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him.
    “And every time I think of you…”
    “Every time…”
    “Every time I think of you…”
    “Every single time…”
    “It always turns out goo-ood!”
    Our eyes met for brief moments mid-song. Somewhere in my heart, deep down in my gut, in that moment, in the middle of our hurtling drive through that tunnel, shedding my forgettable previous existence, I became determined for the first time in my small life –and not again, it would turn out, for a long time afterward – to learn how to have and to be a boyfriend.

 
     
    Chapter 7
     
    Holly’s apartment was less than stately. My assumptions, based on her family’s home and apparent wealth, had misled me. When we arrived, I at first mistook the looming Victorian as entirely hers. Snow lay thinly on lawns and roofs of other homes along the tree-lined block.
    As Everett led me into the large foyer of the house, I realized my mistake. The front hallway had a row of half a dozen mailboxes inserted into a wall opposite the stairs. Along the hallway, what had been rooms in an expansive home had been divided into several apartments. Everett led me up the stairs and to one of several other doors that had numbers placed on each one.
    It felt both odd and comforting to enter the home of someone I had yet to meet. A few casually placed French Impressionist posters shared wall space with a series of framed photographs of Paris street scenes and costume sketches which were presumably Holly’s work. Plants sat on tables and a few standees by the large curtained windows. Late afternoon sun gave the room a bright warm feeling.
    I heard the clink of Everett tossing his keys onto the kitchen table. His “Ah-ha,” drew my attention through the doorway as he pulled a note from a magnet on the refrigerator.
    “‘Singing animals may keep me late,’” Everett read, slightly confused. “‘Make yourselves at home.’ Huh. I guess the opera she’s working on has a zoo.”
    He turned to me, peeled off his coat, tossing it casually over one of the kitchen table’s chairs. “So.” That flirtatious leer again. “Let’s get comfy.”
    With that, he was on me, wrapping me in his arms before I’d removed my coat or dropped my own duffel bag. His mouth tasted of the burgers and fries we’d eaten at a drive-through burger place along the highway. That didn’t stop me from returning his kiss.
    Still connected, Everett lightly shoved me backwards to the living room. After bumping into a table, prone on the couch, he burrowed under my sweatshirt to hover and press his lips along a route that went up to my chest. I was about to pull off my clothes, the excitement softened by a feeling of relaxation, what with no housekeepers or woodland creatures to interrupt us.
    But then Everett pulled himself from me, peeled off his own clothes down to his underwear and socks, and to my surprise and disappointment, began digging into his duffel bag.

    “Where are we…?”

    “Sleeping? Right there.” He nodded toward me and the couch, then extracted some other clothes from his bag.

    “Oh.”

    “We could get a hotel room, but I doubt they offer credit to minors.”

    “Right.”

    “Are you disappointed?”

    “No, I’m not. It’s just…”

    “What?”

    “Nothing. It’s fine.” I patted the couch. It would do, except of course for any moment that his sister would walk out the nearby door of what I assumed was her bedroom.
    Seeing my glance, he added, “It’s cool. She zones out with music and headphones before falling asleep. I used to sneak up on her at home all the time.”
    For what, I wondered.
    “It folds out,” Everett explained, nodding again toward the couch.
    “Oh,” I tried to relax, but sitting in the home of someone I had yet to meet, whom I assumed knew of our imminent intimacy, left me confused. Almost everything I did with Everett left me confused, at first.
    While Everett was in the bathroom, I tried to ignore the slightly erotic sound of him pissing,