THEN
It was right around the time of my first piercing when things between Seth and me shifted in the physical realm as well. Of course, we’d messed around a few times, and he’d given me that one exceptional blow job, but beyond that, Seth had been treating me more like a friend than a boyfriend, which left me frustrated and bewildered and caused me to doubt my own sex appeal, which was not something I was confident about to begin with.
Perhaps when I thought Seth had been remaking me into someone cooler, he’d actually been trying to remake me into someone older.
I’ve since talked to friends about their first relationships and how they started having sex, and they’ve more or less told me it just happened. They were horny and decided to do it or they wanted to wait but couldn’t stop themselves. It was impulsive, rash, lusting, sometimes messy, often awkward, but the thing they had in common was that they didn’t seem to give all that much thought to it.
Seth approached sex with the same meticulous attention he’d given to my lessons in musical theory. There was an order to things. A method. There were corrections to be made and feedback to be elicited. He trained me in the way he liked for things to be done. Seth liked to be in control in most areas of our relationship but especially in our sexual explorations, which meant there were several demands and not many negotiations. Not necessarily because Seth wouldn’t listen, but because I didn’t try. I had no boundaries with him because it never occurred to me I might need them. And perhaps because I was young, and my body was still somewhat of a mystery to me, I let Seth do all of the testing and probing to see what kind of responses he might get. I sensed that his other experiences were far briefer and more hurried and that he’d never before had the opportunity to take his time in the way that he could with me.
The things we did, even the things I initially questioned, all felt really good and if our goal was to get off in increasingly thrilling ways, then I’d be an idiot to stop him.
The only rule I had was that he had to wear a condom for anal. Our first fight was about that. He didn’t want to, but I insisted. It took me leaving in a huff and ignoring him the next day for him to agree to it.
In one way, Seth gave me the gift of exploring my own sexuality in a safe setting without judgment or shame. In another way, he made me beholden to him because I didn’t think I could possibly reach those heights without him.
Our first time wasn’t so great. Our second time was only a little bit better. But our third time was memorable. Perhaps it was because I was more relaxed by then, and I knew what to expect. I didn’t tense up, but instead, as Seth had instructed, I gave into it. Seth was behind me, my face buried in the pillows, ass in the air. He hit my prostate with unerring accuracy, and his mom wasn’t home, so we were both able to get loud. I came first with him chasing right behind. Afterward I felt so taken care that all I wanted to do was hunker down in his arms and bask in this warm, satiated contentment.
“That was incredible, Seth. Thank you for that,” I whispered into his ear and then kissed the corner of his jaw.
“You’re welcome,” Seth said, glowing from the praise. He held me closer. “I live for these moments, you know.”
I thought he meant sex, but perhaps he also meant our moments of connection.
I nuzzled against his neck, and he rolled me over so that I was on my back. He was laid out alongside me, propped up on his elbow and looking me over. I used to shy away from his gaze, but I’d grown accustomed to his attention and in moments like that, I relished it.
“I feel like Pygmalion,” Seth said as he dragged his fingers lazily across my stomach. My abs tightened because that was one of my ticklish spots.
“Is that a rock band?” I asked. I didn’t know much about mythology, but it was one of Seth’s passions. He loved to tell me stories about the Greek and Roman gods—he thought their passions much more accurately reflected human behavior, as opposed to the Christian examples of morality.
Seth chuckled and kissed my forehead. “No, it’s not a rock band. Pygmalion was a sculptor who fell in love with his creation. He made offerings to the gods, and Aphrodite turned his sculpture into a real live person. As a gift.”
I bit my lip and stared at him. I didn’t know if he was trying to tell me he loved me or if it was something else about the story that struck him. I knew that I loved him, but I didn’t want to be the first to say it.
“Am I the sculpture?” I asked.
Seth nodded and kissed the tip of my nose. “I couldn’t have dreamed you any more stunning than you are. It’s like you were made for me.”
I smiled arrogantly and struck a pose, showing off for him. “You are my stylist, so you probably deserve some of the credit.”
