No Take Backs

by Otis Hanby

  “Me either,” she says, biting her lower lip. I laugh. She laughs too when she realizes what she said.

  “You know I’ve never been in love before. Is this love? Is this what love feels like?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. Let’s just let it be what it is. If it’s love, there will be no denying it.”

  “I can live with that.”

  I kiss her again. There’s a window paned door connecting her room to the living area on the other side, covered with a lace curtain. Someone taps on the glass toward the bottom of the door. My head pops out from underneath the covers. Erica moves the curtain a little. Marcy and Rodney are looking through the glass, grinning.

  “Are you guys dead in there?” Rodney asks.

  Marcy giggles. Erica covers the window with the curtain and pulls the blanket back over our heads. I roll on top of Erica, push myself up, and look down at her. I peer into her eyes, trying to look deep into her. I see the same sense of amazement and comfort staring back at me. I scan her face. Her lips are so perfect. Her auburn hair is tangled, but smells freshly washed. I could stay like this forever, but we both know we should get out of bed and join the others. I kiss her again and pull back. She smiles.

  “I guess we should get up,” I say, not really wanting to.

  “Yeah, they might get mad at us if we stayed in here forever. I need to go to the store anyway and get some smokes.”

  We get up with the covers tangled around us. I pull my shirt and jeans on and watch Erica as she gets dressed. She puts on her bra and asks me to connect the strap in the back. I kiss the back of her neck as I fasten the clasp. My nose is tickled again by her short hair. I feel her smile as I hug her from behind, my cheek against hers. She pulls her t-shirt and leather jacket on, and I tie my tennis shoes. We walk out of the room hand in hand.

  Rodney, Marcy, and Byron are sitting on the couches watching television.

  “Do y’all want to walk to the store with us?” Erica asks.

  “Yeah, let’s get out of here for a while,” Rodney says.

  We walk out of the apartment, down the stairs, and through a small city park next to the apartment complex. It’s chilly and overcast. I’m glad to have a thermal shirt on underneath my t-shirt, but it isn’t really keeping me warm enough, so I pull Erica close. I will never tire of smelling her mixture of perfume and leather. The sky looks as if it might snow, but it seems too early for that. We approach the store from the back. The atmosphere seems a little tense. This is Dallas, after all, but I feel that we’ll be safe since there’s a group of us. I spot the interstate as we come around to the front of the store and forgotten how much in the city we are. We walk into the store, and Erica grabs her pack of smokes. She gives her money to the absent-looking cashier, and we start back towards her apartment.

  “My mom will probably be getting home soon,” Erica says, looking at me, a little sad. I look away into the empty park. The playground is damp and dreary. Moisture is building up and leaving droplets on the monkey bars. My mood sinks.

  “I guess that means we’re going to have to take off,” I say, trying to hide my disappointment. “I’m a little sad that you live all the way out here.”

  “Well I do have some good news,” Erica says. “I’m moving to my dad’s in Garland and starting school at Garland High next week.”

  “Really?” I brighten. “That’s great. So, we’ll be at the same school and in the same city? That’s really awesome.”

  “Yeah, that’s why I’ve been over at Leann and Marcy’s so much lately. I was enrolling in school because I’ll be living with my dad and brother now in Garland. You’ll like my brother. He’s cool. Monday my school’s out for a teacher’s conference, and I’ll be at my dad’s house. I start at Garland High on Tuesday. Marcy’s mom took me last week to enroll, so I’m all set. I could go to school Monday, but I’m going to take advantage of the day off.”

  “Where does your dad live in Garland?”

  “He lives about a mile from Garland High.”

  “What if I skipped school and hung out with you?” I ask.

  “That would be great. I’ll give you directions before you leave.”

  “Just give me the street and address, and I can find it.”

  “Okay!” Erica says and squeezes me closer to her.

  We arrive back at the apartment, and Rodney says he’s going get his car to warm it up. Byron goes with him, and I follow Erica and Marcy upstairs. Erica disappears into the kitchen and reemerges with a notepad and pen. She writes the address and tucks it into my jeans pocket.

