I had lost track of Katie, as I was beginning seventh grade and she had moved on to high school. I missed her, but knew that I would see her again when I went to high school; maybe by then, I would be on the varsity team and she would be my girl.
Seventh grade was not too much different, except it was nice no longer being the youngest in the school. My friends started hanging out with girls more often and the girls started to become more attractive to me. You could say that I was shy; there were a couple of older eighth-grade girls who, according to my friend Tim, thought I was cute. Even though my basketball game was on point, my social skills with girls were kind of lacking. After going to the dance with Lauren, we had split; I wasn’t ready for a relationship, since I was only thirteen. The seventh-grade schoolwork was a little harder than it had been in sixth grade, but I didn’t really struggle with it. There were a lot more dances now, though. We would all go to the dances in groups of friends and just stand around, looking cool.
Middle school was all about different trends, and, looking back, it makes me sick to remember how hard I tried to blend in. If one kid started wearing skateboarding clothes, soon the whole group would; if someone tried a new lunch sandwich, then the whole group would. That’s when I started to notice different cliques. There were the jocks, which was the group that I fell into, and then there were nerds, stoners, skaters, hippies, goths, popular girls, promiscuous girls, and so on. Some of my friends from the team started to hang out with the promiscuous girls, and would always come back with lurid stories after hanging out under the bleachers. “Logan, this girl Meghan gave me a blowjob under the bleachers” or “Logan, she let me finger her.” I was jealous after hearing these things, since it seemed like I was missing out.
Many times I tried to get the courage to ask a girl out, but just couldn’t. I focused more on my basketball and baseball game, and decided that I was going to give it a little time. My friend Kevin tried to hook me up with Kelly in eighth grade. Kelly was known for pleasing all of the boys she went out with; she was a “giver.” I was sitting at my desk as Kelly dropped a note off as she walked past to go to the bathroom. I looked around nervously at my classmates and teacher as my cheeks turned red. Of course, no one had seen anything, thank God. The paper was folded about ten times, and, as my teacher continued to talk about world history, I opened the letter slowly. With each unfold, my stomach tightened. As I got closer to the end, I started to see words appear:
Logan, I want your body. Will you go out with me?
YES or NO.
My mind was racing as my heart almost stopped. My palms got wet and my forehead started to glisten with sweat. I could barely swallow as I circled YES. I left the note on the end of my desk for her to grab. She walked by, smiling nervously as she smoothly grabbed the piece of paper. I looked over at her out of the corner of my eye and saw her opening it up so slowly, licking her lips and gently biting them and then smiling. She reached into her bag and took out lip gloss and unhurriedly put it on and blew me a kiss. I nervously smiled, and walked out to the bathroom when I noticed that my erection was harder than Stonehenge. I looked in the mirror, tucked my erection, and smiled as I headed back to class. The bell rang and she walked out with her friends while I walked out with mine. The day moved quickly because all I could think about was Kelly. I had a big basketball game that night and I knew Kelly was going to be there, so I was a bit nervous. Had she seen me play? I wondered.
The game was beginning at our home court. The crowd was fairly big; it consisted mostly of parents of players, and guys and girls that were hooking up with one another. The coach grabbed my shoulder to pull me in; I was looking in the crowd for Kelly and couldn’t hear a word he was saying. The tipoff began as the ball was thrown out of bounds immediately. I grabbed it and inbounded it, looking for an open man. I passed the ball in and cut to the hoop to score an easy layup. Turning to run the other way, I saw Kelly walking in and laughing with her friends. She looks so sexy, I thought as I got back on defense. All I could imagine were her big lips pressed together as I played defense. Maybe it was the puberty starting to hit, but I couldn’t focus at all as my defended player rushed passed me and scored easily. On offense, I could barely dribble the ball as I ran up the court, losing the ball out of bounds. Finally, I made it to the hoop, took the shot—Foul! I was heading to the line for two shots, thinking about Kelly again. This time, all I could imagine was her lips. Wait a minute, what’s going on? My erection was starting. Please not now; shoot, hurry, shoot. I missed both free throws and was running back on defense as my erection was getting bigger and my cheeks grew redder.
