The Exene Chronicles

Chapter 8

Ryan’s brother, Jeff, was two years her senior. He was pale, thin, and narrow-shouldered. He and his friends spent most of their time indoors reading comic books and sharing jokes that expressed a crude sexuality of which they had no firsthand experience, whereas most boys their age had abandoned such pursuits years before.

Only thirteen, and damned with the heaving bust of a duchess, Ryan padded down the hallway to her bedroom in bare feet after a shower, startled from a daydream by the sound of boys galloping after her. As though some fever of puberty had made them crazed, all three took advantage of the absence of Mr. and Mrs. Green, sticking index fingers into the dimples of Ryan’s thighs, tickling the marshmallow flesh that oozed irresistibly over the upper edge of her towel.

“You’re such the porker, Ryan. Why don’t you take your butt out for a walk sometime?” They taunted with cruel words, yet their delighted fingertips told a different story.

In an instant, the situation turned frightening. They hadn’t meant to pull her towel down, only to tease her baby fat and mock her nakedness.

In the confusion of the boys’ sharp, grotesque laughter—of their fast, groping hands and balled fists which they used to beat against her bare arms and calves until they were red and blotchy—the towel fell a few inches and Ryan was left to weep and cower in a corner of the hallway.

“Please! Please stop doing that to me!” she sobbed. Jeff finally masked his sister’s shame with the wet towel, escorting her by the elbow to her room. The others backed away frightened, their eyes unaverted.