  “I’ll walk you out,” she says, grabbing my hand.

  We walk outside hand in hand. Rodney pulls the car up to the curb. I turn to face Erica with my back against Rodney’s car. I put my hands on either side of her face and pull her in for a long, tender kiss. Finally, she takes a step away, grasping my hands again.

  “I love you,” she says.

  A flutter spreads through my chest and into my stomach. I’m so warm inside that I no longer feel the cold outside. I smile and gaze at her for a long time, trying to muster the courage to say the same words back to her.

  “I love you, too,” I say, not believing that we are really saying such powerful words to each other. Erica turns away slowly, waving a small goodbye. I hold my hand up in a wave and watch her walk away. I turn and climb into the passenger seat as Rodney hands me a lit cigarette. I shut the car door, and we start towards home. I pull the piece of paper out of my pocket to look at it. It has an address and a note that reads, I love you, and I can’t wait to see you again. Erica.

  I smile to myself and push the paper back into my pocket. I look over at Rodney, but he seems to be ignoring me. His eyes are watching the road, and his cigarette is dangling out of his mouth. I wonder why he isn’t being impatient with me like he usually is. I really expected him to tell me to hurry up while he was waiting for Erica and me to say goodbye, but he didn’t. Rodney’s mellow for once, and that surprises me a little.

  The night grows colder, but I still feel warm all over. I begin to feel tired as Rodney drives and eventually fall asleep. I wake up when we pull up to Byron’s house. I let him out and fall back asleep as we drive towards my house. Rodney nudges me awake when we arrive. I tell him thanks for the ride, and I’ll see him at school. He just tips his head at me and drives away. A tired kind of silence fills me on the way home that night as I reflect on all that’s happened the last couple of days. I walk in my front door, hoping no one asks me about my day. I feel like a conversation at this point would break my tranquil happiness. It isn’t late, maybe 8:00, but it feels later, and I figure the day has already produced all that it can. I just want to go to my room and fall asleep while listening to music.

  I shut the front door and see my stepmom and dad sitting in their usual chairs, half reading books, half watching TV. My dad laughs out loud at something in his book, and my stepmom looks up at him expectantly, waiting for him to share what’s so funny. I know they know I’m home. I guess they aren’t too concerned where I’ve been, and that’s fine by me. I continue to my room and shut the door behind me. I don’t bother to turn on the lights. I push play on my stereo and, as the Violent Femmes play “Good Feelings,” and pull out a cigarette from my hardpack. I crack the window and smoke as I stare out into the night while the music lulls me. The night is still, pairing with my mood. I finish my cigarette and snuff it out on the window sill, then crawl into bed and drift off to sleep.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning comes too early, and I hear my dad knocking softly. Light penetrates my room from the crack of the open door. I try opening my eyes to the thin strip of bright light invading my room, and see the silhouette of my dad’s face saying, “Corey, it’s time to get up and get ready for school.”

  My dad is always easy with waking me up in the morning. It’s like he understands how hard it is to get up from a deep sleep, and how rude it feels to be woken up. I’m grateful for his consideration, espe
cially since he’s an energetic morning person. “Up and at ‘em!” He would say when I was younger. In my teenage years, he’s taken it easy on me, and I appreciate that.

  “Okay, Dad, I’m awake,” I say, with a little agitation in my voice.

  My dad shuts the door quietly. I sit up in my bed, not really wanting to go through the motions of getting ready. I yawn, stretch, and then get up to look for a clean pair of jeans. I’m not the neatest when it comes to folding laundry or putting it away. I generally throw my pants on the opposite side of the room from my dirty clothes. I grab a pair of jeans and put them on, open up my dresser, pull out a random t-shirt, and slip on some socks and shoes. After a quick breakfast of cold cereal, I hear my parents calling that it’s time to go. Since we live on the south side of Garland, I have to ride the city bus to school. The terminal isn’t too far from my house, so my parents drop me off on their way to work, both working for Texas Instruments.