TIMEOUT! I ran over to my coach and said that I had pulled something in my leg. God, please get me through this game, I thought. I sat out for the rest of the game, playing off my injury. What a great game for Kelly to see; I needed to hook up with her or this would happen forever. The game ended and we had barely won; my coach was having a small party afterward, pizzas and some parents and friends. As I walked out to find my parents in the crowd, Kelly stopped me and gave me a smile and hug. She said, “Are you okay?”
“Of course, I played off an injury,” I answered. She smiled and said that she was going to get dropped off at the party and would see me there.
Mom, Dad, and Jared dropped me off at my coach’s party. I said that I would get a ride back; I was at the age when I was embarrassed by my parents, so begged them to take Jared home. Opening the door, I saw my basketball team members laughing, eating pizza, and shooting hoops on the coach’s mini arcade game. The girls were in one section and the parents were having drinks in the kitchen. Kelly ran up to me and squeezed me; I smiled, feeling the warmth of her body on me. “Logan!” Tim yelled. “We’re going down to the basement, are you coming?”
In the basement the music was soft and the lights were dim. We all sat on the couch, watching TV and enjoying our victory tonight. My heart was racing, since I knew that Kelly was ready to hook up. Kelly grabbed my hand and walked me into the other room as my buddies from the team cheered and made sounds.
This was it; Kelly was all mine, and it was time to become a man. SHIT! I don’t know what I’m doing. I had watched pornos, but I was not sure how I was supposed to do that.
Kelly and I were in a dark room in the basement and her lips were on mine as she slowly stuck her tongue in my mouth. She tasted like cherry lip balm and her hands gradually moved down to my belt buckle. I felt my pants being tugged down to the floor. I kicked them off when they reached the bottom and could feel the breeze of freedom circulating around my whole body as Kelly pleasured me. The night was young, and so were we; our lives were perfect.
I smiled the whole way home. Now I knew what my friends were talking about. I couldn’t wait to tell the guys at school. School was a blast the next day; Kelly walked by, smiling at me as I confidently strolled with a twinkle in my eye as my buddies all jumped on my back.
“Are you going out with Kelly?” they asked.
“I’m not sure if I want a girlfriend yet, guys,” I said. Summer could open so many doors, and I wanted to keep my options open. I was trying out for AAU basketball, which was a state team of all-stars from Massachusetts. This would show everyone how good I really was. Also, summer league basketball was starting in a couple weeks. Between those two commitments, I wanted to have time for hanging with the guys.
The Bay City Breakers’ tryouts began the following week. Showing up was intimidating; I didn’t know anyone and the kids were fast. They were good at dribbling, shooting, and passing. The drills the coaches made us do were different than the ones I was used to, and the defense was harder; I could barely get by some of these kids. Two hours of intense training and tryouts, and then I went home with my head down as I grabbed my basketball. My dad walked me out—he thought I did great and gave me some tips, and said not to worry. How could I not worry, though? I needed to make the team. The phone rang as I was grabbing a drink in the kitchen.
“Hello,” I said.
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br /> “Hi Logan, it’s Kelly.” Great, she couldn’t have called at any worse time. I was tired from tryouts, my phone was on a wire and wouldn’t go beyond the kitchen, and my parents were right next to me.
“I gotta call you back later,” I told her.
“Why?” she asked.
“I need to go; see you tomorrow,” I said as I hung up. I felt bad, but this was not the time.
During dinner, my parents talked about their days like they actually cared. It seemed pretty obvious that they didn’t, as my mom barely ate her food and my dad ate all of his food while nodding his head. Is this what life comes out to? Jared mashed his food around as my dad yelled at him to eat my mother’s cooking; she, however, sweetly told my dad not to worry about it.
“Maria, he has to learn to finish the food given to him.” My mom then asked how my tryouts went, and I nodded and said that they went okay. I had a feeling that the coach wouldn’t call and that my dreams of being a pro basketball player were fading slowly. After dinner, I would usually play basketball in the yard, but tonight I felt like I never wanted to play again and just went to bed.
