Blue put down his old, battered guitar down next to the amp, as Leo started unplugging the many wires.
I sat, cross-legged, on the table in their tiny room.
"So what did you think?" Blue asked.
"I'm not sure. It felt like confusion. Was it confusion?" I mused aloud.
"Almost exactly" said Leo, as he grinned his almost sheepish grin.
"Anyway, I'm going to play football. You coming, Leo?" Blue said.
"Nah." Leo shook his head. "I don't really feel like it." He turned to me, as Blue closed the door behind himself.
"You gonna stay?"
"I could"
"Good." And he smiled again.
His smiles made the colour come into my cheeks.. Although they probably weren't, I felt like they were somehow meant specially for me. I watched his nose crinkle slightly and his eyes both squint and light up and I had to stop myself from fluttering my eyelashes. There was just something about this boy.
I took another toke.
Out of the corner of my eye, I observed him slapping the inside of his elbow, I assume to expose the vein.
He picked up his syringe, already loaded, and stuck it in. I winced a little; just watching made me nervous. As he drained the contents of the needle into his arm, he let out the breath that I just realized he'd been holding.
As he started to sit up, I grabbed the nearest book and opened it up to the first page. I blew softly on the end of my joint and took another drag.
"What have you got, there?"
I found the title. "Howl and Other Poems." I said.
"I've been meaning to start that. Everyone always talks about Howl and I've never read it."
"Really? I can't wait till you do. It's an amazing poem."
He looked at me and smiled again.
"Read it to me."
"I... what?"
"Read it. Out loud."
"Um... okay. I guess."
I opened the book to Howl and looked up.
I knew the first few lines.
"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
"-looking for an angry fix."
"I thought you hadn't read it!"
"I lied!" he giggled, his eyes wide with delight.
He lunged forward and grabbed my joint out of my mouth. Inhaling deeply, he said "Read it."
"angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
He grabbed the book from my hands and read.
I took another drag off the joint.
I sat, cross-legged, on the table in their tiny room.
"So what did you think?" Blue asked.
"I'm not sure. It felt like confusion. Was it confusion?" I mused aloud.
"Almost exactly" said Leo, as he grinned his almost sheepish grin.
"Anyway, I'm going to play football. You coming, Leo?" Blue said.
"Nah." Leo shook his head. "I don't really feel like it." He turned to me, as Blue closed the door behind himself.
"You gonna stay?"
"I could"
"Good." And he smiled again.
His smiles made the colour come into my cheeks.. Although they probably weren't, I felt like they were somehow meant specially for me. I watched his nose crinkle slightly and his eyes both squint and light up and I had to stop myself from fluttering my eyelashes. There was just something about this boy.
Maybe it was the slightly curly hair falling down on his forehead. Maybe it was the way he didn’t really enter the conversation, not in a socially awkward way, but in a way that suggested he was content merely to observe. Maybe it was just that damn smile.
"You okay?" he asked.
I snapped out of my reverie and shook my head a little.
"Yeah, of course." I hopped off the table and went over to the two mattresses that served as his bed.
He was rummaging in his cupboard, I suspected for a jacket, because he was shivering.
I sat down and started looking through the pile of books beside it; most of them looked old and battered, and a few new, and well, battered. He seemed to be on a Beat kick. The Subterraneans sat atop Dharma Bums and Naked Lunch. Fear and Loathing was lying open and face up. "This is bat country!" the first line on the page screamed.
Leo came and sat down beside me, sans jacket. He had a small pouch in his hand, which he dropped down next to him, and took out a small bag of pot and some papers.
He looked at the book in my hands; "Have you read that?"
"More than a few times."
"I'm only just getting into it. You'll laugh, but I've only just gotten into the Beat Generation."
"Hey, each to his own" a smiled. "So what were you into before this?"
"This and that. Last book I read was If On a Winter's Night a Traveler. Have you read that one?"
"No, but I plan to. Do you have a copy?"
"Somewhere here."
He finished rolling the joint in his hands, handed it to me and held out his lighter.
"Thanks" I said, putting the thin joint in my mouth and leaning forward to light it.
I took a deep drag and closed my eyes as I exhaled. The silence was immense.
When I opened then, he was taking off his belt. I must have looked a little puzzled, because he smiled his sheepish smile again.
He pulled up his sleeve and looped his belt around it, holding it taut with his teeth. I'd figured out what was going on; Blue had told me he was a junk user, but I'd never really seen him do it. I didn't want to seem like an idiot and stare, but it was almost as if I couldn't tear my eyes away.He was rummaging in his cupboard, I suspected for a jacket, because he was shivering.
I sat down and started looking through the pile of books beside it; most of them looked old and battered, and a few new, and well, battered. He seemed to be on a Beat kick. The Subterraneans sat atop Dharma Bums and Naked Lunch. Fear and Loathing was lying open and face up. "This is bat country!" the first line on the page screamed.
Leo came and sat down beside me, sans jacket. He had a small pouch in his hand, which he dropped down next to him, and took out a small bag of pot and some papers.
He looked at the book in my hands; "Have you read that?"
"More than a few times."
"I'm only just getting into it. You'll laugh, but I've only just gotten into the Beat Generation."
"Hey, each to his own" a smiled. "So what were you into before this?"
"This and that. Last book I read was If On a Winter's Night a Traveler. Have you read that one?"
"No, but I plan to. Do you have a copy?"
"Somewhere here."
He finished rolling the joint in his hands, handed it to me and held out his lighter.
"Thanks" I said, putting the thin joint in my mouth and leaning forward to light it.
I took a deep drag and closed my eyes as I exhaled. The silence was immense.
When I opened then, he was taking off his belt. I must have looked a little puzzled, because he smiled his sheepish smile again.
I took another toke.
Out of the corner of my eye, I observed him slapping the inside of his elbow, I assume to expose the vein.
He picked up his syringe, already loaded, and stuck it in. I winced a little; just watching made me nervous. As he drained the contents of the needle into his arm, he let out the breath that I just realized he'd been holding.
As he started to sit up, I grabbed the nearest book and opened it up to the first page. I blew softly on the end of my joint and took another drag.
"What have you got, there?"
I found the title. "Howl and Other Poems." I said.
"I've been meaning to start that. Everyone always talks about Howl and I've never read it."
"Really? I can't wait till you do. It's an amazing poem."
He looked at me and smiled again.
"Read it to me."
"I... what?"
"Read it. Out loud."
"Um... okay. I guess."
I opened the book to Howl and looked up.
I knew the first few lines.
"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn-""-looking for an angry fix."
"I thought you hadn't read it!"
"I lied!" he giggled, his eyes wide with delight.
He lunged forward and grabbed my joint out of my mouth. Inhaling deeply, he said "Read it."
"angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat
up smoking in the supernatural darkness of
cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities
contemplating jazz" I read. I was beginning to enjoy this. It sounds stupid, but I love reading aloud.He grabbed the book from my hands and read.
"who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and
saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated,
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes
hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy
among... the scholars... of war"
I took another drag off the joint.
"who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull, who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the-
And he kissed me.
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