Little Boy (17 page)

But I didn’t do that. Occasionally, a hot
girl would pass by and I’d smile in her direction, and she’d smile
back. But I had to be discreet, because any one of those girls
could have been a friend of Maria’s. Mostly I just stood there,
sweating, smoking a cigarette. All the losers around me were
smoking, too. I felt really different from them, though.

It’s amazing how quickly something you
thought was so important just evaporates from your mind. And as I
stood in front of Maria’s school the Tuesday following my trip to
Mike’s cabin, I didn’t even remember Stephanie’s name. But as I
waited, I began to look at other girls—some I knew, some I didn’t.
I passed by Mike’s sister and Lynn as they walked toward the subway
entrance; they didn’t even glance at me, never mind say anything. I
was sure they weren’t speaking to Maria, either. Maria had lost a
friend simply to be my girlfriend.
She has a better friend
now
, I thought to myself. Lynn was a loser, anyway. She looked
like a horse.

Finally, I saw Maria poke her head out of the
door at the bottom of the hill where the school was. Quickly, I
threw my cigarette down on the ground, kicked it under my car, and
popped some gum in my mouth. But as quickly as I put it out, I
wanted another one, because Maria was talking to some hood as she
walked up the hill. They were laughing. I kept wondering who the
hell the bastard was. I don’t think she saw me, or she would’ve
stopped talking to him, I guess.

He was practically touching her arm, like
they were dating or something. I started thinking that maybe Maria
cheated on me while I was away. I was about to cry, but I held back
the tears and became enraged instead. I was in such a good mood
that day, and she had to ruin it.

Maria didn’t know I was coming to pick her
up, and that I’d planned on surprising her. She started running
toward me as I began walking down the hill toward her. The guy she
was with walked in another direction. As I met Maria, we embraced
wordlessly and immediately as if we hadn’t seen each other in
years.

“I missed you so much!” she exclaimed,
panting hard from the race up the hill. And she really meant it,
too. “Did you miss me?” she asked, beaming.

“Who the hell was that guy?” I replied,
quickly changing what she thought was a blissful moment.

“What? Who do you mean? Oh, you mean
Kelvin?”

“Yeah, whatever,” I said. “Who the fuck is
that asshole?”

“Watch your language!” she said, looking
around to see if anyone was within earshot. She coldly withdrew
from the hug.

“Well, who is he?”

“He’s just a friend from school. What’s your
problem?”

“How many guy friends do you have? A lot?” I
couldn’t stop asking about this guy. I just wanted to let Maria
know that I was serious, and maybe convince her that if she talked
to another guy, I’d beat him up or something. I don’t really
know.

“You’ve never gone out with him, have you?” I
asked.

“No! We’re just friends! School is over for
the summer and I was just saying goodbye to him. What the hell is
wrong with you?” Suddnely, Maria was starting to sound like a
guinea.

“Well, why were you laughing, then? Who
laughs when they say goodbye?”

“I don’t know...” Maria just trailed off,
about to weep from my inquisition. But I just wanted to know who
the guy was. She should have been flattered that I was a little
jealous.

I turned away from her and faced the
passenger door of my car. The car was still turned on and
trembling, spewing exhaust all around us. I placed the palms of my
hands right up against the roof and twirled my neck around to
loosen it up. Closing my eyes tightly, I witnessed a fireworks
display beneath my eyelids and, for a moment, was about to throw up
and pass out.

Finally, I came to my senses and apologized
to Maria.

“I was just a little jealous, okay? I’m
really sorry. I drove all the way over here to surprise you with my
car, and the last thing I wanted to see you do was talk to another
guy.” I really was sorry, and I vowed right then and there not to
let my jealousy get the best of me again. There was so much fun to
be had that it wasn’t worth getting jealous—not that jealous, at
least—over some asshole from her school.

Before she had a chance to respond, I placed
my hands on her shoulders and tugged her toward my body, wrapping
my long arms around her little back like an octopus. “I forgive
you,” she said. And I was at peace.