Yawning, I rolled out of bed on Saturday with a too-sore body, and walked out to the kitchen. My father had just gotten off the phone and called for my brother. “Jared!” he yelled. He arrived in the kitchen quickly, leaving his video games. My brother and I both respected my dad; he had always intimidated us, maybe because he was young and always in better shape than us.
“We’re going to Lake Placid, New York for your hockey tournament. That was your coach,” my dad told Jared. My brother got excited; this was his first time traveling for hockey. His team was doing really well and he would get a shot at playing against talented teams, like Canada. The trip was going to be for a weekend and would take place two weeks from then; we were thrilled.
Later in the evening, Mark McGowan from the Breakers called and my dad passed the phone over to me. “Logan, we liked the way you played and want to invite you to officially play for the Breakers. Practice starts Monday at seven and goes till nine.” I jumped a foot after I got off the phone, screaming in excitement as I grabbed my old Spalding basketball and went out to the yard to dribble and shoot. I had so much energy just from that one call. This was going to be an amazing summer between AAU, Lake Placid, Kelly, and summer league; things were perfect.
“Four hours until we get there,” my dad said. My parents had stopped for coffee and breakfast for us before we started the drive to Lake Placid. My coach was okay with me taking the weekend off to go to my brother’s tournament. Kelly was pretty upset that I was leaving, but I still left. Jared and I were playing Gameboy and being kids in the back of the car, throwing food at each other, farting and laughing. The ride flew by for me, but I’m sure that for my parents it took forever. We arrived at the hotel and parked to check in.
It was a decent-sized hotel with a pool, Jacuzzi and a game room, so I was happy enough. I mean, besides going to Maine and New Hampshire, I had never been anywhere, so it was cool to be in New York. My dad and mom talked with other parents as Jared ran around the hotel with his hockey buddies. I felt like an outcast as I looked around for any kids my age, but didn’t see any.
Jared had his first game at seven the next morning, followed by another game a couple of hours after that. I sat on the bed of the hotel room for a while, watching TV and being bored. I decided to walk down to the arcade and check it out; my mom had given me a room key and told me to be careful. As I went out, turning the corner, I saw a couple of kids in the arcade, mostly younger than me, and then I spotted two girls around my age—maybe a little older. I walked in, popped a quarter in a baseball arcade game, and started playing; I could hear the girls looking over at me and giggling. I glanced at them a couple times as they stared back, giggling some more. They came over after that, and asked me who I was and where I was from. They were here from Canada for the tournament. They then asked me which room I was in. I laughed and said 416, as they ran away, which was a bit confusing, but they were kind of cute. I finished the game and went back to the room.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! “Who the hell could this be?” my dad and mom said.
“Is Logan there?” two girls asked as they giggled. My dad turned around with a huge smile as I blushed and my stomach dropped.
He said, “Oh, yes, Logan is right there; why don’t you show him around?” and laughed.
“Dad, come on,” I said reluctantly.
“Just go, Logan,” he insisted.
“Fine,” I said. They were so giggly and must have been like fifteen years old, while I was only thirteen.
They had a slight accent that was sexy; it was different from Kelly’s Boston accent. It was very proper, which was kind of a turn-on for me. They brought me down to the swing set and both jumped on it, swinging, and laughing when they caught me blushing.
They asked if I have ever been to Canada, and I replied quickly with a “no.” The wind was blowing gently and my legs were cold, but also very shaky as I could feel my knees buckling. Why did they bring me here? They slowly got closer to me, and one girl sat on the other’s lap and kissed her on the lips gently as she looked over to see my reaction. My heart nearly exploded, and my knees felt like they were cemented into the ground.
“Logan?” they called me over and brought me in for a kiss. One of their mouths caressed my ear and the other was biting my lip—was this heaven? They slowly grabbed my leg and took control of the situation, making the night unforgettable.
I slept with my eyes open that night. It was hard to determine if I was dreaming about what just happened. I didn’t even think it was worth telling anyone because nobody would believe me. My basketball buddies, Kelly . . . I was most certainly not telling her. I figured that I would keep this my little secret.
