When Leta was eleven, an older boy decided to kiss her one day after school. The gesture both thrilled and repulsed her. He had her backed against a tree with one outstretched arm blocking her on one side. She had folded her hands before her, turning her head slightly aside as she had once seen an older girl do. The boy put his free hand to her chin, turning her face to his.
"Ever kissed a boy, girl?" he asked.
She turned her eyes away and blinked a few times. She didn't want to answer. What could she say? That she hadn't? What would he think of her then? That she was still a little girl? She looked back. Actually, that's all she knew how to do. She blinked a couple more times. Batting her eyes, her sister Louise called it. He pulled her mouth closer. She looked into his eyes; they were a cold slate gray. She had no idea what to do with her lips, so she puckered them tightly. She could feel his breath. And smell it. It was like sour milk. Did he have his mouth open?
She never found out, for just then a blast of cool air separated them, as a strong arm yanked the boy away from her.
"What the hell is going on here?" a deep, gruff and very familiar voice demanded.
Leta turned. There was her older brother Aaron holding the boy by the neck. Aaron's face was red and his eyes on fire.
The terrified boy was stammering gibberish.
"Aaron!" Leta screamed, "What are you doing?"
"Go home, Leta," he ordered.
"But he didn't do anything!" she protested.
"I said go home," Aaron repeated sternly.
Leta refused. Instead she grabbed her older brother's arm, the one choking the boy, and pulled with all her might.
"No, no, no, no," she insisted until he gave way, relaxed his hold and finally let go.
The boy stood between them, his entire body shaking.
"I was…I wasn’t doin’ nothin’,” the boy stammered. “I was just gonna ki--."
"If I were you, I'd head on home, boy," Aaron advised, "while you got the chance. I mean it."
The boy obeyed. Sister and brother watched him run down the road until he was out of sight, which didn't take very long at the speed he was going.
Then Aaron turned to his sister. He was still angry, she could tell. Leta gave him the biggest little girl smile in her arsenal, the one that always worked on him. He scowled.
"Don't be thinking I'm going to let you off that easily, little doll baby. What were you thinking?"
"He was just--"
"He was just going to kiss you. I know, you told me." Then he adopted his sternest, most fatherly tone. "Don't you understand, there is no 'just' when it comes to boys, particularly when it comes to boys and kissing?"
Leta was looking hard at him. She wanted to understand, but she didn't really. She only knew that there was a kind of thrill in having the boy like her, and it made her more alive than she had ever felt. She liked the feeling, and while she was no longer angry with her brother for interrupting, she was more confused than she was when the boy was about to kiss her.
"Look, I know this is hard for you to understand, doll baby," Aaron confided, far more gently. "But believe me when I tell you that boys rarely want to stop at kissing. So I'm telling you that it is best, at least for now to not be kissing boys, okay?"
Leta simply looked at him. All she knew is how disappointed and abused she felt.
"Okay?" he asked more sternly.
"Okay," she agreed reluctantly.
He put his hand on her shoulder and looked her right in the eye. "I mean it," he said with finality.
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