A Consequential Coming of Age

Because our parents worked several jobs, we were like house cats you'd check on from time to time with preoccupied curiosity. I can hardly remember what we did each day, but none of it, to me, was ordinary; most of it, in retrospect, reckless; and all of it fun. Like the time Larissa and I walked around in the rain all day ("It's just water,” she said as I hesitantly threw my mom's battered umbrella in the trash can) until our hair hung in wet spirals and our sneakers squished. Or when I slept over at Larissa's grandmother's in Coney Island, and we took our blankets to the beach at two in the morning and waited for the sun to rise. And, this being the early days of dial-up Internet, the time Larissa persuaded me to meet a couple of "guys" we'd been "chatting" with on AOL Instant Messenger. They could have been anyone but turned out to be 17-year-old boys, and Larissa hooked up with the better-looking of the two while I sat on the couch with the other and watched Full House.