[JEMMA]

Having demolished a quarter of a loaf of bread, and almost emptied the peanut butter jar, I cleaned up the smears of grape jam I'd gotten on the counter. I was rubbing in time with what was playing on the radio, and singing the lyrics. I whipped up the paper towel and rolled it into a tube and then sang into it like it was a microphone as the song ended, whirling in a circle.

It occurred to me that Alexis had missed a lot of top 40 hits. She'd always been singing and dancing around before the accident. It had been very distracting, because she had a nice body, really well developed, you know? Not that a brother is supposed to notice, but it was impossible not to when her boobs were shaking all over the place while she capered around in her PJs. I remember one time she was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing her hair with the hundred strokes she did every night. She could have done it in her bedroom, because she had this big mirror in there, but she always did it in the bathroom, and that meant I couldn't take a shower or pee or anything until she was done. So I was standing there, trying to be a pest to get her out and she was taking her sweet time. She had her chest stuck out and I realized I could see the bumps of her nipples pushing through the material of her PJs. Suddenly I wasn't in such a hurry any more. Of course I got a hardon, which horrified me. I mean she was my sister ... and a bitch to boot!

But thinking of that made me think of her humming some song while she was brushing her hair, and how she'd missed all that music while she was unconscious.

I went to my room and got my Ipod. I did regular downloads from I-tunes whenever I heard something I liked, and that way I didn't have to listen to commercials all the time. I thought about just putting the headphones on her, but I couldn't tell her about the songs or who was singing them if I did that. So instead I made up a CD of selected tunes and took it to her room and put it in her computer. I turned on the speakers and adjusted the volume.

Then I commenced to act like what I thought a DJ would act like. I'd tell her what song was coming up, and who was singing it, and if I knew any tidbits about his or her life, like you sometimes see on the cover of The National Enhancer and like that. I didn't actually know if any of them had hit the charts, or what level they'd gone to, so I just made that part up, starting at "number forty on the hit parade." Around number 35 I realized I had a problem, because I could only get like 20 songs on the CD. That was stupid, because I put the things on it I liked the most, which meant when I made another one I'd be making the top 20 songs the ones I didn't like as much. But she was unconscious, and would never know the difference, so what the heck.

I danced while the music played, and did my made up DJ patter and all that. I only felt stupid a few times, but I decided to take the road of being glad I wasn't in her place. That made me feel kind of bad somehow, and when the CD finished I sat down.

"I know you probably can't hear me," I said, "but maybe the music helped. I'm sorry you're in a coma, Alexis. I know we argue and bicker all the time, but I really don't hate you. I mean sometimes I get a little ticked off when your friends tease me and stuff. It wouldn't be so bad if they weren't so hot. And when they come into the bathroom ... I don't know ... I guess it's confusing. I mean you guys call me ‘pencil dick’ ... but you keep coming in there and looking at me. It doesn't make sense. So I get frustrated sometimes. I guess I don't really think you're a bitch, even if you act like one sometimes."

She just lay there.

"So this is really stupid," I groaned. "Here I am talking to somebody who can't hear me, about her hot friends. You're hot too, by the way, since you can't hear me. When I came in here this morning and looked at you I thought of Sleeping Beauty. Cause you're really kind of a babe. I've gotten boners over you more than once, even though you're my sister. But don't get a big head about it. It's only because you're gorgeous, not because of your winning personality. Okay, I'm going to stop talking to the sleeping fairy tale girl now, because this is getting weirder and weirder. So I'll see you later, okay?"

I stared at her for a couple of minutes, and suddenly realized that she was lying there, on top of the covers in her PJs, which buttoned down the front on the top. And under those PJs were a pair of naked breasts. And inside those bottoms was a real, live ... well sort of ... pussy. She was asleep ... right? She'd never know the difference if I took a little peek ... right?

But I couldn't do it. And I couldn't do it precisely because she'd never know the difference. I mean I knew it would feel like I was a necromancer, or whatever they call those perverts who get off on doing nasty things to dead bodies. I shuddered at the thought of touching her like that.

Instead I turned and left the room.