Chapter Text
I lived on an archetypal tree lined street, with trees that soared so large that they intertwined with the ones on the other side and blanketed the blue sky. On the sleepy edge of the city, nestled between a grove of towering oaks and maples, sat a neighborhood that looked like it had been plucked directly from Gilmore Girls. Wide streets curved gently past mellow homes, each one framed with bright flowerbeds and trimmed lawns, guarded by white picket fences that gleamed damply from the sprinklers' tears.
Each and every house had its own eccentric look, most old and outdated just like the families who’d lived there for years. The neighborhood was quiet, a mundane ordeal within another tedious sphere and so on, an American Beauty repetitive. And the trees— because of their enormity— every fall the kids would rake up piles of leaves at the bottom. Then, they’d crawl up until they got as high as they could and jump.
Fall happened to be the season I met Mary, and fall will be the season I lose her.
The Cowan’s moved in across from my house while I was in my dad’s old hick work truck, dashing down the highway with a pitiable fractured wrist. I got a text from my best friend Benjamin Nolen, who happened to be loitering on my porch when the U-Haul strolled in.
So far nothing enthralling, he said. Just the loud heavy breaths of the hefty movers hauling in old granny furniture. That is until she emerged from the back of the truck, in hand a large box labeled MARY.
. . .
I got the well deserved heat for causing the kids to be forbidden from jumping off their trees by their parents, who watched me plummet foolishly in an attempt to impress Neely.
Neely Merick had been the object of my fantasies since the first grade. I know this because she reminds me of my mother, and I’ve always thought Adina to be the most accomplished woman in the world. She stays home while my dad works. I’m not exactly confident in what she’s doing most of the time, though I assume she cleans and cooks and does what mothers are meant to do. I think I also like Neely because I don’t want to fuck her, and I too, don’t want to fuck my mother. See, these things correlate wonderfully yet twistedly. Neely has motherly qualities, I’ve watched her intensely at play. She sews, works in the garden during spring, helps her mother with dinner and takes care of her baby brothers and sisters, just how my mother would. Mothers mend, typically due to their nature to nurture. I’d never met a woman who lacked this.
So it frightened me when I met Mary because she did not have any intent to be a wife. She did not want to mend, she did not want to be a mother. It was disturbing. So why did I want to fuck her?
During the first week since her arrival I watched her from afar. Mary was an animal caged. She explored her environment cautiously and spread through the neighborhood like sticky paste, leaving her slick on everyone. Terrance Madison was the first.
He gathered all of us up in my front yard and we eyed the Cowan's house, creating scenarios in which were most immoral. Mary exited out of the front door, twirling her skirt around her finger as she regarded us with an anticipated gaze.
“Dude, that girl is fucking perverted.” Madison started.
He continued after we watched her recede on her bike down the street. “I took the time out of my day to pay the Cowan’s a visit after my parents insisted I bring them a welcoming basket. She was home alone and took the basket, then invited me inside.”
We leaned forward in anticipation. “Then what?”
“We had small talk. It was chill for a minute until she took my hand and asked me to feel her up. And of course I did.” Madison chuckled. “I stuck my hand down her pants and when I was about to finger her she said, no, just rub my clit.”
Our virgin ears couldn’t believe it.
Terrance Madison was the only one of us to lose his virginity. As pathetic as it was, we were all waiting for marriage. Madison didn’t wanna wait, he said his balls were turning blue. Now they were turning purple, twitching to be balls deep in Mary Cowan.
Benny’s glistening eyes widened. “What happened after that?”
“She thanked me- for the basket and the finger action. Then I left.” He laughed at our eager expressions, punching me in the shoulder. “Dude, you don’t have to lose your virginity to get a blowjob or something.”
I grimaced. “Or something.”
A blowjob. I’d never seen it done, nor had I ever thought about it then. I imagined it’d typically be the act of a girl's lips, like when she mouths a lollipop during Mr. Medina’s lectures or swirls her tongue around a popsicle during a hot summer night. An unknowing tent began to grow in my jeans.
It didn’t go away for the entirety of the day.
. . .
Empty was the neighborhood after dark, the street lights flickering on and casting our houses in a dim glare. And then, empty was the neighborhood save for Mary Cowan flimsily tumbling out of her house to let her cat, Serafina, roam around. I ignored her and left the window, turning around to watch my aunt Lauren bounce my cousin Lee on her knee, breastfeeding him. She’d been visiting frequently ever since her descent into motherhood began, needing all of the sustenance she could get while her marine husband traveled.
