It got old living on the street, waiting for people to give me money. Haha, one day I went with my friend Cici, a little white kid from San Diego who I met wailing on a drum set on Hollywood Boulevard, down into Central to some gangbangers’ to score. A mixed crew of Mexis, Filipinos, and Asians had taken over a house and they were runnin’ everything outta there; guns, drugs, electronics, even food. The place was one of those fancy old houses with an iron fence around the yard and dogs barking, trash everywhere. The house was old and broken down, two floors of craziness, music, graffiti, and people running in and out.
Cici opened the gate and a big Rottweiler came chargin’. Cici jumped back. That boy turned white as a sheet! I never seen anybody so scared as Cici was; scrawny little blonde-haired blue-eyed surfer boy with acne all over his face.
What happened next surprised me. A guy came out of the house filling out jeans and boots and a wife beater. He gave all the signals, but he wasn’t a usual street thug. He had black hair and almond shaped eyes. He spoke Spanish, but he wasn’t Mayan.
“¿De dónde es usted?” “ Nací en Argentina.”
The slant of his shoulders and the way he looked at me made me all flush, like I’d never felt before with a boy, with anyone. It totally scared the shit out of me, wamchaka!
His name was Joey. Cici and Joey spoke for awhile about business, and during that time I felt this strange opening in me, a gap where one had never been. All I could do was watch his lips move. I could suddenly imagine him crawling all over me, and for the first time the idea didn’t seem like a chore. And that scared me too. How was I going to eat if I didn’t fuck him for money?
I must’ve been sending out some pretty strong vibes, cuz he kept lookin’ over at me through his lovely eye lashes. He smiled and I even saw him blush.
“What is it?” Poor Cici, good natured, always out to score, and completely clueless about his surroundings. If it hadn’t been for me, he might’ve wound up dead that day. I knew it soon, too, because Joey took us inside and told Cici to wait in the main room where niggaz with guns were cutting lines of coke and licking it out of their girlfriends’ vaginas ‘n shit. Sick stuff, I’m talkin’ fo’ real!
Joey grabbed my hand and pulled me upstairs into the back of the house where he kept the shit. We passed a television screen playing some war video of exploding bodies over loud music, ‘couple dudes were chewing khat and giggling over it. Joey opened the door to a dark room with a bed, a table, and a lot of books lying around. He pulled a big bowie knife out of his pants. The thing shone, and I knew what he would use it for, but he reassured me and put it down on the table underneath the window glowing red behind a gold curtain. I remember stains on the walls that looked like blood spatter. Joey looked at me with those lovely Latin eyes of his and he threw me up against the wall. And I swear I never felt more excited by anyone. The next second he’s on me with his heat and his sweat, and he’s pawin’ up my skirt and pulling me apart for his cock to enter. And he slid in, and oh my god, I never felt anything like that before in my life, wamchaka, I’m telling you. He was so sweet and hard – so full of energy – and he could move, and he just set me on fire!
“¿De dónde es usted?” It was his turn to ask now.
“Yo vivía en Texas, en Houston.”
“Nice.” He laid his head against mine, looking into my eyes as he moved around inside me. I could taste his breath and just stared at his ruby lips.
“You like me to kiss you?”
“Yes,” I said.
“You like me to fuck you?”
I nodded. He kissed me. He put his tongue in my mouth. Nobody ever looked at me the way he did. He took me completely, right then and there. He didn’t own me. But I was his.
“Will you stay?” Joey asked. “I will take care of you. I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re too pretty to be out on the streets.”
Face down in the bed sheet with him inside me, and everything between my legs hungry to take him and keep him, I nodded. He put his hand in my hair, and he kissed me all the way down my back. We fucked for an hour, while poor Cici waited for his smack. I couldn’t ever remember being so happy, and I knew I wouldn’t be going back to Hollywood that day and prolly never.