The Music of What Happens - Bill Konigsberg Page 0,11

for hours. Because ASU is done for the summer, it’s actually quiet beyond the bleating of cicadas and the occasional automobile heading down University, one block south. My heart is pounding because I’m walking next to Kevin, and I know what’s coming. Or I think I do.

“Do you have protection?” I ask, not daring to look to my left but yearning to see his blue faux-hawk.

He laughs a little and says, “Relax. I’ve only been with like five guys.”

Flash forward two hours and I’m in his dorm room. It’s a night of firsts. First night after the end of junior year. My first college party. My first time in a dorm room. My first time turning off my phone and knowing that Rosa might freak if I don’t get my brown ass back home soon. My first time, period. It’s like I’m high, but I’m not. A couple beers. Things are getting real, fast. My heart is in my throat. My ears are stuffed up like when I fly to Colorado Springs to see my dad.

Kevin’s shirt is off. Skinny-chested and narrow, with purplish nipples that stand out against his pale skin. He stands at the foot of his single bed, staring at me. I’m shirtless too. He shakes his head over and over, like I’m some beautiful thing, which is awesome and scares me shitless.

He says, “Are you my dark-skinned boy?”

A bubble of something slushy fills up my esophagus. I don’t answer.

“Are you my Arabian prince?”

My jaw tenses. I want to make a joke about how fucking stupid that shit is, but I don’t want to kill the moment. Too curious to see what’s next. Too excited. Still, I gotta say something.

“My mom was born in Mexico City and my dad is from Indiana,” I say.

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on. Don’t be so sensitive. It’s a fantasy, okay?”

Time goes sideways. My head fogs. Nope. Nope —

My eyes flash open. Even though it’s hot in my bedroom, I shudder like I’m freezing, and I wince. I’m not trying to think about that.

I glance at my phone and press the button. 3:04 a.m. I sigh. Not a good hour to be up. Especially when you have your first day of work the next day. Food truck. With Jordan, who is — I dunno. His mom was a trip, but she won’t be there. That’s good at least.

I spent the night studying up on how to run a food truck. Lots of YouTube videos. I have no idea, so I watched a few. Jordan will have to fill me in on the rest, which I’m worried about. Based on our conversation earlier, he’s not exactly the best communicator.

I lie in bed until I can’t stare at the ceiling anymore, can’t explore for another second the slat of light that runs diagonally across my ceiling from the moonlight. Will I be able to see it shift if I stare at it all night? When does it disappear, and how?

I get up, go into the kitchen, pour a glass of water, and chug it down. Then I wander outside and sit with my feet in the pool. It’s not yet bath temperature; it will be in about a month.

I look up at the sliver of moon through the saguaros that flank our pool. Too bright for stars here, and I wish I could see them, wish I could ask them questions.

Like, what the fuck was that with Kevin?

It wasn’t cool, the whole thing, to the point I can’t really even — I don’t know.

I need a do-over. I’m so stupid.

I slosh my feet through the still-cool water. The ripples undulate, and the reflections of the cacti shimmer. I stare and stare until the ripples subside, and once the saguaros are back in sight and steady, I shake my head.

Nope. I’m a warrior.

Mom and Dad don’t agree on much, but they both have pretty much the same take on that; they just say it in different ways.

Mom always says all sorts of shit goes down in the world, and it’s up to me to decide how to take it. The one way you’re sure to be unhappy is to frown your way through life, she says, and she’s right. Always look for the bright, vibrant color through the darkness. It’s always there, but sometimes hard to see.

So I had my first time. Last night. I guess I’m a man now, right? Shit. Doesn’t feel — shut up. Shut up shut up. You got