The two boys waited with anticipation all day! Waited in the Orange Grove to meet her. Thirteen is hard on a boy. Girls mature more rapidly and in many cultures are engaged or married by that age. Most thirteen year old girls look much the same five or even ten years later. Not so with boys.
Boys are still boys at thirteen. Even if they are able to reproduce anatomically, they look and act much the same as other mammalian species of juvenile males. Circling the perimeter of their tribe chaotically in anticipation, but unable to make their point due to larger more developed experienced males who keep them at bay. After gaining the height, muscle, weight, and body hair declaring their readiness, they begin to attract the desired female attention.
Many girls at thirteen are more aware and attracted to older boys in their late teens or early twenties. That’s why there are laws about that. Of course this can be both morally and legally upsetting to the parents of younger girls – not to mention the wont of the reciprocal age group of teenage boys. Legal age of consent differs in the various states – between 14 and 18. Some differentiate between male and female with females being on the younger side.
Kristie liked to flirt with all the boys, but this immature duo was particularly fun! They liked to talk bawdy with her and she didn’t mind this harmless flirtation one bit, but what the boys didn’t know is that she wouldn’t give them the time of day.
She would flirt with them, talk provocatively, get their hopes up, and then let them fall flat. It was a game to her. It was fun! It gave her pleasure to tantalize them.
They brought a porno booklet to school for her to read. She read it hurriedly at the break in the girls’ restroom. It was only about thirty pages. It was full of tales about pirates kidnapping young wenches and doing it to them with a broom stick and other sordid scenes.
“What did you think? What did you think?” They both asked her practically hyperventilating as the bell rang just in time for Spanish Lab. She sat down at her desk and plugged herself into the oral practice slated for the day. “Hola Paco. Que Tal?”
Instead of the expected response, she responded in a low soft purring voice with, “Ummm, Sex…” The two boys heard her through their headphones. So did the rest of the class… y El Profesor.
“Como?” The Instructor’s voice said into her earphones as he shot her a warning glance.
“Muy bien. Y tu?” She gave the appropriate response.
After class the boys came up to her, “We’ll meet you in the Orange Grove. OK, Huh? OK? The Orange Grove. OK? We’ll wait for you. OK?”
No definite time was set because she wasn’t sure when she could get out. She said, “OK, OK.” But she didn’t mean it. She never gave it a second thought.
After waiting in the Orange Grove all day, the boys went home dejectedly. On Monday morning, they approached her with the question, “Why didn’t you come? Why didn’t you come? We waited all day….”
She just shrugged them off. What did they think was gonna happen anyway? Really? Anything? Anything! The answer was anything. They were hoping for anything.
That afternoon standing at the flag pole waiting for the bus, the boys hung together watching her as her high school boyfriend pulled up in his custom purple and white ’56 Chevy. She got into the car, scooted up close to her boyfriend, smiled and waved to the dejected boys. Anything? They were hoping for anything. They didn’t smile or wave back, but secretly they were each quietly happy… there was hope.
(First published 7/20/11)
