Little Boy Read Online Free PDF Page B

willing to lend me an ear when I had a
problem. Don’t ask me why, but he’d spend hours on the phone,
encouraging me to ask a girl out or giving me solace when I was
down. He gave me all sorts of guidance. More than anyone else, Paul
encouraged me to be me. Despite his jealousy, he never once
expressed jealousy toward me, whether or not he actually felt it.
Like a mother doting over a baby, he’d praise my accomplishments,
encourage me to study, and congratulate me when I had success with
a chick. Why he did this I’ll never know. Some might say that he
was living vicariously through me, at least when it came to girls.
Or maybe I was living vicariously through him, when it came to
morals. But I tend to think that unlike most assholes in the world,
Paul truly cared about me. I sort of wish I could call him up right
now and ask him what to do. But I won’t.
     
    I used to call him up a lot. Especially the
night before a big math test to ask him to teach me everything he
knew that I didn’t. I never had anything to teach him, though,
because he always paid attention in math class and I rarely did.
And he used to take all these extra math classes—really hard ones,
too—so that he could have some college credit when he graduated
high school. But I must have been pretty smart to have gotten the
same sort of grades he did, when I didn’t even pay attention half
the time. Looking back on it now, I don’t even know why I paid
attention at all in high school. I mean, I worked my ass off most
of the time, especially before a test, and got good grades. But
what the hell was the difference, because, in the end, nobody gives
a shit about high school grades anyway.
     
    At the time, though, I did care. Grades were
only of slightly secondary importance to girls. When I slacked off
in school, Paul was always there to help me out. And because we
were good friends, and because he always helped me with math, he
was the first person I told about getting Jeff’s sister’s phone
number. But like I said, I didn’t mention that it was Jeff’s sister
at all.
     
    I still can’t believe Paul lied about dating
those girls. I mean, one little white lie is okay, but making up
entire relationships was another. It only gave me more ammunition
to use against him, more things to make fun of him with. He was one
sorry bastard, that Paul. But he’s doing okay now. He got a summer
job with some big company in the city. He’s out there, working
hard, doing what he always wanted to do. He’ll graduate from
college a year early, I’m sure, because of all those extra classes
he took in high school.
     
     

Chapter 3
    Jets
     
    A few days after the dance I called Jeff’s
sister. By then I’d figured that at the very least I could get to
know other girls through her. Everybody knows that ugly girls
usually hang out with hot ones. You can’t blame them, though. When
all you got is dog food, you’d better hang out with filet mignon.
Naturally, sexy girls attract the better-looking guys. Why not
hover around that sort of magnet?
     
    I might’ve felt bad about using Jeff’s sister
to get girls, but I figured what the hell. As Kyle and I always
say, we don’t make these rules, we just abide by ‘em.
     
    And besides, at that point in high school, I
didn’t have that much experience with girls, and I needed all the
help I could get. I’d made out with a few, probably six or seven,
and that was better than average among my friends. But I’d never
had sex before.
     
    Sex .
     
    S-E-X!
     
    The word itself sounds so exciting to me.
It’s a goal that everyone knows he’ll eventually reach. It’s just a
matter of when ; and, more importantly, how . So much
of high school was spent pondering these two concepts—when and how
to have sex—that I hardly remember thinking of much else.
     
    I knew a lot of guys at school had done it
already, but not most of them for sure. I despised the bastards
that would loaf around before class discussing the