***

I didn’t want to ruin such a special day.
Like I said, not only was it the first time I ever picked Maria up
in my car, it was also the day I planned to go to second base with
her for the first time. I was so excited about the thought. I’d
seen plenty of tits in my day, but I’d never felt so strongly for
any girl before, and I knew it would be special with Maria because
she’d never let a guy do that to her.

We got in my car and headed straight back to
her house. It was just after two, but she said her parents wouldn’t
be home until five. I figured she told me that to indicate that
we’d be alone. As we drove, I thought about what happened with that
guy in the park—the guy who grabbed her ass—and I promised myself
I’d be completely different: respectful, caring, and, most of all,
patient.

I’d never been inside her house before. As
she opened the door I heard a dog barking. Until that point, I
didn’t know she had a dog. I asked to see it, but she said that it
was kind of vicious and would probably bite me. “But he’s a
sweetie,” though, Maria said. I shrugged my shoulders and sat on
the couch.

We each had a soda and watched TV for a
while. Maria’s house was nice. There were paintings of different
types of flowers all over the walls across from the sofa, except
for a giant crucifix, which hung right in the middle. Across from
us hung about ten slender mirrors, ceiling to the floor. They were
remarkably similar to the ones in my house. Sitting on the sofa,
while quietly embracing Maria, I had to keep myself from nodding
off. It’s not that I was bored—far from it. I was completely
relaxed,

“You like those mirrors?” Maria asked. “You
keep looking behind you, staring at them.” I was surprised that
she’d noticed. I wasn’t sure if I should tell her the story about
the mirrors in my house.

“Looks like you have something on your mind,
A.J.,” She held my hand and gazed into my eyes. “Tell me,” she
said, calmly.

“Honestly, it’s really nothing,” I said. “I
just remember when my mom made my dad install the same mirrors in
my house. It was a few years ago, and he worked like hell to keep
them against the wall, in just the right place, so that he could
screw them in, perfectly juxtaposed.

“Once my dad was finished, my mother came in
the living room and, as usual, second-guessed his work. The man was
sitting there in a pool of sweat, on his hands and knees, panting
like a dog because it was so hard to get those goddamn mirrors on
the wall perfectly. And my mother did what she always does—she told
him to do them over; she said that the mirrors weren’t high enough
up. I was so pissed off at her. She was sitting there smoking a
cigarette as he installed them, so why didn’t she say anything? As
usual, my father didn’t say a word in response to her criticism. He
simply reinstalled the mirrors. I would’ve killed her if I were
him.” I felt so relieved, letting my demons out and telling Maria
the truth.

Maria didn’t say a word. She looked
concerned, but receptive. I remember feeling so relieved. I
suppose, in retrospect, that I should have opened up to her more
that day, and more often in general. Maybe had I done that, Maria
and I would’ve stayed together. Maybe, Mom, you and I would’ve
become friends...

…maybe I wouldn’t be writing this letter.

“Who installed those mirrors?” I asked
sharply, still angry at my stupid mother.

“Me and my mother did, just last month.”

“Holy cow,” I said, “I didn’t think a girl
could do that.” I didn’t mean to offend her, but I think it came
out that way. “I mean—”

She cut me off. “Well, me and my mom fix
everything that breaks around here, and we install all the stuff.
Like that table over there,” she said, pointing to a handsome oak
dining room set. “Me and my mother put that together. Mostly me,
actually.”

I was impressed. What a louse her father was.
I decided right then and there to show her what a real man
was—gentle and strong, hard-working and industrious.
Maria is a
tough little girl
, I thought.
Stronger than me
.

We continued to watch TV, occasionally
chatting. As usual, the conversation was great. Maria was unlike
most girls because she actually paid attention to what I said, and
then responded intelligently, continuing the conversation. A good
conversation can last a lifetime.

A recruitment commercial for the U. S. Air
Force came on TV. It showed a quintet of F-14’s dashing through the
sky. “That’s amazing,” Maria said. “How do those things fly?”