  When we arrive, my dad tells me to have a good day, and I clamber out. My stepmom seems to be half asleep still. She isn’t exactly a morning person either. Truthfully, she appears to be in a bad mood most of the time, and early morning is not a good time to try any form of conversation if you’re smart.

  I push my hands in my jeans pockets and tense up against the morning chill. Mist billows out of my mouth as I exhale. I find the bus I need and climb aboard. I look around to find a seat away from everybody. I look towards the back, hoping to find a place there, but there’s a group of black kids looking mean. I try to avoid the black kids on the bus because they are generally quick to instigate violence, and being a white kid on a city bus makes me an obvious target. I wear my hair shaved; otherwise, it’s thick and wavy and totally unmanageable. This has the unfortunate result of, apparently, making me look like a skinhead. I’ve heard the black kids on the bus refer to me as such. I can see from here the black kids at the back are giving me the stink eye, so I look away and find a window seat in the middle of the bus. I sit and wait anxiously to get moving. The sooner I can get off the bus, the sooner I can relax. The trip to Garland High is about thirty minutes, so I close my eyes, wanting to withdraw into myself until I get to my stop.

  ***

  I wake up as my bus is passing the school. It’s still dark outside, and I can see the courtyard in front all lit up. For an instant, I think I missed my stop, but then I remember I’m going to Erica’s dad’s house for the day. I reach into my pocket and pull out the address she wrote down. The street I need is just a minute or two down the road, so I force myself out of my sleepy state.

  When the street I need is getting near, I push the bell that notifies the driver to take the next stop. The bus slows to a halt, and I get off. I imagine the school’s automated messaging system calling my house to tell whoever picks up the receiver that I’m not at school. The call will come about 5:00 pm, and my parents aren’t usually home from work until 6:00. My brother or sister would get the call though.

  I light a cigarette and look around to get my bearings. I can see the number of the first house on the corner, and it isn’t the address I’m looking for. As I pass the first couple of houses, I can tell I’m going the right direction and, in a minute, I’ve found the one I’m looking for. I pause in the driveway, looking at the front of the house, and take the last couple of drags off my cigarette. I’m wondering if Erica’s dad is still home and don’t know if I should knock on the front door. As I’m trying to figure out how I should announce that I’m here, I see Erica peeking through the curtains. Her face disappears, and the curtains fall back into place. I throw my cigarette down and snuff it out with my shoe. The front door opens as I walk towards the house.

  Erica looks so pretty with her bed-tossed hair. She’s wearing a t-shirt, socks, and a pair of silky panties and couldn’t look sexier. I wrap my arms around her and feel her braless breasts push against my chest. I kiss her for a long while, standing in the wide-open front door.

  “Come on inside,” she says finally.

  She pulls me by the hand into her room, climbs into bed, and I follow.Right away, she starts pulling my shirt off and unbuttoning my jeans, stripping me down to my underwear. I undress her in turn, and we sink into the bed. I lie on top of her, kissing her and feeling the warmth and softness of her skin against mine. I take the waist of her panties and begin to pull them off. She grabs my hand and says, “I’m not ready to have sex yet.”

  “Okay,” I say, letting her panties go.

  She continues to kiss me and push herself into me. I’m really having a hard time holding back, but I respect her boundaries.

  After a while, the intensity eases up. Erica lies there with her eyes closed and a smile on her face while the sheets are pulled over our heads. It’s like we’re in our own world and no one can touch us. I watch her as she relaxes and drifts off to sleep. She rolls over, and I put my arm around her. I soon fall asleep, too.

  I hear a knock on the bedroom door and snap awake, thinking its Erica’s dad. My heart begins to pound hard.

  “Erica?” I hear a male voice say from the door, which is now cracked open a couple of inches.

  “Yeah?” she responds.

  “What are you doing in there?” the voice asks.

  “Just hanging out with my boyfriend,” Erica says.

  “You guys gonna stay in there all day?”

  “No. We’ll get up and come hang out with you in a minute,” Erica says.

  When the door clicks shut, I whisper, “Who’s that?”

  “That’s just my brother. You’ll like him.”