He shook his head. “That stuff is superficial, but this…” He traced the shape of my rib cage and kissed the top of my stomach. I kind of wanted him to go lower. “The first time I saw you…” He drifted off as if remembering. “It made me physically ache. I thought you were new to the neighborhood. I couldn’t believe you’d been just a couple of blocks over this whole time. And then I thought, what are the chances you’d be into guys? It was like lightning struck twice.”
“And that’s when the great seduction began,” I teased.
He smiled and shook his head. “Yeah, something like that. You aren’t exactly the type to hit it and quit it.”
“I’m flattered?” I drew his free hand to my chest and used his nails to scratch myself. He kept the nails of his right hand long, for picking his guitar. He was great as a back scratcher.
“You should be. You made an honest man out of me, Hiroku Hayashi.”
That struck me as funny, so I laughed. Seth tickled me into submission, then grappled me in a big bear hug.
“But I never expected this,” he said.
“It’s like we already knew each other,” I answered.
“Our birthdays are almost exactly six months apart. You know what that means, don’t you?”
I shook my head, still smiling. Astrology was another of Seth’s passions. He explained to me that astrology was based on a duodecimal system, like music, and our signs, him a Leo and me an Aquarius, were 180 degrees apart on the astrological chart.
“That’s the farthest away we could possibly be,” I argued.
“Opposites attract. You are the air to my fire.”
He petted my head, and I drew him down into a long, languid kiss while hooking my leg around the backs of his thighs to press his growing erection against mine. I didn’t give much thought to Seth’s horoscope mumbo-jumbo, but I liked that he’d put in the time and effort in trying to figure us out.
“It’s written in the stars,” I murmured.
Seth nodded, his eyes electric. “Yes, it is.”
“What’s going on with you and Seth?”
We were at lunch when Sabrina said this to me. I glanced up from my PB&J to stare at her, not knowing how to answer. Sabrina knew we were together—the whole school knew—but I never really talked much about our relationship. Sabrina didn’t approve—not that she’d ever said it outright; it was just something I sensed from the things she said about him and the way in which she said them. I also didn’t want to be one of those people who got a boyfriend and talked nonstop about it.
“Nothing. Why?”
“Yesterday during lunch, I followed you.”
I choked a little on my food. Seth and I went for a walk to the edge of campus, behind the cafeteria where the school keeps its dumpsters. There were no cameras in the alleyway that ran along a brick wall, a space just wide enough for two people.
“We were just talking,” I told her. We were not talking.
“Behind the dumpster?”
I shrugged. “All right, we were making out.” We were doing more than making out.
“Again, behind the dumpster?”
I was already embarrassed by it, and my humiliation grew exponentially as her disbelief turned to pity. My whole face flamed up at the thought of what we were doing, how reckless it was, how willingly I went along with Seth’s very risky idea.
“I don’t think he’s good for you, Hiroku.”
“Why not?” I assumed that like Mai, she was worried about his drug use or sporadic school attendance.
“He’s too controlling.”
“What? Controlling? No, he’s not.”
She gave me a look, then listed a few examples. The way he could get obsessive about reaching me was one of them. How he’d call me, and I’d drop everything to meet up with him. And sometimes he’d go through my phone, saying he was searching for something online, but I suspected it was to make sure I wasn’t texting with anyone else.
But Seth would drop everything for me too, and I liked the extra attention he gave to me. It was proof he was into me, and if he was worried about me texting other guys, it meant I was desirable.
And it wasn’t as if I’d lost my personality completely. There were plenty of times I pushed back. It was one of the things Seth liked about me—my snotty, sarcastic side.
“You should hang out with us sometime,” I told her. Marching band was finishing up, so she’d have more free time. My family, Sabrina, and Seth…the three spheres of my life hardly overlapped, which meant that at times, I felt like three entirely different people.
“I think that’s a good idea,” Sabrina said.
