Chapter 1

I have this theory that vivid memories you recall when you were young are the ones that emotionally impacted you the most at the times at which they occurred. For example, I remember only several vivid recollections from my childhood; some standouts include: my grandmother dying, fracturing a vertebrae in my back skiing, and learning how to masturbate. Now, some ten years later, my current high school memories are beginning to fade, as well. The only general reminiscent moments I still hold dearly involve sports, weed, and girls. I captained my men’s volleyball team during my senior year, but also stumbled into becoming a complete stoner. I hadn’t kissed any girls yet, but I was obsessed with them. My immediate family: two parents, no siblings, lived less than a ten-minute walk away from Bloomfield High School. Both of my parents worked during the day, so I was home and alone every Tuesday and Thursday getting historically baked at around one o’clock in the afternoon. My guidance counselor, who was a friend of my mother’s, helped me to plan my senior year schedule with a string of consecutive free-blocks. Now having at least two hours of freedom, I could walk home and do whatever I wanted before returning for last period Spanish class. At my house, my routine would start with smoking on the porch and getting my sight lost in the trees. Then, I’d receive my square, four cheese pizza delivery, eat it, and finally go somewhere to play with myself. I was jerking off to a clothed Vanessa Hudgens in one of the High School Musical movies, pre-iconic nudes leak. 

In high school, I was sort of a “rando.” I had friends, but not enough to be considered “popular” and that’s rightfully because I dressed like a buffoon and always had a goofy self-done buzzcut. I looked hilarious, rocking four years of braces, long-ass sideburns, and this awkward protruding vein in the front of my skinny forehead that appeared whenever I’d smile. Having had the comforts of a Jewish private day school for nine straight years prior, I became terrified by the prospect of going to a public high school. My grade size, in a matter of one year, transformed from 40 kids into 400. Once I began classes though, I somehow adapted quite quickly. I had friends scattered throughout multiple social circles, but most of my closest pals were Asian kids and nerds. They were the most friendly! Their leader and my closest homie was Ivan, who was six-foot-four and had a very infamous stutter. He showed me the ropes, navigating the hallways together, dapping up Lees, Lis, and Langs. Ivan and I met in social studies class during an ice-breaker game. Our teacher asked each of us with whom we would have dinner if we could choose anybody, living or dead. My instinctive answer upon receiving that question was: “Spongebob.” The whole class erupted in naive freshmen laughter and Ivan extended me an underneath high-five below the desks. He looked up and joined the slapping hand exchange with a “My man Joey!” and that became our thing. For the first two weeks of knowing each other, all we would say was, “My man Ivan” and “My man Joey.” A beautiful friendship was born and all my fears about now being in a public school had disappeared. 

In our mini clique that Ivan and I constructed, we had tons of interesting diversity. Dudes from all over the world, all shapes and sizes, with all sorts of hilarious accents, clothing styles, and facial hair. The primary issue was that we didn’t have many girls to accompany us. In middle school, I was friends with every girl in my grade…now, all these females seemed so foreign to me. They all had a history together; I was an outsider. There were a few that chilled with us over time. Some of them gave homework answers in exchange for liquor that we’d steal from our parents. Some of them just wanted to do cool shit with us and were our genuine friends. I wasn’t romantically interested in anybody specifically. All I had was my hand and my imagination, and that was about all I needed.

At one point during our four years of school, Ivan and I had made a ten dollar bet. The odds were not in my favor, as we only had a week left of school and therefore Ivan was about to win. The stakes were simple: see Lily’s tits. Lily was one of the homework helper girls in our group. She was a few months older, more mature, both developmentally and physically. Lily had the biggest boobs in the grade. It was so astonishing, her stomach to chest ratio. She was thin, actually a ballet dancer, but had this gargantuan, scoliosis-inducing rack. I was always friendly with her, but nothing more and high school was ending so I was about to lose the Ivan bet...

I skipped out of our graduation ceremony early to go home and smoke with my next door neighbor. During the summer before college, that’s all we did. Toke, play hoops, eat, toke again. I found myself suddenly hooking up with this emo girl from a neighboring high school for a few weeks right at the start of summer. Her name was Annie. She was kind of nerdy looking, introverted and with a dark sense of humor. She had little chains and piercings all over. We watched The Shining together one night and took walks outside a lot. I remember I first met her during our state championship run in volleyball. That night after the game, I sucked her boobies. They were my first and they were quite gorgeous. The next day, we lost in the finals, but I couldn’t stop grinning because of what had just happened. I remember remarking to my teammates in warmups, unprovoked, “Yeah, I had a tit in my mouth last night, whatever…” Annie began to become too serious, she was catching feelings and she and I both didn’t know what to do.

