Sneaking Out

I shifted uncomfortably on the grit of the still-warm roof shingles, trying to arrange my legs into a position that was casual but attractive. Adrian's brother should have been there to pick me up by 11pm- it was probably 11:30. I'd waited so long that my legs were sweaty and my hands had imprints and black granules embedded in the palms. I examined the backyard fence close to the roof- it was an improbable but not impossible leap from one to the other. My way back in the house. Finally, headlights turned on to the street and a boxy boat of a car made its way slowly towards my house. I jumped from the roof but had misjudged the distance to the ground and landed ungracefully. I could see Adrian's brother's big arm hanging out of the window, flicking a cigarette with one hand impatiently. "Come on, girl." he said.

I climbed into the back seat, wishing he would hurry up and drive away, afraid his headlights would wake up my parents. His friend Carlos was in the passenger seat, but it was leaned so far back he barely had to crane his neck to look at me. "This Adrian's girl, huh." he said, not to me. His baseball cap was pulled low and his eyes were barely open. He was staring at my feet or ankles or something on the floorboard at first, but his eyes made their way to my lap then up to my chest. He paused there for a long time, examining, and then looked at my face, licked his lips and laughed. "Shiiiittt, man." He turned around and we drove. I looked out of the window, my arms crossed over my chest, and watched the green, manicured lawns transition to brown and patchy. The driveways became cracked and the houses seemed to move closer together.

It didn't occur to me to worry about being in a stolen car with two older boys who, at 14, were too young to have a drivers license. Nor was I concerned about being in the house with them (without parents) and what might happen at the house once I was there. My singular and very present fear was that my parents would discover I was gone before Adrian's brother could bring me home. There was a solid ball of anxiety sitting at the bottom of my stomach.

We finally pulled into a driveway at the end of a cul-de-sac and I followed them into the house. The only light was coming from a tv that had been left on, but the house felt dark anyway. Brown carpet, big brown sofa, heavy furniture. "You have to take your shoes off." his brother said. Then, "Adrian!" I pulled my sneakers off at the heel with my toes, one after another, and pushed them onto the plastic mat with the others. Adrian came out of a room in the hallway. It looked like he'd been sleeping. He was wearing long mesh gym shorts and a white frayed tank top that hung loosely even though he was big. He smiled and said "Hey". He wasn't cute, but his smile was. It made him look his age- a boy, even though he could easily pass for 25. "Adrian, man. That your girl? Y'all gonna get nasty tonight, huh?" Carlos laughed. "Man fuck you, Carlos," Adrian responded. He put his arm around me, almost completely encircling my neck and led me into the room he'd come from.

I was thirsty, but I didn't want to ask him for any water. He led me in and closed the door behind him, locking it. His room was even darker than the living room and it took my eyes a moment to adjust. "You wanna listen to music?" he asked. I sat down on the edge of his bed. "Sure." He rustled through cassette tapes scattered across his dresser and put one in the giant silver player before sitting next to me. "Come here," he said, pulling me on to his lap. He put his giant hand around my jaw and pulled it towards him, then opened my mouth with his. He'd kissed me once before, exactly like this, in the gym when all the kids and teachers were outside. This one lasted longer. He lips were big, but soft, and he used his tongue the entire time. It was incredibly wet but not unpleasant.

"Lay down," he said. The ball in my stomach unfurled into a thick rope and moved into my chest. I did it, though, of course. It was why I was there after all. He laid on his side next to me and kissed me more, and the way he kissed me felt the same. No more insistent or eager than before. But his hand was now on my chest, gripping and squeezing my boobs like stress balls he'd just discovered. "Take off your shirt." He wasn't asking, but it wasn't rude. He pushed my bra up into my neck and continued squeezing, first one side, then the other, while we kissed. The knock at the door was so loud I yelped. "Adrian what are y'all doing, man?" Carlos laughed. "Adrian, lemme show that little girlfriend what to do, man. Open the door." Adrian jumped off the bed and squared up to the door, "I will fuck you up, Carlos," he said. "Want me to open it and beat your ass? Ask me again." Carlos laughed again and knocked something against the door- a beer bottle? "Aight, aight."

Adrian turned back around, pissed. "Fucking Carlos is such a little bitch," he said. "Why's your brother friends with him?" I asked. He didn't answer, but came over to the bed and kissed me again. This time his hand went to my stomach and started to push it's way down, looking for another area to grip and squeeze. The rope was wound so tightly inside my chest and stomach I could hardly breathe. I put my hand over his and he stopped. He pulled away and said, "I want you to do something." The rope pulled tighter. I wanted to ask what it was, or what would happen if I said no, but instead I said, "Okay". I looked past him to the clock on the nightstand. The red numbers were screaming 1:35am. "Do you think your brother could take me home after?" "Don't worry," he said, and turned to his nightstand, pulling something out and setting it on the bed. He pulled his mesh shorts off so that he was only wearing the white tank top and got on the bed on his knees next to me.

He was so much bigger all of a sudden, towering over me. I became acutely aware of my bra around my neck, nearly choking me. I sat up and took it off, looking at the clock again. It was pulsing 1:46. He picked up whatever he'd put on the bed. A jar of Vaseline. "You can use this," he said. I leaned back on my elbows, looking up at him. "Use it?" He made a clicking sound with his tongue. "Don't worry, it gets bigger." he said. The Vaseline was too thick and I wasn't sure how to handle his penis the right way. He did get bigger, but not for very long, and my arm got tired and it felt awkward even when his hand was on top of mine, showing me what to do. He finally laid down next to me. "I'm tired," he said. I was, too. Exhausted. "Okay," I said. "Can your brother take me home?" Adrian had his eyes closed already. "He's out there," he responded, jutting his chin toward the living room. "Can you ask him?" He made the sound with his tongue again and I understood that it was the sound he made when he was annoyed. He put on his shorts and left.

The clock was casting a red, hazy square onto the nightstand. 3:00am. 3:00am. 3:00am. 3:01am. My dad sometimes woke up before 5:00am to work. Adrian returned with a glass of some kind of juice, or Coke, but only one. "He'll take you soon," and laid back down. I closed my eyes, knowing he wouldn't. I breathed in, and out, and felt the rope in my stomach tie itself back into a familiar knot, settling at the bottom, solid and still. I put my shirt back on and waited, watching the red square quietly flicker, once every 60 seconds.