Monte

Reading “The World of Normal Boys” by K.M. Soehnlein makes me realize how boring I was as a young teenager. I was never rebellious, never skipped class, never attended parties with friends—I didn’t have many friends. But what I regret most was my lack of sexual adventure.

Robin, the main character of this book I’m reading, is 13-years-old and currently undergoing the process of sexual self-discovery: He’s having wet dreams about John Travolta, masturbating with his 17-year-old neighbor, playing “wiener in the bun” with his PE-reject friend, and having sexual encounters with men in public restrooms. What interesting stories do I have to tell?

Okay, so once I went on a “date” with this boy named Justin in the 10th grade and we played a terrifically raunchy game of truth and dare in the bushes behind the local mall. He dared me to touch his crotch; I dared him to touch my ass. End of story.

Meanwhile, Robin’s going skinny dipping with his neighbor in a lake at a golf course in the middle of the night.

There was that one time I skinny dipped in my uncle’s pool in Florida—alone. It ended abruptly when my mother caught me.

Robin on the other hand is sneaking boys in through his window late at night and having sleepovers.

When I was a senior in high school, I almost got expelled for kissing a boy after class.

To be clear, I don’t necessarily wish I were whorin’ it up when I was younger, but from the stories I’ve heard from other people, both straight and gay, I can’t help but feel like someone should have told me to lighten up back then. Have a little adventure. Get in some trouble every now and then. Those are the things that people expect from young boys. Unfortunately, that window of opportunity closed a long time ago, and any trouble I could manage to get myself into nowadays would just be seen as reckless, immature, or worst, irresponsible.