Adina was in the kitchen preparing meatloaf, a house staple. She always wore the same cotton apron and had her hair done in the same claw clip that made the brown strands twirl and frame her face in a whimsical way. I lingered in the doorway, leaning against the frame as I watched. She could already tell it was me— no one else bothered her while she was cooking like I did. I suppose I just liked to watch her be a woman.
“What is it, son?” Said Adina in a sing-songy voice, her tone smooth and slow like honey.
“Was I breastfed as a baby?”
She giggled, palming the beef with her gloved hands. “Of course you were, silly. I never liked those containers of powdery mess. Doesn’t seem very natural.”
Pleased, I left her alone.
For a moment I lingered about the house, entertaining myself with mindless thoughts about babies and breastmilk and wifery. A weird unfamiliar feeling arose in my body, my eyes drawn to the now riveting curtain that seemed to be casting bright fluorescent colors— pink, orange, turquoise. I inched further towards it, peeking through the silk. Mary, still lingering outside, cigarette firm between her lips as she wore many colors, her makeup radiant and playful.
She didn’t notice my peering but swayed her hips, rhythmically fingering the air as she moved beguilingly. Her cat rubbed itself against her leg and she bent over to pick it up, flashing me her pink cotton undergarments. Mary pirouetted along the porch with the fluffy white feline in her arms, eyes fluttering shut and her dress of many hues flowing in the staggering breath of the breeze. I still couldn’t quite fathom the girl and why she was so free, what made her disinclined to being bound. Didn’t every girl want to be kept? Held tight in a heart shaped locket? My brain began to hurt.
I shut the curtain and sat stiffly, ignoring the noise penetrating my head. Lauren had pulled her blouse back over her chest and set Lee aside, who looked happy and full of milk. I was jealous and empty.
The front door swung open, my father huffing as he entered.
“Good evening, Lauren. Son, Nephew.” He hung his hat on the rack, then kicked off his shoes. “Wife?”
Adina came floating in with a smile plastered on her face. “I’m here, Silas.” She pecked his cheek. “How was work, darling?”
“Same as yesterday, and the day before, and for many days after today.”
Her eyes rolled. “I am inclined to ask. I’m making a meat loaf. Go on and shower, dinner should be done in just a moment.”
He nodded, disregarded me, and stomped upstairs. It was going to be a long night, like every other night, and last night, and for many nights after today. Lauren visited more than usual, I suppose motherhood is lonely when the father isn’t around so much, and my father is quite vexed by her presence along with the wailing baby. I leaned over and picked up Lee, smiling at his tiny little face. I couldn’t wait until I had one of my own. I'd wondered if its face would resemble mine, a figment of my character completely, or maybe more so it’s mother’s face. Hopefully mine. Neely isn’t that flattering when you gawk at her for too long. I then pictured Mary, her narrowed eyes and beautifully pissed face on a small little precious head. I only felt conflicted.
Mary was even more enigmatic at school. She held the disposition of a jarring woman, nimble in her movements; agile even. I distasted her very much, and within minutes she was the entity of everyone's holy grail.
I ambled through the corridors wearing whatever my mother washed for me the night before— a simple plaid sweater— and found my locker beside Benny. He arrived not long after I did, waving a pack of condoms in my face. Why was everyone so obsessed with adultery?
“They were handing these out near the nurses office.” Benny squinted his eyes at them. “Hey, some of these are flavored.”
I grimaced. “Put those away. Like you’re getting any.”
“You never know. I hear the Cowan girl just gives it out for free.”
That was only half true. The two other guys who happened to make an encounter with her titillating vices all said they just felt her up, then she’d touch them, and so on. Mindless petting.
“Why do you think she does it?” Asked Benny.
“She’s disturbed or something.” The two of us began down the hall once the bell rang. “Perhaps she’s bored.”
He tilted his head. “When you’re bored you jack off or see what’s on TV.”
A heat in my cheeks, I blushed furiously. I’d never jacked off before. “She’s a girl, girls don’t do that.”
“Yeah, well I have a feeling she isn’t just a girl.”
