Free The Nakeds by Lisa Glatt Page A

lap.
    “You’ve been acting even weirder than usual lately,” his sister said, working on her thumb with the little brush. “Are you even going to school? I bet you’re not. Shouldn’t you have bought books by now or school supplies or something?”
    “Shouldn’t you shove that pompom up your ass?”
    “They say her liver had to be removed. I’d rather die than live without my liver,” Sandy said, twisting the cap on the bottle of nail polish. “Wouldn’t you rather die?” she said.
    “And how long do you think someone can live without a liver, Sandy?” he said.
    She didn’t answer him. She leaned over, and without using her hands, without messing up her precious nail polish, took a loud sip from the straw. She sucked and sucked.
    Martin stared at her lips around the straw and decided that she was fucking Billy Judson, and probably giving him head too. “You’re a slut,” he said.
    “I’m not a slut,” she said, adamantly. “A slut fucks a lot of people—and I only, well, I only make love to one.”
    “ Make love, ” he mocked. “I might like you better if you were a slut.”
    She held her hands up on either side of her head, her fingers splayed out dramatically, waving like a lunatic. “Go home,” she said.
    He picked up the remote and turned on the television. The newscaster was talking about the nineteen mountain climbers who died on Mount Fuji in an avalanche. Martin was thinking that it was dangerous enough just getting up in the morning and walking to school, let alone climbing a fucking mountain.
    “They shouldn’t have been up there,” Sandy said. “You won’t catch me on a mountain.”
    Martin downed his drink and thought about making another one. More vodka this time, fewer ice cubes, less orange juice. He’d feel better. His sister could chatter on and he’d have no trouble closing his eyes and zoning out. He’d be able to look at his map and ignore her completely.
    Tony would be home by six o’clock and he’d call him then. He could tell him that Sandy was fucking Billy Judson. He could tell him that she was probably giving him head too, that she’d accept a mouth full of dick but wouldn’t eat food.
    “Mom and Dad think something’s wrong with you,” Sandy said suddenly.
    “Yeah, well,” he said.
    “They’re not even sure if they want you to work at the new restaurant.”
    “Don’t exaggerate,” he said.
    “Well, Mom says your mood better improve if you’re going to be head waiter.”
    “ My mood? What about you, Sandy? Skinny, fucking you. Aren’t you hungry?” he asked.
    “Aren’t I what ?”
    “I see you playing with your food, moving it around on your plate. Anything to keep it out of your mouth, huh?”
    “Something is wrong with you,” she said, emphatically. “No wonder they don’t want you around.”
    “I’m moving anyway,” he said, looking down at the map in his lap. There were so many places he could live, state after state after state. He ran a finger from Southern California to Nevada, and then scooted it all the way to New York.

17
    HANNAH SAT up on the examination table, her bare leg at an angle in the doctor’s hand. He had just removed the first cast, in which she’d spent eight weeks, and was preparing to put on a second one.
    Hannah’s injured leg was whiter and thinner than her right leg and Nina wished the doctor would hurry up and get the second cast on so they wouldn’t have to look at it. She wanted the leg covered up, not only for her own eyes but for Hannah’s too. She didn’t want Hannah to ask the doctor questions about her leg’s appearance, and didn’t want to hear the answers.
    Dr. Bell was a large man with heavy jowls. He sat on a little stool at the foot of the examination table. His body spilled over the sides of the stool and although Nina thought he looked like an enormous mushroom, she found herself using that voice with him and giving him that smile. She told herself that if Dr. Bell were attracted to