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I, of course, was dressed in a pink floral skirt with a white, button-up blouse. Not
the type of outfit I'd wear to school, but for family dinner, I was expected to dress a little nicer than normal. My father usually wore whatever he wore to work that day – usually a shirt and tie.
“Luke, would you care to say grace?” my mom asked, shooting him a look of pure death that was camouflaged by a saccharine sweet smile, of course.
“I'd rather not,” my brother said. “I'm sure Maya would be more than willing though.”
It was my father, the one who normally didn't like confrontation, who started the dinnertime prayer. I bowed my head, but caught myself staring over at Reese with wide eyes. He pretended to bow his head, but while everybody had their heads lowered, he looked around our dining room, his eyes almost as wide as mine, but probably for different reasons.
I was staring because Reese was actually pretty hot. My dorky brother usually had dorky-looking friends, but this time, his friend wasn't so bad on the eyes. So, sue me. I was a warm-blooded high school girl who didn't get much attention from boys because I was shy and often kept my face hidden by a book. But there was an older guy, someone with a little more experience behind him than the stupid boys in my high school class. I stared until Reese caught me staring. I quickly looked away, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
My father ended the prayer and we all started eating. I kept my eyes lowered and tried hard not to get caught staring again. I was, after all, a dorky high school girl and he was a cooler, older guy who worked at a club. There was no way, in a million years, my brother's best friend was going to look twice at me.
But a girl could dream, couldn't she?
“Dude, where did you get the money for that?” my brother asked.
We were hanging out in the living room, watching television as I pretended to study, and my brother was on the phone – talking to Reese most likely.
“I'm so jealous, dude,” he said, shaking his head.
“Could you please be quiet –” I started to ask him, but it was my mom who beat me to it.
“Please don't make us listen to your conversations, Luke,” she said. “Take it to your room.”
“Nah, it's fine,” Luke said. “He's coming over anyway.”
“Who is?” I asked, already knowing the answer and feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.
“Reese, Duh. He just bought a killer new sound system for his car and wants to show it off,” he said.
“Where does he get the money for stuff like that?” my mom asked.
It was a question that had occurred to me, but one I never really pursued because it really didn't matter all that much to me. But I had thought about it briefly given that my brother worked at the same club and couldn't even afford his own toilet paper – he made our parents buy it for him.
“I dun no. Side jobs and stuff,” Luke said, not meeting our gaze. “What's it matters to you? At least he's making a living, right?”
“Unlike someone we know,” I muttered under my breath.
“You're just jealous and you have a massive crush, Maya,” Luke said. I turned bright red. “But keep dreaming. There's no way he'd ever be into a nerdy little high schooler like you.”
“I don't have a crush,” I lied, looking down at my textbook as if mitochondria and nuclei were the most interesting subjects on the planet. “I would never have a crush on one of your loser friends, Luke.”
“Ha. Yeah, right. We both see the way you gawk at him every time he comes over,” he sneered. “You're not fooling anyone.”
“Enough!” My mom shouted, putting her hands up between us. “Stop it already. Just stop arguing. I'm trying to watch my movie.”
I glared at Luke and he smirked at me. He knew he was right. And even worse, I knew he was right. He knew I had a crush on Reese, and no matter what I said, there was no denying it. And now that Reese knew, well, that would make running into him even more awkward than it already was.
I picked up my textbook, slammed it shut and walked toward my room. The tears were fresh in my eyes and stung, but I couldn't cry in front of Luke. I couldn't give my obnoxious brother anymore reason to smirk or laugh at me than he already had.
Only a few more weeks until graduation, then I was off to college, I reminded myself. I'd be going to North-western, so not terribly far – but far enough that I would be able to avoid my brother and his friend. I'd meet other boys at college and forget that Reese even existed, I was sure of it. I was going to meet more worthy boys, not boys who worked at nightclubs and likely sold drugs on the side to live an expensive lifestyle that he otherwise shouldn't have been able to afford.
It was hard being eighteen and a virgin still, but I'd survive. One day, I'd find the right boy and we'd have sex and it would be magical. Reese would be a distant, shameful memory. And sooner or later, he'd wise up and drop my brother, the wannabe gangster. Then I would be the one laughing at Luke.
But until then, I'd hide away in my room, do what I needed to do to get ready for college, and escape from it all. I'd watch from my window as the two of them played basketball, laughing to myself as Reese obliterated my brother every time. Luke sucked at basketball – most sports, really. He only played so he could look cool next to his new friend from the city. The basketball hoop attached to our garage was just beneath my window, so sometimes they'd catch me watching. Luke would flip me off, Reese would roll his eyes and pretend I wasn't there.
But I could always find some measure of escape in my room. And by escaping, I, of course, meant masturbating, because God knew, I was still very much a young, warm blooded woman with needs and desires that needed to be met.
