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‘They go: “Mira, are you a doggy?”’
In the picture for ‘orgy,’ the woman was drawn on her hands and knees and four guys around her were squeezing her tits, holding her hips, pushing her ass. Ezrah called the woman a doggy. Like I want it now. Doggy! Doggy!
‘You love getting fucked on your hands and knees.’
More. Push it more. I want it harder, more! I don’t care if it hurts!
‘Shit, you know how to move. Sexy little girl. How’d you learn how to move?’
John was splitting my ass and watching me jiggle. Wind screamed through the window screen.
‘Yeah, fuck, baby, fuck it.’
Fast up and down. There was thunder behind me. I felt my own body shoot out of my body.
Ezrah knew I was scared of being alone.
In the summers when we were kids we used to walk in the ravine near my house where the darkness of trees made the sun disappear. I’d pick flowers on those paths while Ezrah screamed up at the branches to freak out the birds.
He never wanted to hold my hand. Whenever we held hands it was because I made him pretend. I used to think I would be Ezrah’s wife.
One day we walked further than we’d ever been before. I kept saying that we should turn around, that we were going to get lost, that we should turn around now, when suddenly Ezrah bolted away from me, laughing, ‘I’m leaving this place! See you, Mir! I’m leaving!’
I was glued to that spot full of mushrooms and leaves. I was scared that he would get lost, that I would get lost, both of us lost in the forest forever. What were my mom and his mom going to do? Flies landed on my shoulders and I swatted them off, going jerky.
I looked down at my feet and started shuffling backward. I went so slowly because I was hoping that Ezrah would come running back toward me. I kept turning my head in case he jumped out behind me. Black rubber branches touched the sides of my face. I realized that my whole body was moving in slow motion because I was waiting for something around me to change.
When I finally made it back to my house, our mothers were stretched out in the sun and Ezrah was there. I couldn’t believe it. His arms were draped around his mother’s shoulders. He was smiling at me with his top row of teeth. I thought he was saying: ‘See, Mir? You see? I know how to get home without you.’
My mother gave me a hug and said, ‘Beautiful flowers.’ But the stems of the buttercups were squashed in my grip, their tiny heads all looking down, limp.
Ezrah stayed over at our house that night. We slept together on the bed in the den. My stomach hurt. I was still so mad about how he took off on me. I was pretending to sleep when Ezrah snuck out of our bed and got the flashlight from the kitchen. Then he pulled the covers over our heads and shone the light upward.
‘This is our new house,’ he said, matter-of-factly. ‘We’ll stay up all night like this.’
Ezrah had grabbed my comic book from the floor and was shoving it in my face. I shrugged and sat up with him. After a few stories, though, I started complaining like I always did about Archie that two girls like Betty and Veronica would never fight so hard over the same guy. Two girls hardly ever want to kiss the same guy.
‘Two guys want to kiss one girl,’ Ezrah said. ‘So what does it matter if two girls want to kiss the same guy?’
‘It’s not the same thing,’ I told him. ‘These girls are supposed to be in Grade 9 but look at their tits! No girl in Grade 9 would have tits like this!’
Ezrah snatched my comic book and wrecked our tent. He got on top of me and wrestled my arms over my head.
‘What do you know about Grade 9 tits?’
‘Stop it! Get off!’ I yelled, laughing.
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Ezrah put his hand over my mouth. ‘They’ll hear us! Shut up!’
His hand smelled salty and I stopped squirming.
‘Tell me you’re sorry,’ he said.
‘Fine,’ I said through his hand.
‘Tell me. Then I’ll get off you.’
