Free Normal by Jason Conley

have touched her from heaven, just for Randy. 
                  He could smell Jen just beyond the wooden door.  He only had to open it to see her.  Thinking about what he would do once inside aroused him. He would feel Jen’s skin, run his figures through her hair, kiss her mouth, and feel himself inside her.  He reached for the door handle and began to turn it slowly.  Jen’s smell was already growing stronger.
    “Randy, are coming to bed?” Casey yelled seductively. 
                  Randy was brought back by the voice beyond his bedroom door.  “What am I doing?” he whispered.  He let go of the door handle, “Coming Casey,” Randy said as he walked away from where he knew he could be happy, satisfied. 
    He opened the door and Casey was lying naked on the bed, her finger rubbing her pink flesh.  Randy could see her juices shining in the intruding light.  He smiled as he closed the door.  He slowly slipped off his pants and crawled onto Casey.
     
                  Carissa was relieved to hear the pounding of the bed as it beat gentle against the their bedroom wall. 

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    7
                  The day broke through the curtains shining a warm beam of light directly onto Carissa’s face.  She opened her eyes with noticeable ease.  Carissa, surprised by her energy, did not think about the doorknob’s turn or her father giving into Casey’s uncharacteristic offering.  Usually on such mornings, Carissa felt relief but her dreams had still haunted her.  Carissa’s night would be filled with sleepless anticipation and when she would dose, her dreams were traced with nocturnal images of her and her thrusting father, face to face.  The images would bring her too, then she would wait.  Sometimes, not for very long.
    Today was different.  David was different.  He was waiting on the bus, hopefully.  Though he probably had not even left his house, she thought of him watching, patiently, in the third, maybe fourth, seat for her eyes to shine solemn over the green vinyl wall in front of the first.  The image of David’s stoic face, maybe smiling, urged her up and about. 
                  Carissa threw her comforter wide, in a way that only a girl with a secret crush could master the technique.  The smile on her face was more radiant than the sun that had awakened her just moments before and was starting to ache.  Somehow the colors of her room seemed…brighter.  The insistent sadness clouding her mornings had subsided if only for a brief daybreak run.  In turn, Carissa knew the real world milled beyond her bedroom door.  Could the mood be shattered by Casey’s sharp tongue?  Maybe.  Could this all be a dream?  Possibly.  Was the nameless swelling in her chest real?  She could not answer that question just yet.  She had never experienced a “crush” so judging its validity was not yet an option nor was it a notion she was willing to consider.
                  Carissa’s feet hit the floor softly.  She maneuvered around Lea’s toys cluttering the floor and ended up at her closet.  As she opened the door, she found herself asking for the first time, “What the fuck am I going to wear?”
    “I heard that,” Lea squeaked from her bed.
     
                  The alarm clock chimed its unwelcome reveille waking David from a shallow, dissatisfying sleep.  Most of the night, David turned and contorted to find a comfortable position that would not reopen the fresh rod marks.  Even though he probably needed a day after the lashings, it was not an option.  David’s sleep deprivation did not matter.  David wounds did not matter.  David’s state did not matter. School mattered.  In pain or illness, in weak or well, David would stack his books, take his notes, and run his laps.  Mrs. Shelton would not allow for sick days because God did not allow for them.  David had had pneumonia