Twelve Years Ago

Aaron Ward stands in front of my brother’s boombox, his shirt off and a lit joint between his lips as I slowly come down the basement steps. I stop for a second, staring at his chest and feeling like a moron, terrified he’ll catch me watching, my fingers on the smooth wooden railing, my toes curling on the basement steps.

Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon wafts through the air as I take a sniff of the weed stink. I’ve never smoked pot before, my brother won’t let me, but he’s always doing it. I think Davis smokes just to look cool in front of Aaron, and I can’t really blame him.

“Hey, kid,” he says without looking up.

“Hey.” I pretend like I wasn’t just caught staring. I sit down on the steps, looking between the railings at him. “Where’s Davis?”

He shrugs. “Out.”

I nod a little. It’s not unusual to come downstairs and find Aaron alone in our basement. This is practically his second home. We have Bilco doors, the big side-by-side style set right into the base of the house that he sneaks in through, not bothering to ring the doorbell. They’re big, red, and heavy, and my dad once told me he saw a friend nearly lose his finger trying to open a pair of them. I stay away from those doors, but Aaron’s not afraid of them, not at all. He comes and goes as he pleases. It’s weird but I don’t really question it.

I like having Aaron around. I mean, he’s cool in all the ways I’m not.

And plus, he’s looks like something I’m not supposed to touch. Tall, with shaggy dark hair and gorgeous light eyes that stare without any semblance of shame. His body’s lean but muscular from playing sports his whole life. I’m twelve years old and just finally starting to notice boys, but none of them are anything like Aaron. He’s sixteen, four years older than me, and normally he pretends like I don’t exist. But not today for some reason.

“What are you doing?” I ask him.

He glances over at me. “Looking at your brother’s shitty music.” He pauses for a second and hits a button on the old black plastic boombox. The music stops and he opens the top, taking out a CD. He tosses it casually onto the table, the plastic clattering onto a pile of other discarded discs, before taking a long drag of his joint.

I crawl down the steps a little more and watch, fascinated, as he blows out a huge wreath of smoke. Normally, I’d be upstairs studying for my bio exam on Monday but the sound of music drew me down here. Mom and Dad are out somewhere, which is the only reason Aaron’s getting away with smoking openly right now. Although I think he might do it even if they were home, just to see if he could.

“Anything good?” I ask.

“Nah.” He pauses for a second. “Actually…” He pulls out a CD and pops the case open. The front’s black with a guy wearing a big chain and a tank top silhouetted in gray. I can’t read the title as he tosses the CD into the boombox and hits play.

Nothing for a second, and then a strange, lilting song, like an Arabic prayer, high-pitched and warbling. Then discordant piano sounds, or maybe strings plucked wrong, and a smashing beat.

Aaron nods his head along to it, singing softly to himself, Get you some, fortune power fame, get you some…

I come down to the bottom of the steps. “What is this?”

“Busta Bust,” he says, grinning at me, one eye shut still as he takes another hit of the joint. “Want some?” He offers it to me and I stare at him, surprised. Davis would freak out of he knew Aaron just asked me that. They’ve never asked if I wanted any before.

“No, thanks,” I say. I’ve never done drugs and I doubt I ever will. I’m a straight-A student and I can’t risk screwing up my GPA. My teachers say I have potential, whatever that means, and I always listen to my teachers. Little goody gumdrop, my brother sometimes teases when I’m nose-deep in a textbook for hours on end.

Aaron nods, smiling a little. “Good. Stay away from this shit.” He stubs it out on top of the CD case and slips the joint into his pocket before walking over to the couch and flopping down on it.

I drift into the basement, past the boombox shrieking rap, floating toward Aaron. He watches me, a little grin on his face. “Davis told me something the other day,” I say suddenly.

“What’s that?” he asks slowly, almost bored looking, but smiling.

“He said that Billy Porter had sex with Jenny.”

“Jenny?” Aaron laughs. “Yeah, right. Porter never fucked anyone, let alone Jenny. She’s fucking hot.”

I lean up against the arm of the couch. “Have you… had sex?” I feel a thrill of transgression run through me. Good girls like me aren’t supposed to ask older boys questions like that, but this is Aaron. He’s practically my big brother, although he’s definitely not my brother, which makes it that much more confusing. And that much more exciting.

His grin gets bigger. If he’s surprised, he doesn’t let on. “Why are you asking me that, kid?”

“I don’t know. Davis says you did, but he called me a perv for asking with who.”

He’s quiet for a second. “Yeah, I’ve had sex. It’s not a big deal.”

“Really?” I blink, staring at him. It feels like a huge deal, like the biggest deal imaginable. But here’s a guy that smokes weed, knows rap lyrics, sneaks into other people’s houses, and has sex. He’s like an alien to me, a beautiful, alien god.

“Look, when you’re ready, it’ll be like…” He hesitates, looking for the words. “Like poetry, you know? You’ll just feel it, it’ll happen and it’ll be right.” He laughs at himself. “Know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” I say, nodding, although I have no clue what he’s talking about. That’s some bad high school stuff right there, and part of me knows that already, but it’s hard to tell Aaron he’s being cliché. “Sure. Katie told me it really hurts, she said her older sister told her, and—”

“Who’s Katie?”

“Katie Flanagan?”

“Never heard of her.” He shuts his eyes, stretching his legs out. “Listen, Riley, you gotta understand something.” He sits up suddenly, moving closer to me. I can see the muscles on his chest and his abs and I’m staring at him like a moron, but I don’t care. I can’t help myself. “Sex is fun, okay, but you’re just a kid. You’re cool, but you’re a kid. So let it go. Keep studying.” He stares at me for a second. “You get it?”

“Yeah,” I say, shrugging. “Okay.” I realize suddenly that this is the most I’ve ever said to Aaron, and definitely the most he’s ever said to me, but I’m not sure how to feel about it. I’m not some dumb little kid like Jenny or Katie, I’m one of the smartest, most mature girls in my grade. And Aaron just keeps treating me like a little baby. He’s an arrogant asshole, and I don’t understand why I’m even bothering with him right now.

He watches me for another second and I can feel something weird inside of me roiling and shifting like the ocean during a storm. I want to sit down closer to him, but I don’t know why. Maybe I can put my hand on his leg, or he’ll let me touch his chest. I bet he smells good, too.

“The fuck’s going on down here?”

The moment’s ruined as my brother, Davis, comes stomping down the steps. I quickly stand up, moving away from Aaron, praying I’m not blushing too much.

“’Sup, man,” Aaron says, lounging back onto the couch.

Davis sniffs. “Stinks like fucking weed. Are you smoking?”

“I was,” he says, shrugging. “Want a hit?”

Davis hesitates. “Fuck it. Yeah.” He walks over and looks at me like he’s noticing me for the first time. “Don’t you have homework or some shit?”

“Yeah,” I say, standing up.

“Then go do it.” Davis turns back to Aaron. “Move over, asshole.”

He sits down on the couch and I hesitate. Aaron doesn’t even look at me again as he takes the tiny joint from his pocket. I linger there and watch as my brother takes the joint and the lighter before looking at me again.

“Riley, go upstairs,” he says. “You can hang out with us later, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, drifting toward the steps. As I start up, I watch Davis put the joint in his mouth and light it, breathing the smoke deep. He doesn’t look nearly as practiced or comfortable as Aaron does, but then again, everyone pales when compared to him.

I head upstairs as Davis lets out a plume of smoke, the white enveloping the two laughing guys as Davis falls into a coughing fit. The song on the boombox changes and I shut the door behind me.