She's Not There by Jennifer Finney Boylan Read Free Book Online Page B

a final drag off her cigarette, then stubbed it out in the ashtray. “Okay,” she said then. “It’s clobberin’ time.”
    She lowered her face onto my own again. I felt her fingers trace my ribs. Onion was forceful. It was a little scary, being swept along by her, like standing in some very strong gale.
    Her fingernails scratched softly down the front of my bony chest. The hand that was missing the pinkie clasped me like a golf club. “Whoo-hoo,” she said. “That’s the way.”
    She paused for a moment, looked at me. “So what do you think?” she said. “Am I pretty?”
    I was still thinking about the bruise she had, was trying not to look at it. “Yes,” I said. “You’re pretty.”
    â€œWhoo-hoo,” she said, and kissed me again. This is great, I thought. So far, sex was turning out to be pretty interesting. I
definitely
wasn’t going to keep wanting to be a girl after this!
    I guess this too was
immersion learning.
    â€œWhups,” Onion said, pausing.
    â€œYou okay?” I said.
    â€œYeah, just give me a second.” She let go of me, sat up in the bed.
    Her breasts lay there before me, veined and amazing. The nipples were a soft pink. Her hair fell over one shoulder. For a moment I wished that Onion were a mirror instead of a human. It was too bad.
    â€œI could really fall in love with you,” I said in a dreamlike voice. Onion wasn’t listening. “Are you all right?” I said.
    â€œYeah, I’m fine. You got a bathroom around here?” she said. “I’m just a little woozy.”
    â€œWoozy?” I said. “Yeah. Right in the hallway.”
    â€œOkay,” Onion said. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
    I saw the nude girl walk out of my parents’ bedroom and heard her going into the bathroom. I lay there alone for a moment, filled with wonder. A moment later I heard the sound of Onion puking.
    â€œHey,” I said. “Are you okay?”
    It happened again.
    â€œOnion?”
    I waited for what seemed like a while. All was silent. Then, maybe ten minutes after she’d first excused herself, I heard a soft clunk. The sound of a body hitting the floor.
    â€œOnion?” I said. I went into the bathroom and opened the door. She was lying on the floor. There was puke all around her.
    â€œOh man,” I said. “Shit.”
    I tried shaking her, but all she did was moan once, then nothing. She was breathing heavily. The smell of liquor rose from her like a vapor.
    I got some washcloths and got most of the puke off her, then wiped the floor. I tried to wake her up again. “Oh man,” she mumbled. “I don’t feel good.”
    She couldn’t just stay there on the floor, so I picked her up in my arms and carried her up the stairs to one of the guest rooms. I put her in an old bed that Gammie and Mrs. Watson slept in when they visited and covered her with a quilt. Onion looked very peaceful there.
    Then I went back to the bathroom and collected all the washcloths and towels, carried them to the laundry room, and put them in the washer. After this I walked into my parents’ bedroom, made the bed, and picked up my clothes off the floor.
    I wasn’t sure what to do next. About all I could think of was trying to make up a good story for my parents to believe, once they got home. I could say Onion was a friend of a friend, which was the truth. I could say I didn’t know her very well, also the truth. I could say she’d had too much to drink. And she had called from some party down the street given by these people I did not know and said she needed a safe place to sleep it off because it was dangerous for her to drive like this. I thought about this story for a while, and it seemed pretty good. Not airtight, but pretty good. As long as Onion didn’t wake up suddenly and start talking, they might go for it.
    It was at this point that I