by Otis Hanby
I hear Rodney yelling for me to hurry up and I sprint back to the car. We speed off into the night with no specific destination, as far as I could tell. I feel tainted; like I’ve started down a path that I can’t return from. Am I becoming what Rodney wants me to be? I’m not enjoying the “rush.” I don’t know why some people do, but I know it’s not for me.
After a couple of hours of unspeakable acts of vandalism, we have a layer of car hood ornaments ranging from Mercedes Benz to the Dodge Ram’s head in the bottom of Rodney’s trunk. All it would take is for the police to see a couple of teenage delinquents, pull them over, and search their car. I think our night of crime is over until Rodney spots a gold-trimmed Cadillac parked in front of a large house with a bright street light shining over it.
“That’s the one I’ve been waiting on! I gotta have it!” he says excitedly.
Damnit, Rodney’s crazy.
“I’m going to have to pull around back so we can keep the car out of sight.”
Rodney drives down the alley behind the house and puts it in park. For a moment I think he’s having second thoughts because he’s just staring between the houses at the visible back end of the gold-trimmed Cadillac. When he makes his move, I won’t be able to see if he pulls it off.
I hear the car door open and look over. Rodney’s halfway out of the car. He pauses and appears to be considering his next move because we both know this isn’t going to be the easiest trick to pull off. If Rodney should fail now, we’re both screwed. We look at each other for what seems like several seconds, and he bolts off with mad speed. I see Rodney reach the rear of the Cadillac and then disappear. Time seems to be standing still. For a few seconds, I think that I might never see him again. All of a sudden, an ear-piercing noise breaks the silence. A siren! No, wait, not a siren but an alarm. Oh crap, it’s the car alarm. Rodney comes running like hell itself is after him. I see a light come on in the second story of the house. Rodney crashes into the driver’s seat, looking like a scared little kid. Sweat is dripping from his face. He slams the gear shift into drive, and we race away. All I can do is tell myself to breathe. Breathe, damn it! Rodney drives with forced control, trying to escape without causing a scene.
Pulling out from the alley and onto the street, we come to a stop sign that meets the main road. A patrol car is making a right-hand turn onto the street we’re on. And just as police do, he creeps slowly by. Our eyes meet. I try to block my thoughts so the cop can’t read my mind, knowing full well how ridiculous this is. Rodney does the smart thing and drives off instead of sitting there and drawing suspicion. As we gain some distance, Rodney looks in the rear-view mirror, and I look over my shoulder to see what the cop is doing. To our relief, he drives on—looking for a bigger fish to fry, would be my guess. It occurs to me he might be responding to the disturbance we just created. All I want is to get away quickly and quietly.
***
We’ve been on the interstate for a while, and I decide to break the silence. “Hey man, that was close huh?”
“I knew it was going to be close,” he says.
What the hell is he talking about? How did I get involved with such a person? I pull a cigarette out of my hardpack. I tap the butt of it on my Zippo with nervous relief and then light it.
“Where are we going now?” I ask, hoping it doesn’t involve any criminal activity.
“We’re going to pick up Byron.”
“Cool,” I say.
Byron is a couple of years younger than us, but he’s cool. He’s one of the more real punk rockers that we know. He likes old school punk music and lives as if he’s on a mission to revive the punk movement. His blonde hair is all shaved except for his bangs that hang down to his chin and over his face. I met him last summer at a water park, and we instantly became friends.
We pull into Byron’s driveway in the rear of his house. The plan is to go up to his window and sneak him out. As we near the window, we hear someone shouting. I peek into Byron’s window and see his dad yelling and making angry, jerking arm gestures. Byron is yelling something back at him, but his dad interrupts him, stalking out and slamming the bedroom door.
“I hate you!” Byron yells toward the closed door.
I have a hard time accepting what I see. Rodney and I can hear Byron sobbing into his pillow. Rodney taps on the bedroom window softly, and Byron looks up, squinting at us. He jumps out of his bed and slides the window open.
