The Words - An Autobiography

Missed Opportunities

When I wasn't locked in my room or working at the carwash, I did continue to spend a few after-school hours hanging out with friends. We hung out on the corner, or in various basements, but never my own home, my stepfather's house, where he, my mother, and my sister did their best to cause me a variety of pain, embarrassment, and humiliation. By the late spring of that first year at my new school, around the time my guitar buddy left town for fame and fortune, I hung out almost exclusively with a group of guys I'd met in school at lunch or gym class. Two were brothers, and the older of them soon became my best friend. He was nearly a year younger than me but in the same class at school. The younger brother was a class behind us but far more popular at school than us. He split his time between hanging out with his younger, more popular friends and us. Occasionally, his brother and I would tag along, the inverse of the more common form of sibling interaction. But his popularity never spread to us - principally because we didn't care for his younger, more popular group. The girls acted as though they were better than us. We weren't cool enough. We weren't on the football team. Nor, unlike handsome younger brother, was our appearance up to their standards. And we didn't appreciate being looked down upon by a bunch of kids several years younger than ourselves.

The brothers, it turned out, had a 'cousin,' who suddenly showed up during the summer between our junior and senior years. She was a recent divorcee, who wasn't their cousin in truth, but the ex-wife of a cousin, so not a blood relation of the brothers at all. I wasn't sure of her age. Older than us. She could have been in her mid-twenties or might have been thirty. She invited us to her apartment to watch porn and browse through her considerable collection of pornographic magazines.

One evening, after about an hour spent at her apartment, she informed everyone, sorry, but it was time for her to go to bed. Most of the growing group of a half dozen or more immediately headed out. But waiting on the stairs for the brothers, I learned that they were staying. I'd overheard the cousin mention that she wanted to discuss a private matter with one of them. Since I was their ride home, there was a whispered debate, obviously not in unanimous agreement, before the older brother came down the second-floor apartment stairs to ask if I wanted to stay. I told him I could wait in the car. He came down the last few stairs to the front door and whispered, "She didn't want so many guys still hanging around. But you can stay if you want."

I returned a blank, uncomprehending expression until he was finally forced to explain that she wanted to have sex. Dumbass. Did I want to stay? He headed back up the stair and gestured for me to come along. I lifted one foot to follow him when it felt like a huge pair of hands grabbed my shoulders and spun me around toward the door.

My friend yelled, "Hey!" as I reached for the door, and he gave me a puzzled look when I turned my head. The "cousin" came to the top of the stairs to inquire about the discussion. She had her blouse and bra off and made a comment I couldn't hear. My friend told her, "I don't know. He's religious." He raised his eyebrows at me as if to add, "And, out of his Goddamn mind. Did I see her tits?"

He gave me one last chance. "Sure?"

I wanted to head back up those stairs more than I'd ever wanted anything before but was too terrified to allow myself to do it. I couldn't think about anything else driving home, imagining what I was missing. I told myself I was an idiot and a coward. I went to my room as soon as I was home, threw myself on my bed, then immediately jumped up, locked the door, and took care of what was threatening to take care of itself.

Yeah, they had a good time, was all my best friend would say the next day. His younger brother was not at all shy about providing all the details. He may have embellished, but he described what she looked like naked, that she had a tiny butterfly tattoo a few inches above her panties on one side. She had a neat, trimmed little patch of dark pubes. He told me she gave him a blowjob and asked him to return the favor; then, they'd had sex a couple of times later. What an idiot! I promised myself that the next time I'd stay.

But, the next time, I left again when the awkward moment arrived and told myself again what an idiot I was - what a coward. Then I went to church and was ashamed that I continued to go to her apartment, knowing that it was wrong, yet repeatedly and intentionally, putting myself through the agony of such temptation. Then their 'cousin' left town, and we never saw her again. Stupid! Stupid! Coward!