L I L L Y

 

The basement was the hangout place though it was nicer and tidier than the Shens’ living room (even with its walls painted the sweetened beige of a rotting peach). It was comfy down there, with a squishy old sofa (slightly stained), an old TV, and, other than a couple pair of Declan’s shoes, a surprising lack of clutter. Lilly now had to descend the carpeted steps very carefully or her head would bonk the angled ceiling of the stairwell. But once downstairs she could stand upright, and open her arms without fear of knocking anything over.

Their sandwiches were long since gone, but Lilly kept munching on chips as they watched one of their favorite shows: a kindhearted UK import where a trio of professionals made over punks and freaks and insecure girls with ninety layers of spray tan. The stylists gently showed them how beautiful they were without all their makeup and piercings and false eyelashes. Some of the transformations were remarkable, and it gave Lilly hope that even the oddest girl could be seen as beautiful.

At the start of their second episode, Declan made his way down the stairs and plopped onto the reclining chair beside the sofa. He took off his kicks—in his size, the basketball

shoes looked cool not monstrous—and threw them in the corner with the others.

“Chickadees,” he said by way of hello.

“Hey.”

Rain said nothing. Where she was used to her brother’s presence, Lilly still felt grateful when he graced them with his company. Not only was he older and adorable, but he was also genuinely sweet. The previous year when she and Rain had to sell candy to raise money for the school choir’s out-of-state performance, Declan sold half their inventory to his friends. And for Rain’s ninth birthday he’d shamelessly joined them in the basement for their karaoke contest, making sure, by crooning loudly and hilariously out of tune, that he was the obvious loser.

“Rain? You down there?” The voice came from the top of the stairs.

She shot her brother a confused look. “What’s she doing home?”

Usually their mom didn’t come home until six. Declan shrugged, indifferent.

“Yeah?” Rain called, sounding uncertain.

“You’ve got an eye appointment, we need to go.”

Rain and Lilly turned to each other, frowning. “I forgot,” Rain whispered. To the ceiling she said, “Can we reschedule?”

“No, come on. Is Lilly there—does she need a ride home?”

“My dad will be here in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” And then footsteps crossed above them.

The girls gazed at her other with exaggerated regret at their imminent separation.

“Call me later and tell me everything,” Rain said as she got up.

“I will. You getting new glasses?”

“Maybe. My mom thinks I squint too much. See ya.”

“Ciao.”

“Later, squirt,” Declan held up a hand, not quite a wave, as Rain disappeared up the stairs.

 

 

Lilly couldn’t decide if having fifteen minutes alone with Declan was the greatest thing that ever happened to her, or the most awkward. She was aware of him in her peripheral vision, his mop of black hair, his grimy socks, and couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of her new elongated state. Assuming her presence even registered. With her legs stretched out they filled most of the distance between the sofa and the television. But Declan had a way of appearing indifferent to everything, the solitary member of his own parallel universe.

With her eyes glued to the television (where a blue-mohawked girl in platform boots was wiping off her stripes of black eyeliner, revealing a surprisingly innocent face), Lilly weighed the pros and cons of attempting a conversation. Con: Declan might ignore her or think she was ridiculous. Pro: He might respond with something funny that would bring the warm blush of achievement to her insides, which of late had been feeling quite hollow in spite of how much she ate.

There was movement on her left as Declan pivoted, and before she could register what was happening he had decamped and was sitting on the couch beside her.

“Howdy.”

She froze for a moment, unsure what to do. A part of her was afraid to look at him, but the other part didn’t want to seem rude or creepy. Finally, she stopped tracking him in her peripheral vision and turned her head to meet his eyes.

“Howdy,” she mimicked back, and immediately feared she sounded like a bird.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Okay.” It was an unexpected development and she hoped he only wanted to make a silly inquiry and not ask one of the what-is-it-like-to-be-a-giant questions, like the kids at school.

Declan gazed at her with an intensity he usually reserved for video games and somehow his body had come so close that his knee pressed against the outside of her thigh. “Has anyone ever touched you?”