“What are you guys doing here?” Byron asks, his voice a little choked.
“Let’s get you the hell out of here,” Rodney says. “Your dad really sucks! Corey and I wanted you to hang out with us tonight. We’re staying out all night. What do you say?”
“Hell yes. Let’s go!” Byron seems relieved to get away from his personal hell, even for a little while.
Byron’s leg is already out the window when Rodney says, “Don’t forget your board, dude. We plan on skating later tonight.”
“Oh yeah! Good idea,” Byron says, pulling his leg back through the window.
He makes so much noise getting his skateboard that I think surely his dad is going to catch us. But we make our getaway undetected. Checking his watch, Rodney says, “It’s almost 9:00. Marcy and Erica should be home now. Let’s get over there before it gets too late.”
“Sounds good to me,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant, but I’m feeling that same rush of warmth coursing through my body. It’s such an intense feeling that I begin to question if Erica could possibly feel the same way. Maybe I imagined or exaggerated her interest. Doubt starts to stir within me. Was our connection earlier just a moment for her, or is she anxious to see me again too? I’m a little scared to find out. Could something so good possibly be real? Despite my doubts, the feelings for Erica are still the same, and nothing can change that.
Everything is quiet in the car as we pull up to an upscale apartment complex and Rodney parks on the street. Across from the apartment complex I notice a hill with bright lights. I begin to wonder what could be on a random slope in the middle of Dallas, but Rodney cuts my curiosity short: “Hey, are you coming or what?”
“Yeah,” I say looking back towards the apartments.
Byron and Rodney are halfway up the stairs when a door on the second floor opens. Marcy is standing in the doorway, and behind her, looking over her shoulder is Erica—smiling big. Her eyes are looking from the second floor straight into mine. All the doubt that troubled me evaporates. When I get to the top of the stairs, Rodney and Byron are already inside. Marcy goes inside next, leaving Erica in the doorway.
“Hey,” I say. “Do you mind if I come in?”
“Of course not,” Erica says, smiling.
She puts her arms around me. Nervously, I hug her back. I can feel her small, soft breasts against my chest. Her fingers are pressing into my back. The smell of her hair is so clean. My nose brushes her neck lightly, and I smell the scent of subtle perfume. Her body is soft and warm against me. She pulls away and glances over her shoulder. As we go inside, I grab her hand. As we walk inside Erica looks back at me, her hair slightly in her eyes, and she’s biting her lower lip, turning me on. I’ve never been this turned on before and I’m pleasantly surprised by the feeling. She continues into the living room. I admire her wearing a Cure t-shirt and shorts over black tights with smiley faces on them. Her style is rebellious and sexy, but she also has a vibe of innocence and sweetness. Everything about her is perfect. At that moment, I know that she is the only girl I ever want.
Rodney and Marcy are laughing at something Byron is saying. I pass a folding tray and notice a deck of tarot cards lying on it as Erica spins me around and sits me in a reclining chair. She gracefully sits on my lap, turns sideways, and pulls my arms around her hips. Warmth fills me, dulling my senses. Marcy asks, “So what have y’all been doing tonight?”
Before Rodney can answer, I say, “Ah, nothing really. Rodney and I were out driving, and we decided to pick Byron up. After that, we ended up here.”
&nbs
p; “Oh,” she says, satisfied.
Erica’s mom comes into the room followed by another woman. She looks around at us, seeming preoccupied. I fear that she will say something about Erica sitting on my lap, and I grow nervous, but it doesn’t seem to be something she’s concerned about.
“What are you guys up to?” she asks.
“Just hanging out,” Erica says.
Her mom replies distractedly, “You kids have fun, but I want everyone out by 10:30.”
“Okay, mom.”
Leaving us with this directive, Erica’s mom and the other woman go down the hall into another room. I relax again, enjoying Erica in my lap.
“So, what are you guys going to do later when y’all have to leave?” Erica asks.
“I don’t know. We’ll probably just hang out all night. Drive around or something,” Rodney answers.
