Dykette by Jenny Fran Davis

Author:Jenny Fran Davis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co.

* * *

“How’s the Grinch nude coming along?” Jesse asked. They were thawing in Bedroom 3, their outer layers blanketing the floor, lying against the comforter in their insulated shells and long underwear. The vent above the bed cranked out puffs of hot air, making Sasha’s armpits tickle with sweat.

Sasha said it was going. The edges of Darcy’s annoyance had rubbed off on her; she wanted to go under the blankets with Vivienne and not be observed.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said.

“Really?” Clearly Jesse thought she was being coy, and Sasha softened.

“Yes.”

She admitted that she was having trouble capturing her whole body because of angles.

“What if I take it for you?”

This was exactly against the point of the nude—which was for Sasha to be exposed to the ugliness of her own body alone and to capture the one instant, through a series of tricks of light and angles, in which she looked beautiful. The point was for her to do that labor; that was the present. Having Jesse take the photo was ridiculous.

“I want to,” Jesse said. “Let me do it.”

Sasha would regret it, but she took our her phone and opened Instagram, selecting the Grinch filter and fluffing out her hair in a halo of green sworl. She handed the phone to Jesse. Then she slipped off her top layer of clothes, leaving on her bra and underwear, and arranged herself prettily on the bed with a good-natured grumble.

When she cast her gaze upward, toward Jesse, Jesse had a look on his face that Sasha had rarely seen. A look of astonishment, of absolute rapture. The look struck Sasha as unadulterated, unprocessed and unmediated by Sasha’s own presence in the room—because instead of looking at her, Sasha, Jesse was gazing into the phone—perhaps at a picture of her, one she hadn’t yet vetted.

“What?” Sasha asked, pulling the blankets up around her tits, self-conscious.

“Wait,” Jesse said, still looking at the screen while coming to sit beside Sasha on the bed, not taking his eyes off the screen for the entire span of seconds. It was then that Sasha saw that he wasn’t looking at a picture, but at the camera feature in self-view. “I look really hot as the Grinch.”

Jesse’s face was tinted green, with a deeper shade of green at the end of his nose. Furry green brows, big eyes with long black lashes, a tufted helmet of Grinch hair, culminating in a spout of green fur standing straight up from his head. The same furry jawline as Sasha had been given, but perhaps because Jesse read as male to the filter, the fur was multiplied, coating his face in a sexy layer of green hairs as distinct and defined as fronds of grass. It was like Grinch testosterone, with a certain feminizing effect: the tilted eyes, the red lips, the pointed Grinch cheekbones. It was an arresting image. Sasha sucked her breath into her chest.

It reminded Sasha of the time, actually, a few months before, when she and Jesse had dressed up as each other for fun.

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