That was his question? Lilly felt the squirming eels of confusion. She’d spent a lifetime hugging people. Her dad caressed her back when she was sick or couldn’t sleep. Her grandparents always gave her a loud kiss on the cheek. She and Rain gripped hands when they were especially happy or excited. It was a dumb question. She glanced at his knee, where it still rested against her leg. His eyes followed hers.

“No, I don’t mean like….” Was he blushing? “I mean like real touching. Like, with a boy.”

“No?” It sounded like a question, two syllables, her pitch rising at the end. What was he getting at? He couldn’t possibly be interested in her—she was three years younger and his little sister’s best friend. He was in high school. She wasn’t an expert, but she was pretty sure most boys liked the older girls with the bigger boobs…. Oh.

Could that be his interest? Her eleven-year-old body that didn’t look eleven anymore?

“So would that be okay, if I…?” His hand twitched, like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. He rested it on her bulbous knee, then thought better of it and moved it to his own knee.

“Only if you want to. And over your shirt, not under.”

Lilly had no clue what she was supposed to think about this development. Yay? Gross? It was hard to comprehend why touching a fleshy chest blob held such interest for him. She tried to imagine what it would feel like—from his perspective as well as her own—but as the silence stretched into something gummy and uncomfortable she knew she had to reply.

“Okay.” Her answer lacked enthusiasm, though the more she thought about it the more curious she became.

Declan wasted no time, bouncing so close to her that his leg was almost atop hers. He put his left hand on her right breast, lightly over her ugly blouse, then cupped it a little. Lilly stared at him, trying to guess from his expression what he was feeling. He, too, seemed more curious than anything else; she couldn’t feel that much through the bra’s padding.

His face was just inches away and she saw black pores on his chin where he hadn’t scrubbed well enough. There was a speck of orange dust in the corner of his lip and recognizing it made her aware of his Dorito breath. Gaining confidence, he squeezed a little, and made a circular motion with his hand that made her tingle in a surprising way. He gripped and groped and fondled.

“Oh!” She hadn’t meant to say anything, and was almost afraid he could see, or sense, that something unusual was happening to her, deep inside. She half-expected her skin to change color, take on the cobalt hue of the inner core of a flame.

“Is that okay?” Declan asked, removing his hand.

“Yes. It felt nice. I wasn’t sure it would.”

That made him smile. The tension eased from his body and he looked relieved. And a bit proud. He moved away from her a few inches, nodding his head.

“Don’t tell anyone about this, okay? Even my sister.”

“Why?” The glow she’d felt suddenly sizzled. A wisp of dark smoke curled into a question mark in the air above them, its scent an alarm.

“Well…it’s just…private, you know.”

It might be weird to tell Rain that her brother had touched her boob, but it would be just as weird to not tell her. They shared everything; she didn’t like to think of their relationship changing, or of secrets coming between them.

Especially ones that Lilly felt she had a right to share. Wasn’t it her body? But then again, it was private. And perhaps, as Declan was suggesting in the hesitant spaces between his words, it was something a little bit…wrong?

Lilly wished she understood better why this brief exploratory experiment might have been wrong—was he not supposed to have touched her? was she not supposed to have enjoyed it?—but if she couldn’t talk about it she’d have to figure it out for herself.

“Okay,” she said softly. What they’d done wasn’t sex, but maybe it was an element of sex, and maybe at eleven it was something she wasn’t really allowed to do. That smoky question mark took on the aroma of a forest fire—perhaps one she had inadvertently started. Now to her confusion she added guilt. And shame. The shame alone would keep her from telling anyone.

“Okay, cool.” He seemed like a regular doofus again as he leaned back and re-engaged with their TV show. The blue-mohawked girl was now a young woman with a pixie cut and a sheath dress. Her reflection in the full-length mirror looked baffled. Is that me? Lilly knew just how she felt—all new on the outside while inside she was the same.

“She’s hot,” said Declan.

Lilly got up to leave. Might as well wait for her dad outside, where she could be alone with her thoughts and her body parts. Something had betrayed her but she wasn’t sure

what.

“Lilly?”

She stopped just as she reached the steps.

“Be careful. With boys. Okay?”

Were they dangerous? She wanted to ask, but didn’t want to sound naïve. “Okay.”

Muddled, she lowered her head and climbed the stairs.