“What about your parents?” Marcy asks.
“Well, my folks think I’m spending the night with Rodney, and his folks think he’s spending the night with me. And as far as Byron is concerned, his dad thinks he’s in his room,” I say.
“Really?” Erica asks. “Hey, my mom is leaving for work at six. You think y’all can come back?”
I look at Rodney, hoping he’ll say yes.
“Sure,” he says. “Hey, what’s up on top of that hill outside?”
“It’s a tennis court,” Erica says.
“Do those lights stay on late?” Rodney asks.
“Yeah. I think so.”
“Cool. I’ll call Chad and Tyler. Maybe they’ll come by and hang out with us up there. Can I use your phone?”
“Sure,” Erica says, pointing him to the phone.
Rodney dials Chad’s number. He tells him to meet up with us at the tennis courts and to bring Greg.
Erica lays her head on my chest and snuggles deeper in my arms. My heart is so full it feels like it might burst. Marcy, Rodney, and Byron continue in conversation, letting Erica and I enjoy each other. I feel like they respect the strange magic happening between Erica and me. It’s the coolest gesture my friends could offer.
10:30 comes quickly and—as Erica’s mom emerges to remind us—it’s time to go. As everyone says goodbye, Erica stands in front of me and smiles as if waiting for something. Summoning all my courage, I put my hands on her hips and put my lips to hers. She pulls me closer, kissing me softly and passionately. I feel drunk. As we finish, she smiles at me gently. I look to the floor out of shyness and then back up at her.
“I can’t wait to see you in the morning,” she says.
“I can’t wait to see you, either,” I say, backing away.
I turn and start down the stairs as Marcy is coming back up. I turn and take one final look at Erica as she waves goodbye. I return her smile and turn around once more. Rodney has already started his car and is lighting a cigarette. I think I’m going to need one too. I slide into the back seat.
Chapter Five
Rodney, Byron, and I are sitting on our skateboards in the middle of the tennis court on top of the hill. The surface of the court is perfect for skateboarding with its smooth, fast surface. We’ve been here for almost an hour and are taking a break from doing tricks when Chad and Tyler show up. They’re skating toward us, so we stand up to welcome them.
“What’s up?” Rodney asks.
“Not much, man. What the hell are y’all doing out here in this part of Dallas anyway?” asks Chad.
“We’re staying out all night. When Erica’s mom goes to work in the morning, we’re going to hang out with her and Marcy again,” Rodney responds.
“That’s cool. Me and Tyler have to be back in a couple of hours. Greg’s here, but I think he’s using the pay phone or something.”
“I’m gonna go find him,” I say, skating off.
I climb down the side of the hill opposite of the apartments and see Greg hanging up the pay phone next to a business plaza. He starts toward me, and we meet in front of Chad’s car.
“What’s up, Corey?” Greg asks in his playful way.
“Not much. Just hanging out and skating.”
“I had to make a quick call to my girlfriend.”
“Oh yeah? Which one is that?” I tease. Greg always seems to have about twenty different girlfriends.
“Some girl I met in Deep Ellum. She’s pretty cool.”
“I just met a cool girl, too. Her name is Erica.”
“Yeah, I know who she is. That’s Marcy’s friend, right? She’s really pretty.”
I feel jealous, and a little surprised that Greg didn’t try moving in on Erica before I met her. He might have, I guess, but I can’t imagine any girl turning Greg down. He’s the calmest and most generous person I know.
“So, you guys hitting it off?” he asks.
“I’d say so. She’s the coolest girl I’ve ever met. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“Yeah, she’s great. I’m glad she likes you.”
What Greg said makes me feel good because I know he means it. I’ve never known him to be one to lie. Ever since the seventh grade, I’ve looked up to Greg. He’s shy, but he’s cooler than anybody I know. I wish we were closer, but I think I looked up to him too much.
