Getting It (14 page)

Carlos turned to Roxy. He tried to give her what he thought was a meaningful look.

“Yeah?” she said, still watching the TV.

“Um …” He took a deep breath, his throat tightening over it, and whispered, “Can I kiss you?”

He held his breath, expecting the worst.

“Wait till the commercial,” Roxy replied. “I want to see the ending.”

Carlos turned back to the TV, amazed. Roxy had neither laughed nor screamed at him. So, what would happen once the commercial came? Was she expecting a mouth-kiss? He should have clarified that.

The program ended and Roxy turned to Carlos. “Okay.” Her eyebrows lifted expectantly, her lips parted slightly, and to Carlos's immense relief, it was obvious what kind of kiss she wanted.

Keeping his eyes open so as not to screw up, he leaned toward her. His lips gently came to rest on hers, and a thousand microscopic nerve endings quivered. Tasting her sweetness, his soul quaked too. He let his eyes close and lost himself in time, wishing their kiss could last forever.

A moment later, he came back with a jolt. How much time had elapsed? He didn't want to seem greedy Quickly, he pulled away.

“Why are you stopping?” Roxy whispered. “Don't stop!”

“Sorry.” Carlos returned his face to hers, more confident now, feeling like he was getting the hang of it. And when she tapped her tongue against his, it seemed like the most natural thing on earth.

As their lips pressed and parted, their breaths came harder, chests rising and falling. And Carlos became keenly aware of Roxy's breasts squishing against him. He tried to pull away, fearing she might think he was trying to cop a feel. But the breasts seemed to chase after him.

Suddenly, Roxy pulled her mouth away and gasped, “Do you want to see them?”

Carlos blinked, a little dazed. This was too much like a scene from his fantasies to be true. So he simply said, “Um, okay.”

R
OXY LEANED BACK
on the couch, her boobs waiting beneath the scoop-neck T-shirt.

Except … Carlos wasn't exactly sure how to proceed. Even though his buds and he had spent endless hours extolling the marvels of breasts, they'd never discussed the specifics of precisely what to do if a girl willingly volunteered them.

As if understanding Carlos's plight, Roxy took hold of his hand.

She rested his quivering palm on her T-shirt and he rocketed into ecstasy. Every nerve of each fingertip leaped with joy as he gently, uncertainly stroked. He hadn't expected the breast to feel so supple and yet firm.

Roxy closed her eyes, smiling peacefully until, after a while, she lowered her voice as if telling a secret: “You can touch the other one too, you know.”

“Um, sorry.” Carlos immediately shifted his hand. He hadn't meant to snub the other boob. Determined not to repeat his blunder, he now alternated, giving each equal time.

Abruptly, Roxy's cell phone rang. Carlos jumped with a start, yanking his hand away from her chest.

“Ugh!” Roxy groaned, grabbing the phone. She glanced at the caller ID and answered, “Did you tell him? What did he say?”

While pressing the phone to her ear, Roxy reached for Carlos's hand and laid it on top of her breasts again.

Who is she talking to?
Carlos wondered.

“Don't worry about that,” she spoke into the phone. “Oral is oral, it's not sex. It's like kissing—except you're kissing something else.”

She darted a devilish glance at Carlos and said to whomever she was talking, “Listen, I've got to go. I'll call you later and tell you about it, okay?”

What exactly will you tell them later?
Carlos wondered as Roxy hung up. He wanted to ask, except she suddenly took hold of his wrist and slid his hand underneath her shirt.

Shit, she's bra-less!
As his fingertips touched her naked skin, his heart slammed against his chest. He was touching Roxy Rodriguez's breasts—skin on skin. Had anyone known greater joy? He wanted to borrow the phone and call his own friends.

Except, he would like to see the breasts first. Fingers quavering, he nudged Roxy's T-shirt up. She good-naturedly aided him along, guiding him like an angel with perky breasts.

“Kiss them,” she whispered.

Carlos gazed up. “Huh?”

“Kiss them.”

Carlos gulped, slightly terrified. But how could he refuse? Leaning forward, he gently pressed his lips onto her breast. Roxy gave a soft moan.

