coming to this school, it’s not closed all the way. And I’m curious what they got in there that they don’t ever let us kids see.
I push on the door lightly in case someone’s inside. A little light is coming in from a half-open window shade on the other side of the room, but near the door, it’s hard to even see what’s in there.
Down the hall I hear Nashawn’s locker close, and a few seconds later he’s standing behind me in the doorway. He don’tsay anything. He just follows me inside and closes the door behind him. Before I know what’s happening, his hands are around my waist, nice and strong, and then a second later he has me up against a wall.
And it’s on.
FIFTEEN
It’s weird because, even though I know what’s happening, can feel everything, it’s like I’m not really there. It’s like I’m watching somebody else. Not me.
His hands are on my waist, holding me against the wall as he’s kissing me. This isn’t the first time I kissed a guy. I did it before, back in sixth and seventh grade when us girls used to play games with the boys from Bronxwood, but feeling how Nashawn is kissing me now, with his tongue all deep in my mouth, I know this is my first real kiss.
And I’m kissing him back, too. It don’t matter that I don’t really know what I’m doing. I’m just going with it.
When his hands start undoing the zipper on my jeans, I just let him. I even help him take them off me. Then, when he pulls my panties down, I step outta them, too. Fast. Without even thinking.
It’s like whatever he wants to do, I’m gonna do it, no problem. No resistance, no matter where his hands go or what they do. Like it’s something I do every day.
And this goes on for a while, with me and him up against the wall, ’til finally he’s leading me over to a big table in the middle of the room. My eyes have adjusted a little bit and I can see him move a couple of chairs outta the way. Then he lifts me up and puts me on the table, facing him.
I wrap my legs around him to keep him as close to me as possible, and we kiss some more. Then I hear him unzip his jeans. And finally I shake my head, trying to wake myself up, and whisper, “I can’t. My grandmother, she’s gonna, um, have me checked.”
I can barely make out his expression even though his face isn’t even an inch away from mine. “Checked?”
“You know. By the doctor.” His hands are all over me, making it hard to concentrate on what I’m trying to say. “To see if I’m still a, um, virgin.”
But that don’t stop him for a second. He’s breathing heavy in my ear and says, “I need a blow job.” And he picks me up off the table.
And, just like that, I do it. I listen to him tell me what to do and how, and all I wanna do is keep him there with me. For as long as I can.
And then he’s done. I stand up and wanna say something to make this last a little longer, but I can’t think of anything. A few seconds later, his pants are zipped back up and his hands aren’t on me anymore. “I left my duffel bag in the hall,” he says, talking fast. “I don’t want someone to steal it.”
And then he’s gone. And me, I’m just standing there, in the middle of the teachers’ lounge, half dressed, still trying to catch my breath.
I find my panties and jeans in the darkness and put my clothes on, taking my time, not sure that what just happened was real, not a dream. When I get back out in the hallway, it’s empty.
I walk to the staircase, slow, listening to the sound of my own footsteps. And as I leave the building, I know for a fact that, for the first time in my life, I have no idea what I’m doing.
SIXTEEN
Back at Bronxwood, I get off the bus and walk with my head down toward my building. It’s getting dark out, but practically every kid in the projects is outside, running around or on bikes or scooters. Screaming and laughing like they lost their minds or something.
It wasn’t all that long ago that me, Adonna, and some
I push on the door lightly in case someone’s inside. A little light is coming in from a half-open window shade on the other side of the room, but near the door, it’s hard to even see what’s in there.
Down the hall I hear Nashawn’s locker close, and a few seconds later he’s standing behind me in the doorway. He don’tsay anything. He just follows me inside and closes the door behind him. Before I know what’s happening, his hands are around my waist, nice and strong, and then a second later he has me up against a wall.
And it’s on.
FIFTEEN
It’s weird because, even though I know what’s happening, can feel everything, it’s like I’m not really there. It’s like I’m watching somebody else. Not me.
His hands are on my waist, holding me against the wall as he’s kissing me. This isn’t the first time I kissed a guy. I did it before, back in sixth and seventh grade when us girls used to play games with the boys from Bronxwood, but feeling how Nashawn is kissing me now, with his tongue all deep in my mouth, I know this is my first real kiss.
And I’m kissing him back, too. It don’t matter that I don’t really know what I’m doing. I’m just going with it.
When his hands start undoing the zipper on my jeans, I just let him. I even help him take them off me. Then, when he pulls my panties down, I step outta them, too. Fast. Without even thinking.
It’s like whatever he wants to do, I’m gonna do it, no problem. No resistance, no matter where his hands go or what they do. Like it’s something I do every day.
And this goes on for a while, with me and him up against the wall, ’til finally he’s leading me over to a big table in the middle of the room. My eyes have adjusted a little bit and I can see him move a couple of chairs outta the way. Then he lifts me up and puts me on the table, facing him.
I wrap my legs around him to keep him as close to me as possible, and we kiss some more. Then I hear him unzip his jeans. And finally I shake my head, trying to wake myself up, and whisper, “I can’t. My grandmother, she’s gonna, um, have me checked.”
I can barely make out his expression even though his face isn’t even an inch away from mine. “Checked?”
“You know. By the doctor.” His hands are all over me, making it hard to concentrate on what I’m trying to say. “To see if I’m still a, um, virgin.”
But that don’t stop him for a second. He’s breathing heavy in my ear and says, “I need a blow job.” And he picks me up off the table.
And, just like that, I do it. I listen to him tell me what to do and how, and all I wanna do is keep him there with me. For as long as I can.
And then he’s done. I stand up and wanna say something to make this last a little longer, but I can’t think of anything. A few seconds later, his pants are zipped back up and his hands aren’t on me anymore. “I left my duffel bag in the hall,” he says, talking fast. “I don’t want someone to steal it.”
And then he’s gone. And me, I’m just standing there, in the middle of the teachers’ lounge, half dressed, still trying to catch my breath.
I find my panties and jeans in the darkness and put my clothes on, taking my time, not sure that what just happened was real, not a dream. When I get back out in the hallway, it’s empty.
I walk to the staircase, slow, listening to the sound of my own footsteps. And as I leave the building, I know for a fact that, for the first time in my life, I have no idea what I’m doing.
SIXTEEN
Back at Bronxwood, I get off the bus and walk with my head down toward my building. It’s getting dark out, but practically every kid in the projects is outside, running around or on bikes or scooters. Screaming and laughing like they lost their minds or something.
It wasn’t all that long ago that me, Adonna, and some
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