doing it.”
“I don’t like the guy.” Ron stood his ground.
“Well, I already told him the next time we get together, he’s invited.”
“You’re a fucking asshole , Jim, you know that?” Tim said
“You’re a fucking asshole, douchebag ,” Jim replied.
“Well, it’s my house ,” Tim asserted
“You know , man, you’re a pussy,” Jim said.
“Fuck it. But next time, you better tell me before you ask him to come to MY house.” Tim turned to grab his books. “Gotta go to math now. See you guys later.”
“Sorry , man,” Jim yelled after Tim and was met with a stiff middle finger as Tim walked away. The others laughed, splitting up to go to their classes.
Tim asked Cole later that day if he’d be coming out. Cole told him he wasn’t sure if he could make it. His dad had been riding him and his brother for not cleaning the yard, but he’d try. He really wanted to come.
“Cool, man, if you can. It’d be great.” All the time Tim was thinking we need the butts, man .
“Thanks for asking ,” Cole said.
“If you come, think you can get some butts?”
“I can probably grab a pack o f my dad’s. He always leaves ‘em lyin’ round. He smokes Kool’s, though, that okay?”
“Beggars can’t be choosey.” They left with the silent agreement they’d meet tonight in Tim’s garage. Tim patted Cole on the back and turned to walk up to his house leaving Cole to walk the rest of the way alone.
Cole lifted a pack of his father’s cigarettes from the draw er in his bed stand. He had a full carton and one that was almost full; he wouldn’t notice. He grabbed gum from his brother’s school bag and stuck them in his jacket pocket with the cigarettes.
At 12: 50 am, Cole shimmied open his bedroom window, and jumped down the three foot drop. He stopped a minute trying to hear if anyone heard him. After several minutes, he shut the window as silently as he could, still leaving enough room to push it open when he got home. He patted his right jacket pocket to ensure the cigarettes were there and pulled his hood up. Then putting his head down against the damp cold weather, he walked the four blocks to Tim’s house. He zipped his thin jacket up as high as it would go and pulled up his collar. He stuck his hands in his pockets, holding the square box.
He walked faster to keep warm and turned onto Tim’s block. He spotted the dim light seeping out under the garage door. Opening it, he found all the guys there, holding a flashlight down on the full color pages of hustler magazine. He saw from where he stood a large pair of round tits, hard nipples. Shaking his head, he pulled the box of cigarettes out opening it. Pulling one out, he slipped it in his mouth, lighting it. The guys turned around at once and Cole threw the box to Ron. The guys all grabbed a cigarette, and the matchbook made the rounds until a steady stream of smoke rose up toward the rafters.
“Shit, man , look at those tits. Would love to get my hands on those.”
“Open it. Open the page. It opens full. You can see her pussy, man. Come on.”
The guys all stood, eyes glued to the pages they rifled through. At twelve years old, these pictures were all they had.
Joseph , the guy with all the girl stories, wasn’t there yet. His absence was mentioned once between the guys then quickly forgotten. He was five years older than the rest of them. Probably had something much cooler to do tonight. Probably getting laid was the general consensus.
Cole smoked until he was dizzy. He both hated and loved cigarettes. Since moving here, Cole found it harder to make friends, feeling like an outsider. His family was originally from Ohio and moved to Philly when his father got a better job there six months ago. His parents rented a small house on the outskirts of Philly in a neighborhood that was good but on the verge of turning bad.
The boys laughed and joked about their teachers and the girls they crushed on. Cole felt like he was just
“I don’t like the guy.” Ron stood his ground.
“Well, I already told him the next time we get together, he’s invited.”
“You’re a fucking asshole , Jim, you know that?” Tim said
“You’re a fucking asshole, douchebag ,” Jim replied.
“Well, it’s my house ,” Tim asserted
“You know , man, you’re a pussy,” Jim said.
“Fuck it. But next time, you better tell me before you ask him to come to MY house.” Tim turned to grab his books. “Gotta go to math now. See you guys later.”
“Sorry , man,” Jim yelled after Tim and was met with a stiff middle finger as Tim walked away. The others laughed, splitting up to go to their classes.
Tim asked Cole later that day if he’d be coming out. Cole told him he wasn’t sure if he could make it. His dad had been riding him and his brother for not cleaning the yard, but he’d try. He really wanted to come.
“Cool, man, if you can. It’d be great.” All the time Tim was thinking we need the butts, man .
“Thanks for asking ,” Cole said.
“If you come, think you can get some butts?”
“I can probably grab a pack o f my dad’s. He always leaves ‘em lyin’ round. He smokes Kool’s, though, that okay?”
“Beggars can’t be choosey.” They left with the silent agreement they’d meet tonight in Tim’s garage. Tim patted Cole on the back and turned to walk up to his house leaving Cole to walk the rest of the way alone.
Cole lifted a pack of his father’s cigarettes from the draw er in his bed stand. He had a full carton and one that was almost full; he wouldn’t notice. He grabbed gum from his brother’s school bag and stuck them in his jacket pocket with the cigarettes.
At 12: 50 am, Cole shimmied open his bedroom window, and jumped down the three foot drop. He stopped a minute trying to hear if anyone heard him. After several minutes, he shut the window as silently as he could, still leaving enough room to push it open when he got home. He patted his right jacket pocket to ensure the cigarettes were there and pulled his hood up. Then putting his head down against the damp cold weather, he walked the four blocks to Tim’s house. He zipped his thin jacket up as high as it would go and pulled up his collar. He stuck his hands in his pockets, holding the square box.
He walked faster to keep warm and turned onto Tim’s block. He spotted the dim light seeping out under the garage door. Opening it, he found all the guys there, holding a flashlight down on the full color pages of hustler magazine. He saw from where he stood a large pair of round tits, hard nipples. Shaking his head, he pulled the box of cigarettes out opening it. Pulling one out, he slipped it in his mouth, lighting it. The guys turned around at once and Cole threw the box to Ron. The guys all grabbed a cigarette, and the matchbook made the rounds until a steady stream of smoke rose up toward the rafters.
“Shit, man , look at those tits. Would love to get my hands on those.”
“Open it. Open the page. It opens full. You can see her pussy, man. Come on.”
The guys all stood, eyes glued to the pages they rifled through. At twelve years old, these pictures were all they had.
Joseph , the guy with all the girl stories, wasn’t there yet. His absence was mentioned once between the guys then quickly forgotten. He was five years older than the rest of them. Probably had something much cooler to do tonight. Probably getting laid was the general consensus.
Cole smoked until he was dizzy. He both hated and loved cigarettes. Since moving here, Cole found it harder to make friends, feeling like an outsider. His family was originally from Ohio and moved to Philly when his father got a better job there six months ago. His parents rented a small house on the outskirts of Philly in a neighborhood that was good but on the verge of turning bad.
The boys laughed and joked about their teachers and the girls they crushed on. Cole felt like he was just
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