She ended up calling it quits on me during my family’s graduation party that summer. I wasn’t bummed at all when we walked to her car for one final goodbye. She gave me a dry smooch on the cheek and said, “Keep in touch.” Then she drove off in her little gray Honda Civic. I walked alone back to my house where the party was still bumping. Outside, as I approached from a distance, I could see a silhouette of a person taking up quite a bit of space. I was focused on getting back to my party to eat more barbecued ribs and hand-rolled sushi. When I approached the figure from below the walkway up to my front door, I recognized it as Lily. I didn’t invite her to the party, truth be told, but she came anyway. She and I had a period of time when we grew close, but she sort of broke my innocent heart… A few months prior to my party, she went and hooked up with this guy in front of me. I was, for my first time, passed-out drunk on the basement floor of Lily’s parents’ house. School jock Jake and unsuspecting Lily walked off into this bedroom, hand in hand. It was a night I mostly forgot, though legend tells that I projectile vomited into Lily’s hot tub. All I do remember is waking up, my head spinning, and then seeing Lily adjust her dress as she emerged from the bedroom. She then proceeded to break up the prom after-party by kicking everyone out, including me, even though I was actually her date.

How could I forgive her that quickly? My boutonniere matched her dress and I had a shot at winning my Ivan bet, but she chose someone else that night instead. It didn’t ruin me, but it was reason enough to not invite her to my party. Now, she was there standing outside my house on the phone, and I was wondering what our interaction was about to be like as I climbed up the front stairs. She hung up the call as I reached the same plateau and greeted me with an extended “Joeyyyyyy,” followed by a hug. It was the longest we’d ever touched, but I was still bitter. I said a passive-aggressive “Glad you could make it!” and then reached forward to open the door. She immediately dashed her hand out to my shoulder and interrupted with “Actually, do you want to go for a walk real quick?” I conceded and we walked back down towards the sidewalk.

She was complaining to me about some new guy with whom she was just on the phone. Apparently, he wasn’t treating her well, and while I didn’t really have sympathy for Lily, I did care for her and offered some advice. She was thanking me and eventually asked something basic and juvenile like: “How do you even know when you’re more than friends with someone anyway, ya know?” I nodded my head in agreement. It was then that my Jimmy Neutron instincts started to formulate and I was gifted with an idea. What if this was my chance to win the bet? What if I had a window right now into Lily’s blouse? Gotta blast! 

“So… what about us, Lily? Are we more than friends?” I finally mustered. We were clearly not, but the move somehow worked. We began kissing gently on the ledge of my neighbor’s driveway. She was getting more aggressive with her mouth and I yanked away to stand up in front of her. I was panting and motioned her to come forward. I didn’t hesitate even slightly before reaching towards her tummy and grabbing a clothed breast. It was too big for my singular hand, so I rubbed it like I was polishing a bowling ball. I kissed her some more and worked my lips down near her neck. I breathed heavily as I reached my hands towards her top and pulled downwards at her cleavage. I removed the massive boobs and juggled them back and forth in my young, confident hands. They were exploding out of her tight bra and I was dying to suck on them, though I know it was not the time, or place. They were way bigger than I could have ever imagined and I didn’t want the moment to end. The kid I used to babysit lived across the street and I could see him playing Xbox in the window. I politely gave Lily one last peck on her mouth before we mutually decided to stop and go back to the party. “Later?” she clarified. I was thrilled and smiled to show that I loved that plan. She wanted to smoke and do more playing after my barbeque had ended. I was beyond excited, though I was already full and burnt out. Lily had never smoked, so I wanted to teach her how. She wanted her first time to be with me and that sort of made all our tragic history fade away. 

When the day finally ended and all the friends and family had left our house, I texted Lily that I was ready to hang out. She lived about three minutes from mine, so I hopped over in my jalopy truck with my remaining weed and a very trustworthy pipe. The stash I’d secured was apparently Sour Diesel, which I was told is the “hottest fire in the game.” Lily and I didn’t care; we were just happy to be together again. Her parents were away this weekend so we had the family mansion all to ourselves. Our kissing initiated immediately upon my arrival. We sat down on her diving board to smoke, and not long after, she was beaming with excitement. Last time I was at this pool, I made a fool of myself there. Now, I was in my zone, packing a fat bowl with a super sexy girl. I was feeling accomplished, like the man.

