These Gentle Wounds by Helene Dunbar Read Free Book Online Page A

long the house would be standing if I did.
    â€œSo what’s her name?” he asks.
    I consider pretending I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I brought this up. At some level I must want to talk about it, right? That’s what the counselors at school would say, not that they really understand anything about me. But Kevin does. He can see through me like I’m made of tissue paper.
    â€œIt’s not like that,” I say. Do I believe it? I don’t even know. I twist and untwist the band on my wrist a million times.
    â€œThen what’s it like?” He’s baiting me, and I can see by the glint in his eye that he’s enjoying watching me squirm.
    I sigh. Now I wish I hadn’t brought it up at all. “Nothing, it’s stupid. There’s just this girl. In English.”
    He pulls out the bowl of green stuff from the refrigerator and mixes it with the stuff I boiled earlier. Then he pulls out another bowl from the fridge. This one is filled with calcium chloride, which is the stuff that comes in packets to dry things out. It’s also the thing that guarantees I’m not going near this latest experiment. I don’t care how well he thinks he can wash the stuff off—I’m not eating it.
    I sit down and run my thumb over the peeling Formica on the table. I should have known better than to think that Kevin wouldn’t push this conversation. I guess I sit there a while, because when I look up I recognize his impatient expression. It means that he’s been talking to me and I have absolutely no idea what he’s said.
    Instead of asking him to repeat it and admitting I haven’t been paying attention, I throw him a bone. “Sarah. Her name is Sarah. She’s a photographer. She was the one taking pictures at the games last summer.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œAnd nothing. She just got put in my English class.”
    â€œAnd you like her, don’t you?”
    â€œNever mind,” I say. I don’t even know the answer to that question. I don’t know her. I don’t …
    â€œToo late.” He’s stopped dropping the green balls into the calcium bath and is actually smiling now in a way that’s making my heart race.
    I push the edge of the Formica under my nail until I can feel it, sharp against my skin. “She’s … ” I look down, hoping the table will tell me what she is. Annoying? Mysterious? Crazy?
    I know that Kevin doesn’t need to see my face to know there’s something up. “Is she pretty?” he asks.
    My right hand clenches, and unclenches, and clenches again. I get the whole snapping a band thing, but I really wish I had a pen. I look around, but all I see are sharp kitchen things and chemicals.
    â€œCome on, Ice. Describe her.”
    â€œI don’t know. She has really dark hair and eyes. Happy?” The words explode out of me. I get up and stand in the doorway, which makes me feel a little less penned in.
    Kevin sets a timer and heads toward me.
    â€œIf you’re so interested, I’ll introduce you,” I say, remembering that I need to work myself up to calling her.
    â€œI’m not the one she’s been taking pictures of,” he says, squeezing my shoulder.
    I pull away. “This is what it’s like for everyone else, right? I mean, this is how brothers act when there’s nothing else to talk about?”
    Kevin just laughs. “I’ve never been anyone else. But if you’re worried about being too normal, I wouldn’t stress out about it.”
    Jim’s car pulls into the drive and by the time he comes in, we’re waiting by the door like two hyperactive puppies who haven’t been let out all day.
    He looks tired, like he wishes he could turn back the clock and never meet Mom, and never have Kevin, and definitely never get saddled with me.
    â€œWhat’s that smell?” he asks Kevin.
    â€œPea balls,” my brother