Carlos glanced up to make sure he hadn't hurt her. But her face displayed no sign of pain. With increasing agility, he planted a tender kiss on her other breast.

Roxy squirmed and moaned, her flat, smooth stomach arching beneath him.

Feeling nearly like a pro now, Carlos began moving his mouth slowly from one breast to another, lightly brushing his lips across the pliant skin till Roxy suddenly gasped.

“Are you okay?” Carlos quickly pulled away.

In response, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and head, pressing his face so tight against her breasts that he could hardly breathe. But he didn't mind. He'd gladly have given up breathing for the rest of his life.

U
NFORTUNATELY, A FEW
minutes later Roxy pulled her T-shirt down over her boobs, closing up shop. “That's enough. My mom will be home soon.”

Carlos slumped back on the sofa, dazed.

“Hey!” Roxy giggled, shaking his shoulder. “What are you doing? Get up!”

“Huh?” Carlos rubbed his eyes, feeling as though he were waking from a dream.

“Come on!” Roxy stood up, tugging on his arm. “You've got to go. It's almost midnight. I don't want to get in trouble.”

“Okay.” Carlos stumbled to his feet, oblivious to the tent in his pants—till Roxy burst into laughter, exclaiming, “Boys!”

Carlos blushed, wishing he could hide beneath the couch, but Roxy was already hustling him across the room.

At the door, he politely said, “Thanks,” like Sal had taught him.

Roxy grinned, tracing a finger gently across his cheek, and told him, “You're funny”

Carlos hadn't meant to be funny. As he practically soared toward home, bounding over curbs and leaping over fire hydrants, his entire body hummed with energy. This had been the best evening of his life.

But as he glanced up toward the living room window of his apartment, he abruptly slammed to a halt. Why was the light on?

Fearing the worst, he tiptoed up the staircase. As he fished out his keys, they fell from his trembling hands and jingled to the floor.

Carlos stooped to retrieve them. The front door opened. A pair of pink slippers appeared. Carlos gazed up. Above him towered his ma, her arms crossed, her dark eyes blazing. “Where were you?”

“Um …” Carlos gathered himself up. He once again stood much taller than his ma, and slinked past her and Raúl into the living room, wondering what excuse he could give. “I left a note. Didn't you see it?”

His ma gave him a sharp look. “It said you were at Sal's. But Sal phoned and said you weren't with him.”

Carlos glanced down at the carpet. Why had Sal phoned, tonight of all nights?

“Tell me the truth!” his ma demanded. “You're an hour past your curfew.”

Carlos clutched the keys in his hand. “Um, I started to go to Sal's, but then I went to another friend's instead. That's all.”

“What
friend?” his ma persisted.

“Um … a new friend.”

“Carlos, I want to know who your friends are. What's his name?”

Carlos balled his fist around the keys, shoving them into his pocket. “Um, it's a girl.”

“A
girl?”
His ma's voice rose with surprise. “What were you doing with a girl?”

Inside Carlos's brain, Roxy's boobs magically appeared. “Nothing. We weren't doing anything.”

“You were doing
something,”
his ma insisted, pushing the hair from her face.

Her self-righteous tone ticked him off. “What do you
think
we were doing?”

“Maybe,” Raúl intervened, “you two should talk this out tomorrow—when you're both calmer?”

Carlos and his ma both glared at him. Then she whirled back toward Carlos, stabbing her finger in the air. “You'd better not get any
girl in trouble! You're not a child anymore. Now go to your room!”

You sound ridiculous,
he thought. Maybe she thought so too, because she clutched her robe tightly around herself and marched into her own room.

Raúl gave Carlos an odd, conspiring look and patted him on the shoulder. “You should get some sleep.”

Carlos was left standing on his own, feeling strangely grown-up and a little nervous. Even though his ma had scolded him like a kid, she'd acknowledged he wasn't one.
Would
he accidentally get Roxy in trouble?

Inside his room, he peeled off his clothes, feeling slightly out of control: for lying to his ma, for sneaking off, for doing the stuff he'd done with Roxy. And yet, as he climbed into bed and recalled their kisses, warm feelings flowed over him again.

