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Book: The Adventures of Holly White and the Incredible Sex Machine by Krissy Kneen
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Authors: Krissy Kneen
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pull the
dog away. Holly quickly hid the book in her bag. She needed a mirror. She needed
to fix her makeup and do her hair. She needed a shower and, perhaps, the comfort
of her cool dark bedroom with her freshly laundered sheets. She felt changed, like
she had committed a crime, robbed someone, killed someone, and here she was out in
the world, walking free without any consequences at all. It was the book in her bag.
A book with sex inside it. The very thought of it made her skin prick with sweat.
Holly walked away from the scent of herbs and the spill of orange light that made
her think of the throbbing red light outside a brothel. She adjusted her frock and
headed straight for home.
1996: A Book of Dreams
My father is waiting but Amalie stands in between me and our car. It is my birthday.
The teacher made the class sing to me and I was embarrassed but just a little proud.
I looked up at the last bit, the bit in the birthday song where they say my name,
and there it was on Amalie’s lips, Nick. Happy birthday dear Nicholson. Dear. She
is prettier in the sunlight because of her hair, which is wispy and curls upwards
in the heat of the afternoon. Her pleated skirt is just the right length. Her knees
peek out from under it, the pretty curve of her calves. The other kids are running
to the bus or wrestling each other on the lawn or milling in groups erupting in occasional
laughter. Amalie is alone, shyly kicking her heavy black school shoes in the gravel.
She steps forward, blocking my path and I smile, trying to lift my eyes up to her
face, but her chest is beginning to puff out under her shirt and the light is pouring
down in such a way that you can see the outline of her little bra under the thin
cotton fabric. There is a tingling in my groin. I will have to tell my father that
my sexual health is perfect. He will be proud. I can feel the orgone swelling all
the places it is meant to.
‘Are you doing anything for your birthday, Nick?’
There it is, my name on her tongue. I can almost taste the little nip of the N in
her teeth. One day, soon I will taste it in her kiss. I know I can make it happen.
I just need a little time and the right combination of elements. Privacy, familiarity,
patience.
I shake my head and grin. ‘If I was I would have invited you to come.’
When she blushes the orgone takes my penis and lifts it inside my school shorts.
I am flooded with the tingling pleasure of the energy coursing through my body. Perhaps
she can see the lump there but I don’t care. I am healthy, potent, sexually powerful
already and I have only just turned thirteen.
‘But maybe at the weekend I can have a party. Would you come if I had a party?’
She looks down at her dusty feet. Her face is blotched with red, but it’s a pretty,
breathless colour. Excitement rather than shame. She nods.
‘Saturday?’
She hesitates. Maybe she has something to do on Saturday.
‘Hang on,’ I tell her, ‘Sunday. I think Sunday is when I was going to have that party.’
She smiles and nods and her voice is shy and strained when she says, ‘OK, that would
be lovely.’
I want to hug her but that would ruin it. I shoulder my satchel and grin.
‘Ten o’clock? See you Sunday at ten.’ I try to sound as casual as I can, as if this
is something I always say to the prettiest girl at school. I walk past her towards
my father, waiting across the road in the car. He would have seen me talking to Amalie.
He would have seen how pretty she is. When I open the door of the passenger’s side
he is grinning. He reaches over to ruffle my hair.
My father is older than the other fathers, but he has more muscles than some of them
and he is smarter so I don’t mind.
‘Can I have a party on Sunday?’ The words are out of my mouth before he can even
say hello.
‘Sunday? I thought you—’
‘I changed my mind.’
‘Well, that isn’t much time to organise a whole party. Invitations, decorations,
food…’
‘Oh no. It isn’t for
dog away. Holly quickly hid the book in her bag. She needed a mirror. She needed
to fix her makeup and do her hair. She needed a shower and, perhaps, the comfort
of her cool dark bedroom with her freshly laundered sheets. She felt changed, like
she had committed a crime, robbed someone, killed someone, and here she was out in
the world, walking free without any consequences at all. It was the book in her bag.
A book with sex inside it. The very thought of it made her skin prick with sweat.
Holly walked away from the scent of herbs and the spill of orange light that made
her think of the throbbing red light outside a brothel. She adjusted her frock and
headed straight for home.
1996: A Book of Dreams
My father is waiting but Amalie stands in between me and our car. It is my birthday.
The teacher made the class sing to me and I was embarrassed but just a little proud.
I looked up at the last bit, the bit in the birthday song where they say my name,
and there it was on Amalie’s lips, Nick. Happy birthday dear Nicholson. Dear. She
is prettier in the sunlight because of her hair, which is wispy and curls upwards
in the heat of the afternoon. Her pleated skirt is just the right length. Her knees
peek out from under it, the pretty curve of her calves. The other kids are running
to the bus or wrestling each other on the lawn or milling in groups erupting in occasional
laughter. Amalie is alone, shyly kicking her heavy black school shoes in the gravel.
She steps forward, blocking my path and I smile, trying to lift my eyes up to her
face, but her chest is beginning to puff out under her shirt and the light is pouring
down in such a way that you can see the outline of her little bra under the thin
cotton fabric. There is a tingling in my groin. I will have to tell my father that
my sexual health is perfect. He will be proud. I can feel the orgone swelling all
the places it is meant to.
‘Are you doing anything for your birthday, Nick?’
There it is, my name on her tongue. I can almost taste the little nip of the N in
her teeth. One day, soon I will taste it in her kiss. I know I can make it happen.
I just need a little time and the right combination of elements. Privacy, familiarity,
patience.
I shake my head and grin. ‘If I was I would have invited you to come.’
When she blushes the orgone takes my penis and lifts it inside my school shorts.
I am flooded with the tingling pleasure of the energy coursing through my body. Perhaps
she can see the lump there but I don’t care. I am healthy, potent, sexually powerful
already and I have only just turned thirteen.
‘But maybe at the weekend I can have a party. Would you come if I had a party?’
She looks down at her dusty feet. Her face is blotched with red, but it’s a pretty,
breathless colour. Excitement rather than shame. She nods.
‘Saturday?’
She hesitates. Maybe she has something to do on Saturday.
‘Hang on,’ I tell her, ‘Sunday. I think Sunday is when I was going to have that party.’
She smiles and nods and her voice is shy and strained when she says, ‘OK, that would
be lovely.’
I want to hug her but that would ruin it. I shoulder my satchel and grin.
‘Ten o’clock? See you Sunday at ten.’ I try to sound as casual as I can, as if this
is something I always say to the prettiest girl at school. I walk past her towards
my father, waiting across the road in the car. He would have seen me talking to Amalie.
He would have seen how pretty she is. When I open the door of the passenger’s side
he is grinning. He reaches over to ruffle my hair.
My father is older than the other fathers, but he has more muscles than some of them
and he is smarter so I don’t mind.
‘Can I have a party on Sunday?’ The words are out of my mouth before he can even
say hello.
‘Sunday? I thought you—’
‘I changed my mind.’
‘Well, that isn’t much time to organise a whole party. Invitations, decorations,
food…’
‘Oh no. It isn’t for
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