Free Raising Stony Mayhall by Daryl Gregory

kidnapper, Alton, was long gone.
    “Why don’t we clean up?” his mother said. “Then presents.”
    Alice assigned them jobs, and of course no one argued. She may not have lived there anymore, but she was still secondmother. So while Stony washed, Alice dried and put away, and Junie cleared the table. “So you and Kwang,” Alice said, “still good friends?”
    “Yeah, sure.” The past couple of years, though, he’d felt like they were pulling away from each other, a movement too slow to track with the human eye. Continental drift. Kwang was busy with school and sports and friends who could do amazing things like leave their house or walk into a restaurant. And Kwang had no interest in the books Stony was reading, and very little curiosity about science or technology or the world. He wouldn’t even be going to college if his mother weren’t forcing him. In some ways, Stony felt like he was the one leaving Kwang behind.
    Alice said, “You’re still the same height.”
    “I suppose. I think the growth spurt is over.”
    “I mean you’ve always been the same height. Ever since that first summer. About the same weight, too, month after month. How about shoe size?”
    “That’s an awfully personal question,” he joked. Though it was true, he and Kwang had always been able to wear each other’s shoes, even the summer after seventh grade when they both shot up into the adult sizes. It came in handy when they spent the night in each other’s houses. Stony said, “You don’t think it’s just coincidence?”
    Alice frowned at him, disappointed in his dimness, and he laughed as if to say, Of course it’s not coincidence, who could think that?
    Alice said, “You have anything you want me to repair this weekend? Kwang shoot you with a shotgun or anything while I was gone?”
    “Just small stuff I can’t reach. Junie’s tried to help, but she doesn’t have your skill with a fishing line.”
    “Okay, then. Full checkup in the morning.”
    “You’re looking at me weird. You have some tests you want to do?”
    “Maybe.”
    Alice had always been the one most interested in his condition. Once when he was fifteen she’d had him put a clear plastic bag over his head, just to see if he really could go without breathing. (He could.) They also found out that he didn’t exhale carbon dioxide.
    Junie came in and set down a stack of plates. “Less talk, more wash. We’ve got a cake to eat.”
    “Hey Junie, what is it that Alice said you were right about?”
    Alice chuckled. “She thinks you need to get laid.”
    “Oh that!” Junie said. “Yes, definitely.”
    “What?”
    “We’re not sure, though, if you have sexual feelings.”
    Alice said, “Have you ever masturbated?”
    “I really don’t see the point.”
    “What?!” June said, giggling.
    He’d been thirteen, sleeping over at the Cho house, when Kwang magically produced a worn copy of
Oui
magazine. Kwang had told him about jerking off, but this time his friend pushed down his underwear and with some pride showed him his erection. Stony dropped his pants, but his own penis didn’t move. Kwang told him to spit on his hand and rub. Stony didn’t know what effect the motion was supposed to have, but judging from Kwang’s pained expression, it should have been either much worse or much better than it was. When Kwang came, Stony was amazed. Vaguely worded phrases from biology textbooks abruptly became specific; an entire class of dirty jokes suddenly became both funny and disgusting.
    “Are you attracted to girls?” Junie asked.
    “
What
girls? The only ones I get to see are you guys.”
    “Speaking of guys—” she said, and shut up as the kitchen door swung open.
    Mom swept in and picked up the cake plate. She’d made German chocolate, one of his favorites. “Junie, unplug the Mr. Coffee when it’s done; it’s been overheating lately.”
    She walked out, and Stony said, “I’m not queer, either.”
    “It’s okay if you are,” Alice