I was upstairs surrounded by the woodpaneling that made up his walls and was staring at the open closet door that had an unused hanger hooked to the inside and plenty of shirts slung over it’s doorway. There was a lightbulb on in the middle inside of it and hangers were on the floor besides more shirts, a couple of cracked jewel cases and a worn brown shoe with the back heel sunken in, stuffed with a black ankle sock. I clapped and clasped my hands together on my lap and watched him run his hands along a splinter in his guitar. He had all his lights on that he could in this room, there was a green desk one on clipped to a small white cutter board desk tucked away in the corner next to a white entertainment stand. And there was the one up above us in a broken globe attached to the paddle fan which was on high. I was leaning back against the bolster attached to his twin bed which I lifted up when he had his back turned towards his guitar, to see a couple of magazines, a porn video, a half-opened package of Pearloid guitar picks, and some flowery drawer liner paper rolled up to the side. He said with his back to me, “So why are you here,” and I swallowed and told him that I heard him playing from downstairs and that I was walking back from a friend’s house and I it sounded nice, could I hear some more? I slipped a cigarette in my mouth just for the feel of it then took it out when he turned towards me.
“I wasn’t playing any music,” He said.
“Must have been the stereo then. It sounded neat anyway.” I pretended to puff my cigarette.
“You can’t smoke, my parents would smell it downstairs.”
“I know,” I said. “Just like to pretend.” His black shirt was worn and his back was to me again. He’d shaved his head and I watched him scratch the top of his white arms while he did something seemed to braid the metal ends of his guitar strings. He was squatting resting all of his weight on his feet which had on black Adidas with no socks. I wanted to come up behind him and put my arms around his weight to see what he was doing with the strings but I thumbed through the CD collection on his intable to the right of his twin bed and to the left of his window, in the corner. A black and green porcelain lamp gave the room a tropical sorta island look and after I found Soul Revolution by Bob Marley and the Wailers and asked him if I could stick it in his stereo, which I did. But the disc got jumbled up inside skipping over all the other ones and J set his guitar down and came over and leaned over where my hand was and pushed some buttons on top of mine until the disc drawer came out and he straightened them all out with one hand. I turned around and hugged his ankle and told him this would be a nice place to put a tattoo of an octopus and he stood there with his arms at his sides checking it out. He pushed me back onto his bed, shut off the switch from his light though the desk lamp remained on, locked his door and got on top of me on his bed. He pushed his tounge into my mouth and we kissed hard and long and reached under his shorts until I found his butt and I squeezed and wrapped my hands around his waist and made out with him some more. We were acting like we were having sex already with our clothes and as I kept making out with him I said that I wanted to if he would and I surprised myself at how well I kissed. He asked me if I’d ever done this before and I said I’d come close wanting to have been experienced since eight grade and he asked me how close and I told him. He said he probably had a condom lying around here somewhere and he got up and emptied out a drawer underneath the entertainment stand until he found one, coming back over towards the desk lamp and snapping it off before getting back on top of me and unbuttoning my pants. I helped slide of his shorts with my shoes and I kicked those off then he pulled off my shirt and I pulled his up so that our chests were touching. I heard him fumbled with the condom sometime and he pulled his boxers off and then we were having sex. I pulled over the thick worn grey bedspread and let him go fast whlile held onto his shoulders and smelled his neck. He was saying things to me that like he meant them….
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