Karissa

Sometimes You Just Need to Talk About Something, Y'Know....

"Artie, what happened to Jesse, and why is it bad?" I demanded from my older brother after school, even though a crowd surrounded him and he'd always said I wasn't allowed to speak to him in public like this. His friends passed around glances to each other and hooted, lapsing into a language I couldn't yet speak.

"Guys, he's only a third-grader - just a kid."

"So's Jesse," smirked Artie's best friend and football teammate, elbowing his cheerleader match in the side and slipping his hand underneath the hem of her shirt, tickling her belly until she squealed and sprinted off in her high shoes. Everything about Artie's face seemed to get thinner.

"Don't compare them. You think my brother's got anything in common with that skinny little freak? McCutcheon's smart...right, bro? Yeah, and he learned it all from me."

"Jesse, Artie," I reminded him (sometimes Artie needed that; he wasn't as intelligent as he always claimed).

"We'll talk about it at home."

" Darren," Jesse screamed, voice aching with longing and a new pain as he caught his best male friend in a glance, darting across the parking lot at a fast run - an effect of Artie's and my combined presence.

"Oh, it's awful," he confided breathlessly to the fidgeting, gangly blonde.  " Nobody understands, I mean really understands, except for the adults, and they all give me simpering pity looks, so the kids know something's up, and so everyone avoids me like I've got something really gross and contagious, and Mr. Hernizen...oh, you don't even want to know. You probably couldn't even guess."  The look of horror shared between them at Jesse's mentioning the elementary school psychologist - someone Darren no longer had to worry about -  made Artie burst out in a low, rumbling snicker.

"Pathetic losers," he said offhandedly, not caring who heard. It was sort of an automatic response.

"I feel like everyone hates me," Jesse continued, trying not to whine (his mother hated whining, and even though she wasn't there, he figured she'd still know somehow) though his voice was jerky with tears he was holding in. He turned those glossy eyes on Darren, hoping.

"But  you don't hate me, right? You get it?"

"I thinkI get it," Darren answered, but his tone of voice - unsure - just made Artie and his friends laugh.

"So I guess that means they're not...."  One of the guys made a motion with his hands and winked, but Artie just shrugged.

" Darren seems like the type to cluelessly fool around. I mean, someone has to get the tights off of Ballerina Boy, and how are we supposed to know what goes on behind the curtains at those summer theater camps?"  Yes, Artie was a regular comedic genius, especially on this topic. I hoped he'd explain it all to me soon. Luckily, my parents wouldn't be back until later that night....

So, he sat me down and explained everything... the mechanics of everything, especially.

" Ew." I made a face, uncomprehending why anyone would want to do this with a girl (we hadn't gotten to the Jesse part yet. Artie said that this was most important.) I knew Artie had already done it a couple of times, but I couldn't get why. It was just so...yuck.