Later on, I suggested it to Seth, and he seemed agreeable. “Let us meet this best friend of yours,” he said and waved his arm grandly, “who is not a freshman, but a sophomore.” He remembered the first impression he’d made with Sabrina. I hoped that meant he was going to try a little harder this time.
We made plans for all of us to hang out later in the week at Seth’s garage. Sabrina lived close enough that Mitchell could give her a ride home afterward. Seth and Mitchell were working on a complete set of songs. They’d decided that this time they were going to find a drummer who fit with their style rather than the other way around.
On the appointed day, we all piled into Mitchell’s Malibu and headed for Seth’s house. Seth kept up the conversation with Sabrina, asking about marching band and how the two of us met—it was in day camp when we were in elementary school. We bonded over arts ‘n’ crafts and color war and kept up our friendship throughout the school year with a shared love of comic books, manga and horror movies.
Something I hadn’t factored was Sabrina’s passion for rock and roll. She and Seth spent, like, an hour fanboying over their favorite bands and musicians with Mitchell piping in from time to time. In Seth’s garage they played her their most obscure tracks, most of which Sabrina had already heard or knew about. Her knowledge of the greats nearly outpaced Seth and Mitchell’s. After some deliberation, they played her a song they’d been working on, one where I’d helped with the lyrics. Sabrina was pretty enthusiastic about it. Seth said they were looking for a drummer and asked her if she wanted to audition.
“For your band?” Sabrina asked with disbelief.
It had never occurred to me to have Sabrina join their band, but when Seth said it, it made total sense. She’d get to know Seth a little better—realize that his intentions were good—and we’d be able to spend more time together without me feeling bad about ditching one of them.
“You’d kill it,” I told her. I talked her up to Seth and Mitchell. “She can play, like, any song you give her. And she only has to hear it once.”
Sabrina glanced around the garage. “I don’t have a drum set. I usually use the school’s.”
“One will be provided for you,” Seth said gallantly.
We made plans to come back the next day, but when we got there, it wasn’t just Seth and Mitchell in his garage, but Caleb, Sasha and Jeannie too. I think Seth wanted to pack the house to see if it would intimidate her, but it only fed Sabrina’s competitive spirit. She’d been playing percussion in a male-dominated field since middle school. She ate that pissing-contest shit up like Mario ate magic mushrooms.
Besides that, Sabrina had an iron core, something I’d always admired about her. She knew exactly who she was, and she wasn’t about to cowed back by anyone. In that regard, she was Seth’s match in every way.
And her talent was undeniable.
The drum kit looked like a Frankenstein’s monster of a few different used drum sets, likely cobbled together last-minute by Mitchell and Seth. Seth, having grown up poor, was really resourceful when it came to getting ahold of things secondhand.
They gave Sabrina Metallica, Led Zeppelin, Stone Temple Pilots, Black Keys, White Stripes, Band of Skulls, and Kill It Kid. She’d listen to the song once, then play along, more or less perfectly, sometimes adding her own spin. Cool and confident and loud. She really was a marvel.
As if that wasn’t enough to prove her talent, Seth wanted to try out a couple of his and Mitchell’s tunes. To Mitchell’s credit, the bass line had evolved a bit. Seth sang the melody like a tomcat on the prowl; it was sexual, powerful, and lusting. Sabrina sat for a moment nodding her head with the beat and then joined in. Where their song seemed a little listless and wandering before, Sabrina’s drumming made it purposeful and tight.
After a couple more covers, the band took a break. Seth offered Sabrina a drink from the fridge in his garage. The seniors all drank beer. Sabrina and I got sodas.
“So?” Sabrina asked, bright-eyed and eager. Her curly red hair was pulled back in a ponytail with a few tendrils loosened and damp with sweat. Her shirtsleeves were rolled up to show off her biceps. She had great arms, all cut and beastly. I’ll admit, I was a little jealous. Basketball just didn’t provide the same results as beating drums.
“The band will have to discuss it,” Seth said cagily, which bothered me a little.