  “He’s not going to flip out that I’m in here?”

  “No. He doesn’t care what I do,” Erica says. She turns and faces me and gives me a quick kiss. “Come on. Let’s get up.”

  We get out of bed and put our clothes back on. I’m still a little unsure about the situation. When we walk out of the room, Erica’s brother is sitting on the couch smoking a cigarette. He has long, straight brown hair and a thin mustache. He looks a lot like Darren. They’re built the same, same hair and everything, but Darren doesn’t have a mustache and wouldn’t have been smoking.

  On the coffee table is a bong.

  “You want a beer?” he asks me.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I say, not really wanting one. I’ve had beer a couple of times, but don’t care for the taste.

  “His name is Matt by the way,” Erica says, as he gets up to get the beer.

  Matt returns with a couple beers and sets mine in front of me on the coffee table. He pops the tab of his, and I reach for mine. I struggle to open the beer as if I’ve never opened a canned beverage before. I guess I’m a little nervous. I’m already skipping school, and now to top things off, I’m drinking. I’m torn between not wanting to look like a wimp in front of Matt and not wanting to look like a lush in front of Erica.

  I glance up at the clock, and I’m surprised to see that it’s already noon. I didn’t realize that we slept that long. I take a sip of my beer, it tastes bitter, and I try not to make a face, so I don’t look inexperienced.

  “So how long have you been seeing Erica?” Matt asks.

  “Not even a week,” I say, taking another nervous sip.

  I fish my cigarettes out of my pocket and light one to mask the taste of the beer.

  “You’re all that she’s been talking about. I was wondering when I was going to meet the guy that turned her world upside down,” Matt says.

  “Shut up,” Erica says teasingly.

  “Wow, she’s really been talking about me huh?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I’ve never seen her like this before. Hey man, do you want a hit of this shit?” Matt asks, grabbing the bong off the coffee table.

  “No, I’m set with this,” I say, tipping my can at him.

  I look at Erica to gauge her reaction. She’s just sitting there, smiling passively. I don’t know if me smoking pot with her brother would bother her, but I don’t care to find out. Matt lights the bong. It makes a slurping noise as
he inhales, and hits the bong one more time before setting it down.

  “So what grade are you in?” I ask Matt.

  “I quit school. I wasn’t a good student, you know?”

  “What do you do?” I ask.

  “I’m in sales,” Matt says, smiling.

  I’m uncomfortable when I hear this knowing he meant illegal activity. I know that Erica isn’t mixed up in that kind of thing. I’ve never asked her if she does drugs, but I’m confident she doesn’t because I know her friends don’t. I take another drink of beer and lean into Erica for reassurance. She runs her fingers over the back of my head, feeling the soft fuzz of my hair growing back in. My uneasiness subsides a little.

  “Hey man, finish up that beer, and I’ll get us another one. We need something a little stronger anyway. We’ll use the beer as a chaser.”

  I tilt the can back and finish off what’s left. Matt gets up and disappears into his room.

  “He’s going to get you drunk if you’re not careful,” Erica warns.

  “I’ll be okay. You’re not mad that I’m drinking, are you?” I ask.

  “No, but I’m glad you’re not smoking that shit. I really don’t like him doing all these drugs. My dad’s going to kick him out if he doesn’t get his shit together.”

  I don’t know what to say. Matt reminds me of my brother Will, staying in his room all day, listening to music and drinking beer. He seems to come out only to cook dinner or watch a little TV, but ambition isn’t one of his strong points. My parents have threatened to kick him out for a second time, but so far they haven’t followed through with it.

  Matt returns with a couple more beers and a bottle of bourbon. He pours a little into a glass and shoots it back, and chases it with a swig of beer. He pours another shot and pushes the glass towards me. I look at him for a brief second, then glance down at the glass. The smell of it brings back a memory when I was younger. I snuck a drink from a bottle of whiskey kept on the hutch in the living room and remembered how it burned my throat going down. I ran to the kitchen sink and rinsed my mouth out as fast as I could. I was ten then, but the memory is still very vivid.