I was taking her weed introduction quite seriously, I was popping her pot cherry afterall. I showed her how to hold the lighter properly, but not to burn her fingers when she lights the edge of the bowl. I hit it and even tried blowing some “O” rings outside into the wind. I was not entirely suave but I was feeling like things were finally secured; I had this in the bag. After Lily hit my pipe for her first time, she went silent for about forty seconds. I caught her staring off into the distance as I motioned my hand to rub her back. She told me that she wanted to be even more high, so I repacked the bowl with a pinch of grinded weed. The whole thing was for her, and she was about to go into the deep end. She coughed delicately and smiled at me brightly, her mouth was still exhaling the thick smoke, Now we were both good and baked. 

I was ready to play with her boobies again! I couldn’t stop thinking about how massive and heavy they were. She went into this rant as she explained to me the shapes she could make up in her mind out of the stars above. I waved my hand up and down in front of her to refocus her attention towards us. “Hey, you there, Lil?” I whispered as I inched towards her even more. She laughed and started kissing me again. “You’re funny!” She said, before flicking around her tongue in my mouth more violently than earlier. Her body was squirming across my lap and she was biting my bottom lip with her own. I was ready to move on, I was ready to go inside her house.

When we finally got inside, into the basement, I was immediately crushed by vivid flashbacks of Jake taking her into the bedroom only some three months prior to this moment. Jake was somehow so cool and popular that he apparently didn’t need a prom date. He went with a group, but ended up sleeping with my girl at her own after-party. The room reminded me of Jake and his athletic presence. He took her into that bedroom back then, but now, it was my turn. It was so hard to see in the dark; there weren’t any windows and we kept the lights off. Lily had no idea how much thought processing was occurring in my head. I could feel my mind rushing through the entire scene. She pulled me by the hand, hers feeling weak in mine. She dragged me into the room finally and pushed me onto the bed from the bottom edge of it. She wanted to kiss more, I just wanted to motorboat her breasts. It didn’t take me long to pull them out again. I removed each individually and instantly started sucking one like bagged wine. I freed her from her bra, removing it impressively with just my one coordinated hand. Her hair smelled like weed smoke and her nipples tasted like almonds. I asked if she could shimmy the jugs for me, and then I threw them side to side like a pendulum. I did my best to recall how they looked in the daylight. It was so dark, but bouncing them around in my palms felt like I was juggling a small dog.

She straddled me and her ginormous titties hit me in the oblivious face. I aggressively sucked them more and she made a quiet moaning sound. She liked my nipple kissing abilities, but I could tell she wanted more. “Joey...” she finally muttered. “Do you have a condom?” I didn’t and I didn’t wish I did. This was not my opportunity to have sex for the first time; I was sure of that. Didn’t feel right, not the energy I needed for that initial experience. I had never come close to doing anything sexual with a girl, and now that the time was here, I didn’t know what to do with it. I told Lily I was celibate and she somehow bought that. I had always thought that my first time having sex would be perfect, so I had no hesitance about waiting. Lily went to suck me off instead, except I guess I wasn’t ready for that either. I stopped her with a jagged body twist to my side, throwing her off, her body landing next to mine. I kissed her more. “Can you just use your hand?” I offer. She doesn’t question why she can’t put me in her mouth, but she’s high and doesn’t seem to care. She starts untying my tight sweatpants. I thought we’d start here tonight, with our hands only, I didn’t want to skip any bases.

She had no idea what to do with it now that it was out. It wasn’t hard, it was miniature and scared. It didn’t feel as good as I had wanted; in fact, it didn’t feel like much at all. It was a sort of numbing sensation, her clawing at my shaft, the tugging upward and to the sides. It wasn’t a jerk, it was more a yank. We needed oil but I hadn’t learned about that yet… She was on the verge of ripping my dick skin and completely unfocused. She might as well have been beeping, she was so robotic. She was utterly silent and I was disappointed to say the least.

Now I had lost track of time and I wasn’t sure how long she had been trying down there. My penis was not budging at all, but something was beginning to happen in my other head. Thoughts began racing faster than even before. I was trying to look around but all I could see was darkness and the gleam from the top of her head. She was resting most of her body weight on my stomach and I noticed her head bobbing up and down more and more quickly. I went to feel my pulse on my wrist and it was expectedly going wild. This was not foreign to me, but nothing like it had happened in a long time. A few years ago, I had a cardiac ablation which fixed a certain “Wolf Parkinson’s White Syndrome” that I had. Congenital abnormality. Before they threaded a catheter into my chest and cryo-froze off an extra passageway in my heart, my BPM would speed up randomly on occasions a lot throughout life. 