Morning arrived and I was so tired, but I must have had a smile that looked like I had won the lottery. My dad gave me a knowing look and smiled. My brother hopped on the ice, skating fast and shooting. The Canadian team was faster, bigger, and better, and even though my brother’s team went zero-and-three in the tournament, I left feeling like a winner.
AAU had started and the first practice was brutal; the kids were faster, taller, and I was not the best one on the team, unfortunately. I was more like the sixth man after coach determined our roles in practice.
After only one weekend, I saw Kelly at my first summer league basketball game in town. She smiled and hugged me, but looked different. Later, after my game, I found out that she had been hooking up with another kid on my team. How dare she, I thought, what a bitch! Then I thought, Well, technically, what had happened at Lake Placid was very similar, except I feel like I got more than just a hookup. It made me realize how crappy middle school was, since no one knows what they really want. I was popular, so Kelly had liked me, and now another kid was becoming popular, so she liked him. I guess those weren’t the girls for me.
I spent the rest of the summer playing basketball and going up to Cape Cod where my aunt and uncle rented a cottage. Cape Cod was amazing; when the tide would go out, I’d be afraid of all of the crabs and creatures, and my dad would put me on his shoulders and run through the water as I screamed. My whole family had spent each summer on Cape for the last couple of years. It was hard to see Papa up there; he was so fun when he wanted to be, but he would always worry about his wife, Eva—my Nana. She had gotten to the point where she didn’t even know how to function anymore and didn’t recognize her own family.
Summers on Cape Cod were probably the best times in my life. Nothing mattered, and the air up there was always different; maybe it was the smell of the seawater. After a long day at the beach, I would take a shower and throw on my comfortable shorts and tank top. We would all go out on the go-karts and trampolines, followed by ice cream for everybody. To end each night, we would all watch a movie, and the cousins usually fell asleep during the opening credits. The adults would then have a good time and act like kids; I’ll never forget how peacef
ul life was back then.
That summer passed by as quickly as the rest, and I would soon begin my final year of middle school. The biggest downer in my life was my Nana, who was in the hospital and on her deathbed. My family had gathered at the Winchester Hospital, praying as we watched the woman who had struggled her whole life, but never once complained. She was only sixty seven years old. “Such a short life,” my mother said as she cried on my father’s shoulder. My eyes felt heavy as Jared and I stood in the back, confused with life. I was confused to see such a sweet woman lose her husband, kids, nephews, and nieces.
So Eva Verano passed away on that autumn night, and my mother stayed the night with her family as my dad, Jared, and I went home in silence. I hopped in my bed, staring up at the ceiling as my eyes squinted, and then I burst into tears, covering my face with the pillow.
The morning arrived and my mother was home at the dinner table, reading through college applications. She said that she was going to enroll in night classes to become a nurse. The tragedy of my Nana was devastating, but to see my mom finally having the courage to achieve her dreams was a breath of fresh air. She knew that becoming certified would be hard, but she accepted that she would do whatever it took to make it happen. She enrolled in Northern Essex Community College for a two-year nursing program. I could tell that she was frightened, but I think that the death of her mother had made her fearless in her own life.
Jared was entering fifth grade and seemed excited about it; he had tons of hockey friends and was popular. We stayed close, but he had his own friends and I had mine; we were always close, but we were no longer little kids playing in the yard anymore.
My first eighth-grade party was at Tim’s house; even though his parents were always home, they never really seemed to pay too much attention to what he was doing. They lived in a beautiful million-dollar house with a basketball hoop, trampoline, and huge finished basement where all of us kids would hang out. The party mostly consisted of girls and guys making out or playing spin the bottle, hooking up, whatever young kids do. His seventeen-year-old brother would sometimes come downstairs with alcohol. Some of my friends would try it and did not really like it, and others, like me, would not even touch it. I was only fourteen, so there was no way I was going to drink; plus, why did I even need to? My life couldn’t get better.
The Crossroads of Logan Michaels Page 3