We climb the hill, joking and laughing with each other. When we reach the tennis court, everyone’s skating and doing tricks. Greg jumps on his skateboard, and I hang back to watch him. He’s headed straight for the net, but when he reaches it, he ollies over the top.
“No way!” Rodney exclaims as everyone else looked on in amazement. That’s the kind of trick you see the pros do on videos and in magazines. Feeling motivated, we all begin skating again.
An hour passes, and we’re sweaty and tired. We sit on our skateboards in a circle and talk about school, music, and new skateboarding tricks we would like to try.
“I gotta get home,” Chad says, getting up slowly. He always moved like he was older than he was.
“We’ll check you guys later.”
“Alright. Hey Greg, do you have to leave, too?” I ask.
“Yeah. I gotta go see my girl.”
“I understand,” I say, somewhat disappointed.
Tyler, Chad, and Greg walk down the hill and out of sight. The night is getting colder, so Rodney, Byron, and I decide to sleep a couple of hours in Rodney’s car. We head down the hill after them. It won’t be long until I see Erica again.
***
A dim ray of sunshine wakes me. I peer through the car window with one eye open and see frozen dew covering the grass. Yawning and stretching my arms, I wake Byron up.
“Hey man, let’s have a smoke.”
“Alright,” Byron says sleepily.
He gets out and leans the front seat forward so I can get out. Byron hands me a cigarette, and we light up. Rodney emerges from the driver’s seat.
“Toss me a smoke,” Rodney says.
Byron tosses him one.
“Well it’s ten till six,” I say, looking at my watch.
“Yeah, Erica’s mom should be leaving soon,” Byron says.
We carry our skateboards to the rear of the apartment complex so we can busy ourselves before we meet up with the girls. Rodney and Byron skate and do tricks on the parking curbs. I try a couple, but I’m not into it. I sit on a parking curb and watch them skate around. Rodney sits down beside me as Byron attempts to land a kickflip to pivot-stall on the curb. Marcy and Erica appear around the corner. Erica has her leather jacket and shorts on and looks well rested. I walk over to her. When she gets close enough, I can see her eyes are sparkling mischievously. She throws her arms around me. We kiss for several seconds before catching up with everyone else.
***
Byron and Marcy are looking through the refrigerator when I walk into Erica’s apartment. Rodney has already found the remote and is flipping through TV stations at random.
“Hey guys, we’ll be back later,” Erica says, leading me by the hand.
We enter Erica’s
room, and she sits me on her bed holding both of my hands. She sits down next to me and brushes her fingers across my face, saying, “You look tired.”
“I am.”
“Why don’t we lie down?”
“Okay.”
We lie down on our backs side by side. I’m a little nervous because I’ve never been in a bed with a girl before. She turns on her side and places her hand on my chest underneath my shirt. She bends her head down and gently kisses me as her hair is hanging in my face, tickling me. Encouraged by her eagerness, I roll her on her back and straddle her. Holding her arms down I bend down and kiss her. She kisses me back intensely, then starts pulling my shirt off. My body grows hot, and instinct takes over. Her shirt comes up slightly, revealing her belly button. I kiss it gently and become intoxicated at the touch of her soft, warm skin. I push her shirt up a little more exposing her entire stomach. I kiss her stomach all over as she takes shallow gasps. Taking a chance, I pull her shirt off. She holds me tightly against her body. We kiss long and hard. I slide my hands up her back and fumble with the clip on her bra, hoping she won’t stop me. When it finally comes loose, I throw her bra to the floor. We press our bodies together, and I can’t get enough of her. Her warm skin melds into mine. She pushes me up suddenly, unbuttoning my Levi’s and pulling them off. Soon we’re both stripped to our underwear and continue to explore each other’s bodies for the rest of the morning. I’m intoxicated.
With the sheets pulled over our heads, we lie still, exhausted from the intense make-out session. Just lying here feels like heaven. Even after all the intimacy, I know that I’m not ready for sex yet. This is all still very new to me. I look in her eyes and say, “I’ve never been into a girl this much before.”
