there were nasty boys in our neighborhood as myself and my sisters grew to teenagers.

there was one in particular that loved to expose himself to me. he’d started when we were in grade school. i was the oldest of 3 girls, my sisters one and two years behind me, and i WAS the target of most of the boys in that neighborhood.

i’m not going to name names or cite ages, but my friend taught me about the male anatomy, and i taught him about the female anatomy.

okay, okay, so i was a nasty girl!…..i prefer to think i was curious beyond my years. my friend and i never got beyond heavy petting and mutual masturbation in large part because his mother was a good friend of my mother.

but this one day, he took me to a different place for fun. our usual was behind my grandfather’s house in an old barn, but this day he took me down the path behind the old schoolhouse where the wild plum bushes were. i’d been there often, but i was curious to know why we weren’t doing our usual routine, one that i’d become very fond of.

i knew we were getting close to the old house the black people lived in as we approached the edge of the berry patch. i kept kicking him, telling him we needed to go back, but he wouldn’t listen.

my mother had given explicite warnings to us as kids that if we went to the patch, to never venture to the north side, and i knew we were at the edge of the north side. i could see the old house, and almost fainted as i watched him run into the clearing between our hidden location, and towards the dark figure in the dirt yard.

i stood and watched, my heart racing as i saw my friend begin to talk to the young negroe. i knew for a fact that i could out-run my friend in a foot race, so i took solace in beleiving i could out-run his friend too.

i stood behind a thicket, and watched the young negro’s gaze turn towards me. my guts turned to jelly as i watched my friend grin and nod, him waving to me to come over.

i ran home in a blind fury, never giving the briars their just reward as they tore my skin. i told my mother that i’d fallen from my bike, and waited to see the little asshole the next day in school.

in first period, i confronted him with my fists balled, putting one in his face as i glanced to see if the teacher was in the room. he was grinning as he took my fist and put it at my side. “it’s not like that, and you need to calm down!,” he said. we both sat up in our seats as the teacher walked in.

in the cafeteria he explained that he was a friend. “how is he a friend?”, i asked. “we’re not supposed to go back there that far, and you know it!” i was fuming as i sat at our usual table. “i go back there all the time,” he said as he sat. “you mean we’re supposed to do what we’re told all the time?” he grinned as he took a bite of the pbj sandwich.