Mr. Medina was our first period physics teacher and among other things, admired by the girls. He had an uncanny resemblance to a young James Spader and twirled his pencil between his fingers in swift movements as if it made him cooler. He always regarded us with a friendly nod and toothy grin, his tie was never on right. He was divorced.
I sat beside Neely. I still didn’t want to fuck her.
She wore a buttoned up blouse, her hair pulled tight in a ponytail and had on that long blue skirt I liked. It proceeded past her knees.
“Good morning, Silvanus.” Neely grinned in my direction.
“Hello, Neely.”
“I brought you something.” The girl leaned over to rummage through her backpack and retrieved a small container. “It’s my mom’s homemade pot pie.”
Cheesing from ear to ear I took it from her. Upon removing the lid I could just smell the chicken and the veggies and the crust, my favorite part.
Neely suppressed a giggle at my face. “My mom and I made it together last night. I added another little something.”
Licking my lips I leaned forward. “What is it?”
“Love.” Emerging from her backpack was a pink sharpie. She gently held my left wrist and signed my cast.
“Alright, class,” Mr. Medina called. “Settle down and take a seat please. Mary! Late again, I see.”
The heads of everyone turned to spot Mary, rushing inside, unkempt and uncaring. She took the nearest seat and sighed heavily, sinking in her chair. I examined her outfit with a peculiar regard; dark denim shorts that hugged her rear in a way that caused my eyes to linger for a minute too long, then a top that was cropped a little bit above the belly button. On her wrist, a watch and a beaded bracelet. She just looked touched all over. I hated it.
Mr. Medina hardly discerned her outfit and continued. “Okay, kids,” He picked up a marker and wrote insubstantially along the board. “Today’s lesson topic; thermal expansion. Can anyone tell me what a thermal expansion is— or what you think it may be.” The girls giggled when he fumbled over his words. They thought it was so cute.
Neely raised her hand, but Mr. Medina caught the waifish hand of another. “Yes, Mary?”
Her voice stripped me of any dignity as it fell down my back in an eerie chill, a cascading curse undressing me slowly.
“A thermal expansion is a kind of thing that occurs when a material goes through a change in temperature and its dimensions are different.” She shrugged. “Or something.”
Mr. Medina blinked, Neely was fuming, I was hard.
“Well,” he laughed, adjusting his frail tie. “Very good, Mary. To elaborate on that, thermal expansion is the change in size or volume of a material as a result of a change in temperature. This occurs because atoms and molecules are constantly moving and vibrating, and when a material is heated, they move and vibrate faster, which leads to an increase in the distance between the atoms or molecules. This increase in distance results in an expansion of material, either in length, area, or volume.”
Suddenly it felt very hot in the room.
“By the end of this week we will be able to explain the concept of thermal expansion and its causes, calculate the change in length, area, or volume of a material due to thermal expansion, and apply the concept to real-world scenarios, such as the design of bridges and other structures or what not.”
Before I knew it the bell rang and Madison was lifting me out of my seat. “Gee, who knew harlots were smart?”
. . .
My brain couldn’t quite comprehend that this would be the last year I’d ever have to sit inside of another grimy yellow bus again. It felt like a dream, of course, but then I’d be off into the real world, which meant waking up and living my future. I always sat in the same spot, no one sat beside me. The cushion probably memorized the shape of my ass by now. Kids piled on, some I knew, some I wished I didn’t, and the girl who I prayed would go away.
Mary noticed me and sat down, bumping her shoulder against mine. “Hi, neighbor.” Up close she looked less bare.
“Hey,” I said, the bus growling underneath us as it drove off.
She looked down at my phone, snatching one of my earphones. “What are you listening to?” I watched her place it inside her ear, eyes fluttering closed.
“It’s um— Almost Fantasy.” She wasn’t listening, too immersed to be bothered with my words.
The reality I was caught between of which I am constantly conflicted, also within the context of the opposite sex and immorality. I couldn’t seem to register why these things exist to punish you. If I was not allowed to feel good then why was it there then, seeking to have flesh? It’s like a stray kitten I am forbidden to feed because then it will follow me home. If I gave into the pleasure then it would for sure come back wanting more and more and more until I am left with the burden of being. I felt so incredibly dazed and confused.
The bus came to a halt and parked on my side of the street. “Well, this is our stop.” Mary mumbled, then returned my earbud.
I stood in front of my house, Mary crossed the street and turned to wink at me before disappearing behind the door.