Home Movies (Chapter 2) [Almost to the sex.]

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#2 of Home Movies


**HOME MOVIES

Chapter 2**

Once the swelling had gone down, Sebi took Ryan out to the park.

It was an absolutely gorgeous day, complete with clouds rolling across an endless blue sky and the songs of finches lighting up the canopy overhead. All around the park, students were cloistered together on brightly-colored blankets beneath the sagging boughs of cherry blossom trees, heavy textbooks propped open in their laps as they crammed for midterms.

The cherry blossoms themselves had begun to drop just a few days before, and Ryan (now back in her infamous denim overalls) was busy raking them into piles and front-flipping into them, giggling raucously with each explosion of pink petals she upset.

Sebi stood some distance off, smoking and watching and occasionally making the "she's insane" gesture with a finger against his temple whenever passers-by would stop and stare.

After the nefarious petal army had been routed, demoralized, beaten back, and properly cornholed, Sebi bought them a big bowl of soba noodles from one stall vendor, then a shaved ice apiece from another. From there, they made their way down the petal-framed lane, snow cones in hand.

With a payload of sugar and carbs freshly deposited in her tummy, Ryan drew in a huge breath, and the rest of Sebi's evening quickly dissipated into the white noise of his baby sister's chatter.

Sebi tried to light a cigarette and plug his ears, realized he couldn't do both at the same time, and ultimately settled for just plugging his ears, leaving the unlit cigarette dangling freely from his lips.

The young lioness skipped and danced on ahead, oblivious to her brother's artificially slowed pace as she nattered on about friends... horses... karate class... girls who were mean to her... boys she thought were gross (all of them)... meals mother had promised to cook if she'd just give her a moment's peace... a bug she thought she saw once... starlight dust... Jewish high holidays she didn't much care for... trade tariffs... trees in the neighborhood that she had jumped out of and broken a limb under (all of them)... days of the week that ended in 'Y' that probably didn't need to... Iranian film actresses she felt needed a good firm smack in the mouth...

Sebi sighed. Ryan was only ever a chatterbox around him. And in a way, that kind of worked out. Sebastian, who wasn't much of a talker, was the one person on earth all too happy to let the girl completely dominate their already one-sided conversations.

Back home, there was an unspoken but universally understood rule: If you saw Sebastian and his sister out in town together, you avoided them like the plague. Independently they were fine; Sebi was a nice-enough boy, and Ryan, though equal parts observant and tactless, was no more talkative than the average 8-year-old. But, much like the inert components of an atom bomb, when put together they formed a single dangerous entity. . . one that ate up time and fatigued one's ability to smile and listen.

"So?" Ryan called back indignantly. "What is it that you do?"

Sebi snapped back, popping a finger from his ear. "Huh?"

"For work." Ryan tightrope-walked along a concrete ledge framing a flower garden. "What's your job?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I do." Ryan grabbed for a low-lying branch on a sickly-looking tree to steady herself. "Momma says you still ain't told her where you work."

"Oh so that's how it is," Sebi said, snatching his sister off the ledge. She shrieked as he began tickling underneath her bare armpits.

"You Momma's little informant? Huh?? Gonna keep tabs on everything I do and report back to her when you go back? HUH??"

Ryan screamed as her brother tickled her furiously, lashing out at him with every limb and claw at her disposal. Sebi grinned as he pinned her legs to the ground, gathering up both her wrists in one mighty paw as the other one freely explored the girl's sides through the coarse denim of her overalls. Ryan swore and shrieked in between fits of rampant laughter, eyes wild and watering, spasms bristling out the golden fur of her coat.

"You a spy on me??" Sebi shouted over the commotion.

Ryan tried to respond, but her diaphragm was clenching too tight. Hearing no response, Sebi upped the frequency of his tickling, now racing his fingers anywhere not inappropriate for them to go.

"You a spy on me girl?? HUH???"

"AHAHAHAHA~ NO! ~HAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA. . ."

Sebi smirked. "Good," he said, relinquishing her from his iron grip. "Better not be."

He sat on the concrete ledge and lit his cigarette, looking on as Ryan rode out the last of her giggles on the ground. She was panting heavily, gulping for air as her tail rhythmically thumped the dirt between her legs.

"You suck!!" Ryan shouted once she had enough breath in her lungs to do so.

Sebi grinned mischievously to himself. Oh, if only you knew.

As they rested, Sebi studied his sister. She hadn't gotten any bigger as best as he could tell. Maybe a little rounder. Mom was probably feeding her twice as much to fill the empty void at the table caused by Sebi's departure for college, and all the tree climbing and Tae Kwon Do classes in the world couldn't burn off those calories.

Eight is an age when everything is still cute and pudgy and round, and Ryan's body was no exception. Her fur was still bright and golden as the day she was born. Her arms, though toned from playing sports and punching smart-mouthed boys, were still squishy with baby fat. Her tummy was rotundus. . . as were the two perfectly spherical mounds beneath her tail that filled out the denim of her loose overalls. You could bounce a quarter off that rump and get a dollar in change back.

Sebi watched for a full minute longer than he guessed was polite. She was cute. No harm in admitting that. A little boyish, but Sebi figured that would straighten itself out in a few years. By the time she started sprouting breasts and noticing boys, she'd definitely be a knockout.

"But, okay, seriously." Ryan hopped her butt onto the ledge and laid her head across her brother's lap, reaching up to give his kneecap a gentle squeeze. "What do you do for a living? Tell me."

Sebi tapped his cigarette on the concrete, thinking.

"Well," he said, taking a long drag. He brought a claw up to his collar to relieve some pressure. "I'm actually kind of like somebody who works at a news station. You know those guys with the big suits and the huge hair that tell everyone about the weather?"

Ryan's head nodded against his leg.

"Well. . . I sort of do that. But instead of the news, I talk about video games and cool stuff."

"Like what?"

"Oh..." he scratched the side of his head. "Well... like... what kinds of clothes famous people are wearing. What somebody famous said to somebody else. Who got into a fight with who. What cool movies are supposed to be coming out. That kind of stuff."

Ryan sat up excitedly. "Can I come to work with you?"

Without meaning to, Sebi laughed. It was a loud, genuine laughter that came rolling out in heavy bursts.

"I don't think Momma would want you working with me, Kiddo."

Ryan leered at him, sensing she was being slighted. Sebi playfully tousled her headfur, grinning as he wiped the corner of his eye. "But tell you what. . . I'll start lifting you some merchandise from work. I get all sorts of free games and movie tickets and stuff. How's that sound?"

Ryan continued to glower, but perked up ever so slightly. "Whatever. You're weird." She socked him on the shoulder with a pudgy fist. "So when do you work next?"

Before Sebi had a chance to answer, the phone in his pocket began to dance around. He hastily fished it out, flipping it open and holding it out of the light and away from Ryan, who tried making a grab for it. Sebi quickly read over the brief message that appeared in boxy blue letters across the screen.

He swallowed dryly.

"Well... tonight, actually."