We always assumed these were panic attacks, but they evidently weren’t. Despite my dad being a cardiologist, we only figured out my condition one day when I was playing baseball with my middle school, and still, best friend, Simon. This random catch I had, when I shot my arm up to glove the ball, triggered my heart to speed out of control somehow. Frantically, I tried to bike home but when I tipped over only seconds after starting to pedal, I called Mom for some help. Coincidentally on this day, my mom was with my dad at the hospital where Pops was undergoing some serious surgery. I downplayed my situation to my already concerned mother and tried to bike home again. This time, my eyes shuttered open and closed involuntarily and my entire body felt ice cold. I wasn’t going to make it on my own... My neighbor came to scoop me and the bike and take us to the hospital. A different hospital… one I had unfortunately been to growing up on many occasions. It sounds trite to mention that I also had another, unrelated heart issue when I was born. I was monitored for my Kawasaki’s Disease every few years, so I fortunately had a cardiologist with whom I was close at the nearest Children’s Hospital. She ordered the attendants when I got to the revolving doors to admit me to the ER, and what happened the rest of that day should warrant its own book. I was eventually scheduled to get “cardioverted” but because Simon and I had eaten mac ‘n’ cheese earlier that day, the doctors had to wait before paddling my chest. Apparently before the cardiovert, which literally would reset my heart, the doctors wanted to wait until I had fully digested the pasta. I guess there’s protocol to wait and try other things before resorting to the paddles. My heartrate that day was about 300% faster than it should have been resting. The doctors only then diagnosed my new syndrome, W.P.W. My uncle, on the phone in Seattle, ended up suggesting the doctors try a certain medication called Inderal, which for the time being, slowed my heart back down to a normal resting rate. 

It was a miraculous moment actually when my heart rate started to slow that day. All the nurses who had been helping me applauded; I kid you not. Weeks later, a specialist doctor fixed me with this operation called an ablation, and now today with Lily was the first time I was having any issues since. I was hoping that this was indeed a panic attack though from the weed and not a reason to go to the hospital again, but I couldn’t think rationally. I knew weed sped up the heart, so I tried to tell myself that this time was different than last. Plus I had been smoking for months with no issues prior. This episode was merely me freaking out, not a trigger to go into cardiac arrhythmia like before. I was visualizing myself in the back of an ambulance though as Lily continued to whip around my penis with her untalented hands. I was completely filled with fear and shock. What was happening to me? Also, why wasn’t I hard?

I threw Lily to the side and rolled over to grab my phone. With a Blackberry smartphone back then, you had to record a video in order to use the flashlight. I filmed the floor as I carefully navigated through the pitch-dark bedroom. Lily, from behind me on the bed, asked if I was okay finally. I couldn’t even talk. I just stood up and continued walking outside. Pins and needles overcame my entire face. One hand was holding my phone and the other was checking my pulse on my neck. Was this the weed? The flaccid penis? My heart? Regardless, I thought life was over, I needed to be saved. I couldn’t rationalize any of this as a panic attack. My phone recorded all the horrid heavy breathing sounds but I ended the video to make a call to my parents back at home. 

They were confused to hear my voice but showed up less than five minutes later to drive me and the other car back home. Lily and I exchanged a frail and trembling hug as I walked out her front door towards my concerned parents. Lily gazed onward towards us as my parents drove me off into the distance. I didn’t think I’d ever see her again, but that didn’t really matter right then.

When I got home, Mom and I did some deep breathing exercises together. Finally, I calmed down and Dad assured me that everything with my heart was fine. I fell asleep on a leather ottoman in the den. In the morning, our family dog, Maggie, woke me with a sloppy lick on the cheek. I went to feel my chest and to see how fast my heart was racing, but it had slowed down now. It was just my mind, and probably the weed. I shifted my focus to the birds chirping outside and the waffles being cooked in the kitchen. I had a text on my phone from Lily, “Hope you’re okay!” I didn’t reply. Am I okay though? What happened last night? Why didn’t my dick get hard?

Over the final weeks of that summer, I laid low and mentally prepared for my move to Maryland where I’d start college in the fall. Lily was going to a performing arts school on the West Coast, where she’d pursue creative dance. I thought how unlikely it is that I’ll ever have another shot with her, let alone see her again. Also, weed’s chemical reaction in my brain was eternally augmented, for the worse. For seeing Lily’s boobs, though, Ivan rewarded me my ten dollars and sent a very enthusiastic “My man Joey!” text. I couldn’t help but laugh in the moment. I was distraught about my first sexual encounter, but excited to see what bounce-back opportunities I’d have in the future.