Almost Home by Jessica Blank Read Free Book Online Page B

pale and skinny enough that our ribs poke out— but I still feel like the guy is going to know I’m not her brother. My hair is brown, not blond like hers, and besides I think he’ll just be able to smell it. I want her to shut up, but she just keeps talking about our bed.
    She elbows me at the end of her story like I’m supposed to say something. I don’t know what to say, so I just go “Yup” and look up at the guy all dumb. Tracy laughs and says “He’s really shy” and makes this face like they’re on the same team and they’re planning something about me. For a minute I get scared, and then Tracy leans back and pulls me toward her and I can tell it’s really me and her on the team.
    We’re at the guy’s house a little less than an hour. His place is gross, with stacked-up newspapers on the scratchy orange couch and just mustard in the refrigerator. And he’s older than my dad, like fifty or something, so it makes me this weird creepy kind of sad. Not for very long though, because Tracy grabs my baggy T-shirt and yanks me into the back hallway by the bathroom. She pulls out four cans of Campbell’s soup she’s stuck in her backpack, plus a package of ramen. She’s got two lighters too, and says one of them’s for me. She’s good: I never saw her open any drawers.
    After a minute the guy hollers out to us from the living room. My heart starts pounding because of the Campbell’s and ramen, but Tracy zips her bag up slow; when she’s ready she pulls me out into the living room and toward the couch.
    Before the guy can talk I tell him I won’t use anything but my hands. Tracy shoots me a look for a second like I really fucked up, but then a smirk flickers over her face like a mask and she goes “I told you he’s shy. It’s cute, right?” The guy sort of half nods and doesn’t look mad so then she smiles at me.
    I’m nervous around a girl, especially since the lights are on and Tracy’s just sitting there like she’s not planning to do anything except sit there and watch, but I go for his belt anyway, because that’s what we’re there for. Then she starts talking. She goes “He’s always been that way, ever since he was little,” and the guy closes his eyes like it’s all part of the same thing, her story and my hands, like he’s expecting her to start in on something sexy. But it starts turning into this weird long made-up thing about when we were kids, like the stuff your mom told you at bedtime when she was out of books to read and couldn’t think of what to say. When I finally look up at Tracy, she’s got this huge grin on her face and I snort out this giant sudden almost laugh. I swallow it fast but she makes the story weirder and weirder trying to get me to crack up and pretty soon I’ve got tears streaming down my cheeks from holding it in and I want to pee. I have to look at the wall; if I look at Tracy’s face again we’ll both lose our shit. Already the guy’s eyelids are twitching like this wasn’t what he expected and maybe he should stop and make sure everything’s okay. But he lets me keep going. At the end I don’t wait to hear the rest of Tracy’s story: I just get up super fast and run to the bathroom and she grabs her bag and follows me and we run the water full on while we both laugh so hard it hurts our stomachs and doesn’t make any sound. After a second we calm down and I wash my hands with crappy liquid soap. Then she gives me this look in the streaky gray mirror and we both crack up again.
    Afterward Tracy takes the money, drops me off at the liquor store and goes to get some Baja Fresh. She says she’ll bring me back fish tacos, but without anyone to talk to I close my eyes and start thinking about Jim again and wind up falling asleep sitting up against the side of the building and wake up with drool all down my chin. When I open my eyes it’s late and I’m confused like when you lie down for a nap during the day and by the time you wake up it’s