“Isn’t Rico starting a band too?” I said to let Seth know that Sabrina was in demand. I didn’t mention that his was a school-sanctioned jazz band.
Seth shot me a look. “Why don’t you and Sabrina get some fresh air while the adults talk it over?”
I glared at him. I hated it when he drew that line between us.
Outside their garage, Sabrina’s face was still glowing with small beads of perspiration on her forehead and upper lip. “That was really awesome,” she said, still pumped from the experience.
“You were awesome,” I told her.
“Do you and Seth always act like that?”
“Like what?”
“You know, the power struggles?”
It was such a strange observation, but after she’d said it, it did make sense. “I guess so. He’s kind of a dick sometimes.”
“Yeah, I got that impression.”
“But he means well.” I shouldn’t be talking shit about my boyfriend. “He just gets a little bossy sometimes, especially when it comes to his music.”
And me, I silently added.
“You think they’ll take me?” Sabrina asked, having already moved on.
I glanced back to where the five of them were in a huddle. I doubted they were even talking about Sabrina. Seth had already made up his mind. I knew it shortly after their first song. Sabrina raised their game to the next level, and there weren’t exactly drummers banging down the door to join some unknown high school garage rock band.
“I think they will. Play it cool and make some demands. Seth will respect you more for it.”
Sabrina nodded. “I’ve always wanted to be in a band. At school, they only let you play one beat at a time. I much prefer having my own set.” She smiled and pumped her fist. “What a rush.”
We finished our sodas, and I used the heel of my shoe to crush our cans. Seth’s eyes lifted from the huddle, and I gave him a warning look. I didn’t want him jerking Sabrina around. He motioned for us to rejoin them.
“After much deliberation and consideration, the band has come to a conclusion...” Seth glanced to Mitchell, then me. “Sabrina Hamilton, we’d like for you to join our band.” Seth paused and looked a little sheepish. “We’re still working out a name.”
Sabrina didn’t answer right away, just stared at Seth with her stubborn chin jutting outward to the point that Seth followed it up with, “So, you in?”
“There are a few things you should know about me,” she said with a defiant look. Classic Sabrina. “I like to play loud. I don’t want you telling me how to dress or do my hair. If you hit on me, I will punch you in the face, and whatever money the band brings in, I want my fair share.”
Seth’s eyebrows rose, and Mitchell chuckled. Sasha smiled smugly and threw her arm around Sabrina. “I like this one. She’s got grit.”
“How do you feel about creative control?” Seth asked.
“You do your job, and I’ll do mine.”
Seth nodded and held out his hand. “I think we’re going to get along fine.”
The band wanted to continue practicing, and Sabrina needed to get home, so I walked her to her house before continuing on to my own. Later that night I was FaceTiming with Seth when he asked if I could sneak out because his mom was staying the night at her boyfriend’s, and he was lonely. My parents had already gone to bed, but Mai was still awake and studying. I told Seth I couldn’t because of the aforementioned reason, but he begged and pleaded until I finally told him I’d try.
I popped over to Mai’s room and told her I had to run an errand.
“Where would you need to go at this hour?” she asked. It was after ten o’clock.
“I need more…supplies,” I told her, which wasn’t a lie. She rolled her eyes and made a face at me, then told me to be back by midnight or she was waking up our parents. I stopped by the gas station for more condoms then biked over to Seth’s house. When I got there, he greeted me with an exuberant kiss. Then we raced each other up the stairs to his bedroom, tore away our clothes like they were made of tissue paper, and went at it.
Afterward, we were lying naked in his bed with the covers off because it was hot in his room even with the ceiling fan on. Seth’s house always had a cloying heat about it because their air conditioner was broken, and his mother couldn’t afford or didn’t want to fix it or buy a new one. I’d already promised myself to buy Seth a window unit for Christmas—a gift to the both of us.