He could hardly wait to tell his friends. Maybe now they'd shut up about his being gay. Except … what if Roxy found out he was blabbing about what they'd done?

On the other hand, it had sounded like she talked with her cell-phone friend about what they did with boys. Besides, how could Carlos
not
tell his friends about tonight? He could barely stop himself from going to the window and shouting to the entire world:
Roxy Rodriguez and I made out!

N
EXT MORNING,
C
ARLOS'S
ma stared coldly at him, only thawing to say, “We'll talk this evening.”

Raúl usually headed to his job at dawn, but today he waited for Carlos to prepare his backpack and told him, “I'll give you a ride to school.”

Carlos sensed all this had to do with the events of the previous night.

“So …” Raúl pulled the truck out of the driveway. “Did your dad ever talk to you about girls?”

“Yeah,” Carlos mumbled, squirming to adjust his seat belt.

“That's good.” Raúl forced a tight-lipped smile. “So … he talked to you about condoms? About being careful not to get a girl pregnant?”

Actually, even though his pa constantly asked Carlos about the girls, he'd never talked to him about
that
stuff. Perhaps someone should've talked to his pa about it; then maybe he wouldn't have gotten Lupita pregnant. Carlos had mostly learned stuff from his friends.

“I already know all that,” he grumbled to Raúl.

“Well…” Raúl stopped for a red light. “I told your mom I'll pick you up some condoms. She thinks you're too young, but I told her you need to protect yourself. There are a lot of new diseases out there.”

Carlos stared out the window at the road ahead.

“Was the girl last night a girlfriend?” Raúl asked.

Carlos shifted in the truck seat. Had last night made Roxy his girlfriend? “I'm not sure,” he told Raúl.

“Well, just remember …” Raúl tapped Carlos's head. “Think with your big head, not your little head.” He jutted his chin toward Carlos's crotch. Carlos glanced away, embarrassed.

All during morning classes, he could barely concentrate. His mind swirled with images of boobs, worries about his ma, and his muddle about Roxy. He looked for her between classes, but didn't find her, and when he got to the lunchroom, she already sat chatting with her friends. Was she telling them about
him?

He took his usual lunch seat, hoping she'd glance over. But she seemed almost to be ignoring him. Was she mad at him?

“Hey, how come you weren't on the bus this morning?” Toro asked.

“Huh? Um, I got a ride.”

Playboy followed Carlos's gaze to Roxy. “You still chasing that? Give it up. She's too fine for a
pendejo
like you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Suddenly, Carlos
had
to tell his friends. “Well, guess what,
pendejo?
She had me over last night.”

Pulga put down his French fry. “Are you serious?”

“To her house?” Toro set down his burger.

Carlos nodded proudly. “Her mom wasn't home.”

The group eyed him skeptically. “How far did you get?” Playboy asked.

Carlos shook his head. “That's personal.”

Playboy sneered. “I guess that means you got
nada.”

“False alarm!” Pulga picked up his French fry again.

Carlos gritted his teeth, straining not to say more. But his buds' smart-ass attitudes irritated him. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to offer them a little something. “We made out.”

“You and Roxy?” Toro raised his Coke to toast him. “Way to go, dudeness.”

“Wow.” Pulga nodded, impressed. “First base.”

Carlos gave a modest shrug, although inside he felt elated. Finally, he'd gotten a little recognition.

“What else?” Playboy prodded. “Did she let you feel her boobs?”

Carlos clenched his jaw, determined not to be a blabbermouth. But the attention felt too good. “Um, yeah.”

“Holy shit!” Pulga exclaimed.

Even Playboy dropped his jaw. “How'd you get her to do that, man?”

“I don't know. She just asked me to.”

“No wonder she's ignoring you.” Playboy gave a smirk.

Carlos sat up. “What do you mean?”

“The hookup rules.” Playboy leaned back with an air of haughtiness. “Instead of admitting you're a slut, you pretend it didn't happen.”

“But it
did
happen.”

“And if you want more,” Pulga said calmly “you'll pretend it
didn't
happen.”

Carlos didn't get it. “But what if we're dating?”

“Dude!” Playboy sighed patiently. “She had you over when her mom wasn't home. That's not a date. That's a hookup.”