I wasn’t sure if she was asking rhetorically,
and was too nervous to ask. “It’s very simple, really, it all has
to do with Newton’s third law of motion: Every action has an equal
and opposite reaction. The way a jet rocket works is simple: the
engine creates a high velocity blast of air and blows it out the
tail end of the plane in an appropriately sized nozzle. This is
what thrusts the plane and the rocket forward.”

Maria was listening intently, so I just
continued.

“Man had never flown until December 17, 1903,
when the Wright brothers took off from Kitty Hawk, North Carolina.
But modern flight didn’t begin until Goddard helped perfect the
rocket, which had been worked on for centuries beforehand
unsuccessfully. Most people don’t know that the first
rocket-propelled ‘jet’ took off from Germany in 1928, twenty-five
years after the Wright brothers’ first flight.

As I explained all of this to her, she seemed
truly interested. That’s what I loved about her.

“You’re so freakin’ smart!” she exclaimed.
And then the funniest thing happened: we both started to giggle
uncontrollably.

Five minutes later, calming down, panting and
smiling, we embraced. Maria started sliding down me, as if she
wanted to lie down. But I encouraged her to stay up, because I was
planning to kiss her soon. It had been a while since I’d last
kissed her. I gazed at her lovable face and sweet lips and could
almost taste her flesh in my mouth. She wore a snug white
scoop-neck top with small oval collars. It was the same shirt every
other Megan Louis girl was wearing, but only Maria looked like an
angel in it.

Although we were barely touching, I could
smell her body; I could smell her hormones aching for mine. She was
so beautiful—and I was so in love—that I could have broken down
right then and there. About to keel over from the intensity of my
desires, I finally gave in and leaned over and kissed her. It was
the most passionate kiss we’d had, the most enthusiastic I’d ever
experienced. I drank her saliva as our tongues wrestle; I clutched
her face on either side. She was getting wet, I knew it.

Slowly, I moved my fingertips down her neck
and past her shoulder. Grasping her skirt’s waistband, I inserted
my fingers and pulled the front tail of her blouse out. For the
first time ever, I felt her tummy. And I can’t call it a stomach,
because that’s too harsh. It was a tummy. And a sexy one at that.
Covering her belly-button with my thumb, I fanned my fingers across
her tummy, slowly moving upward. She didn’t seem to mind; I was
thrilled that she didn’t balk.

I couldn’t say she was chubby, but she wasn’t
a stick. Whatever it was, I loved it. And what I loved more was
less than an inch away. That inch disappeared, and soon I was
poking my index finger underneath the hard wire that supported her
large bosom. All at once my right hand was cupped over her left
breast, engulfing her large, soft nipples. I couldn’t have been
holding her breasts for more than five seconds when, suddenly, she
grabbed my wrist and yanked it out from under her blouse.

“I’m not ready yet,” she said, shaking her
head apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

“Not ready? But what about what you said last
night on the phone?”

“I don’t know, I really don’t feel
comfortable.”

“Oh, come on, what a tease you are—saying one
thing and then doing another!”

“Listen, A.J., I’m just not ready!” She
started to cry. A perfect day ruined right before my eyes! I didn’t
know what to do. Suddenly, her dog started to bark. For a second I
thought Maria was going to sic it on me.

“Let me go and check on Maxie,” she said.

She practically ran away from the sofa; I
heard her sniffling and then blowing her nose in the kitchen.
‘Maxie’ stopped yelping as Maria cooed at it and called it ‘baby.’
I was so angry and, yes, jealous of her dog.
She treats the dog
better than she treats me
, I thought.

To this day, I’ve never experienced a more
uneasy feeling than I did that afternoon. I was angry, but also sad
that Maria had become so upset. I couldn’t help but imagine losing
her over this whole disagreement. I’m just the kind of guy that
likes his friends to keep their word. I hate liars. I really do.
And I despise two-faced girls, especially.