As I was lying there, I began thinking again about Sabrina—what she’d said about our power struggles and how tough she’d been with Seth earlier that day, how well he’d responded. I started to worry I was too submissive and that Seth might be taking advantage of my compliant, eager-to-please nature by making increasingly impossible demands. Even worse was the fear that if I was too much of a pushover, he’d get tired of me and move on.
“We can’t do that stuff at school anymore,” I said to him. I was lying on my back with my arms splayed outward like a bat.
“What stuff?” Seth asked, playing dumb. I turned my head to give him a look. His eyes narrowed, not appreciating the attitude in my expression. “Did you tell someone about it?”
I didn’t answer him, so Seth rolled up to a cross-legged position beside me. He drew his thumbnail down the center of my chest, from my sternum to my navel, like a medical examiner performing an autopsy.
“Did you tell Sabrina?” His tone was gentle, but I sensed a warning lurking there.
“No, she followed us the other day during lunch.”
“That’s creepy.”
I looked upward and tracked the lethargic path of the ceiling fan, so he couldn’t read my expression. “Anyway, it can’t happen again.”
“Why not?” he asked testily.
“Seth, I was giving you head behind the dumpster. At our high school. I mean, that’s kind of gross, not to mention all the broken glass, and if someone caught us, we’d probably get expelled.” I didn’t want to think about my parents finding out—what a disaster that would be.
“We wouldn’t get expelled,” he said like I was overreacting.
“Expelled or not, we can’t risk it.”
“I don’t want other people dictating our relationship.”
I threw up my hands in frustration. “This has nothing to do with other people, Seth. This is what I want.”
“I don’t think so.”
He was being unreasonable, and this was further proof that I needed to stand up for myself. My anger at even having to fight with him about it made me rigid and prickly. I sat up and started putting on my clothes. I couldn’t win against him in an argument, but I was an expert at the silent treatment. My frosty silence was my protest, and Seth, even with his compulsion to be in charge, was getting better at knowing when to back down.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Seth asked as I yanked up my jeans. “We’re in the middle of a conversation.”
“This isn’t a conversation. This is you refusing to listen to me.”
“I am listening, Hiroku, but I don’t want you telling Sabrina or anyone else about the things we do,” Seth said possessively.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s none of her business,” he said severely. “And because our sex life is interesting, and I don’t want her to influence you with her missionary-only, wait-until-marriage Puritanical bullshit.”
I doubted Sabrina was as much of a prude as Seth made her out to be, and it wasn’t that I wanted to tell her about the mechanics of what we did, more that I wanted to talk to someone else about the way he made me feel. I was a private person, but all of this was new to me, and sometimes I felt like I needed a second opinion.
“Is this normal?” I asked him, trusting him to know because even though I didn’t like to think about it, he’d been with several other people before me. “It feels way too powerful to me.” He felt too powerful. I had no control over myself when we were together, and I felt the same way when we were apart.
Seth reached for my hand and pulled me down on top of him. My pants were on but undone enough for him to snake his hand inside and give me a gentle squeeze. He kissed me with fervor, until my frustration with him felt petty and insignificant, and all I wanted was to be held like this, kissed like this, adored by him.
“Why would you want normal, Hiroku?” he asked with his sphinxlike smile. He was so good at putting my questions back at me.
“You know what I mean.” I propped myself on my forearms, still straddling his hips with my thighs.
“I’m liberating you, Hiroku, and purging you of all the heteronormative garbage you’ve been spoonfed your entire life. Our sexuality is the ultimate expression of our art. Why would you want to box yourself in by society’s expectations? The spectacle of who, what, when, where, etcetera, etcetera…”
I gave him a hard look. In the same way Seth was learning when to back off when I felt cornered, I was learning how to sift through his bullshit. I pushed myself off the bed to finish dressing. It was now a lot more difficult to zip up my pants.
“School’s off limits,” I said as the final word. “You can wait until after 2 p.m. to unleash your artistic expression on me.”
Seth winked at me like a scoundrel. “Fine, but only because I love it when you play hard to get.”
“Not that hard,” I fussed at him, which only made his smug smile widen.