But now, he was just a little spaced out a lot of the time. Like he’d rather be doing something else than be with me. The spark had gone out.

  Maybe he had the hots for someone else. I didn’t want to know so I didn’t ask.

  I told Sandra about this incident at Bobby’s basement. But even she doesn’t know about the other thing that I’ve never told anyone about.

  When Bobby was between my thighs, I found myself fantasizing about another male. Someone who’d really just enjoy going down on me and who’d take his time with it, and enjoy the time spent with me instead of griping on how long I took to come and all sorts of other technicalities.

  I thought far out — I thought of Jonathan Rhys Meyers. I thought of Johnny Depp. I thought of Orlando Bloom. Jude Law. Some model I saw on a Burberry’s ad.

  And suddenly, for a moment or two, I thought of Ed. Ed Noel Drake, with his dark hair and nice eyes. I told him that his eyes reminded me of Elvis Presley once. He said, “Thanks. That’s what every sister should say to their older brother,” and I smiled.

  I’ve always taken it as a compliment when people say we look alike because with his good build, handsome youthful features (high cheekbones, beautiful smile — natural, no orthodontic makeover required), he’s quite God’s gift to women.

  And as I was sighing, and moaning, the sigh was because I just knew that Ed wouldn’t have said the same thing that Bobby did. But I wondered how I was going to ever find that out to prove it.

  Ed’s a good older brother. Protective, so I made sure Bobby wasn’t around too much. Why Ed would ever want to know what I taste like, is some fantasy I’d best keep to myself.

  We are pretty close siblings. I would have to be out of my mind to allow something like that, to mess things up between us.

  [Ed / 12 March 2007]

  There is a GOD. Julie told me yesterday that she just broke up with Bobby I asked her what happened she said things just weren’t working out and I said good now you can get yourself a better guy meaning me of course a loud voice says from somewhere above my head wow I guess she’s finally opened her eyes.

  Then Kingston sends me a text telling me there’s a party over at his house today, coz his folks are out of town, and I say to Julie “hey man let’s go you can get your mind off Bobby it’ll be fun” and she says “yes that sounds like a good idea” and we tell Mom we’re going to watch a late-night movie later tonight and Mom says “okay” coz we told her while she was yakking on the phone about some Desperate Housewives episode then OH.ME.OH.MY I realize that this is the day I have been waiting on ever since I can remember.

  We’re already here and everyone is pissed drunk the number of people making out upstairs I don’t have enough fingers to count them, and one of the rooms with clothes on the bed reminds me of when I saw Julie changing when she was 13. I must have seen her changing before but that’s the one I remember. At home her door is normally closed when she’s getting dressed. Nobody knows except the walls of that clubhouse we went to over the weekend.

  It was one of those chalets we were in. 4pm her door was open I was walking by she had three or four shirts laid out on the bed. Her girlish body, just on the brink of teenagedom. She was more concerned with picking out the best one than having privacy the sun’s rays were shining in, her hair was falling over her chest she’s so pretty, and she has only gotten prettier since. I went into the shower where I was heading to and masturbated myself to climax.

  Julie Julie Julie, my starlight, where areeeeeeeeee you. I saw her just now and she was talking to a skanky-looking chick that looked drunk enough. I mean I was looking out for Julie, making steadily sure she was getting slowly more and more drunk, then bringing her to a new bunch of people so she’d get mixed up with who she was talking to, and the old bunch of people we were talking to would forget about us and then everyone would forget about us and she would be alone with me.

  I am chatting with Kingston about his actress-cousin “Aiko Bailey” I ask “is she related to whoever owns Bailey’s Irish Cream”, and when Kingston turns round and yells “WATCH THE FRIGGIN’ VASE!!” at a couple of people on top of the piano I head for the drawer where sure enough there’s a wad of cash, and I take two hundred dollar bills, never know when you’re gonna need some extra dosh. When I turn around, I don’t know where Julie is and 30 people seem to have come in through the front door so where on earth is someone when you really wanna find them?

  I was going to get her drunk, check. I was going to get her so drunk she wouldn’t know who she was with and I’d be able to come in and rescue her like the chivalrous older brother I was and am but maybe I wouldn’t even need to do that all I’d need to do was steal her away to some place — all is going good, but maybe it’ll have to be outdoors, Kingston’s house is too full already dammit the huge shower with its glass doors would be perfect but of course that place is already locked, I’d pay the bozos inside if I had cash to spare so that I could loan the restroom for a half hour or so then I realize that I DO have the cash but am missing the partner that I can’t find but really anywhere would do ANYWHERE I already have the condoms in my wallet just in case I if I still have my wallet with me in the first place, do I, do I — I do, alright, alright.

  And then YES there she is on the couch, Julie oh my fallen angel in the arms of this lecherous looking I think lecherous is the right word dude who I think is the quarterback of the university football team. I remember seeing his face a few times in the local papers. Her shirt is lifted and I see those beautiful awesome rose-pink jewels her firm supple torso’s mesmerizing focal points, her denim bra it’s on the guy’s shoulder and she’s stroking his dick which must be in Heaven now through his jeans.

  Thanks mofo! Ed can now save the day! I’m gonna rescue her from this lowlife asshole and tell her all about it tomorrow.

  I give him a shove and say: “Hey, that's my sister. Get off her.”

  Quarterback doesn’t seem to buy the concerned brother act, why’d he need to be threatened by me at all as well compared to him I must admit that he is the more physically opposing. Trouble, trouble. Cold shiver runs down my spine but I finish what I start.

  Quarterback suitably sizes me up and knows snapping my neck wouldn’t be difficult.

  “You’re so funny I’ll kick your ass,” he slurs, his hands on Julie’s buttcheeks.

  “She’s underage.”

  “She doesn’t look it. And she doesn’t act like it.”

  “Well she is, and I can report you. I’ll take a picture on my cell too.”

  I hold it up. I’m not too sure about the law, and my cell has zero camera phone capabilities. But it works.

  Quarterback shoots me this look and I see the empty bottles of Heineken on the floor should I smash one over his head before he does it to me first but he slinks off the seat with Julie’s bra as a souvenir the lucky swine and leaves Julie half-naked yes-yes-yes-yes-yes! right there waiting for me.

  “Oh you,” she purrs. Oh, how sweet her voice is. “I was just getting started! Did you meet Casey? He said he’s taking me to a dance next week!”

  “Yes, yes I did. Let’s go now, shall we.” I pull her shirt down and my heart is pounding in my head.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Out, somewhere. For fresh air.”

  There’s some people at the door that I don’t know but no one gets in the way as we two stumble out of the house and it’s just us two making our way to the back, Kingston’s house is so huge and the garden is limitless and the lighting is dim and nice and I hear a couple or two making out, moans the raw sounds of hot damn just the thing I need and I’m aiming for the furthest spot away, at the fence, or maybe over the fence if I can manage coz there’s a park over that side and that would be swell.

  I feel Julie weakly gripping my arms, and her weight’s on me. She’s passed out!

  This is my chance NOW before she wakes up, but even if she does she wouldn’t know it’s me coz it’s so dark, and her memory would be hazy, now’s the time. I carry her do my best is she really THIS heavy one hand across the upper back this looks a lot easier in the movies and another at the knees what-is-that weird squishy thing I just stepped on, then we reach this gazebo thing in Kingston’s garden. I go to the back of it and it’s a good hiding spot. I’ll be able to see or hear anyone if anyone steps near.

  I shake her very lightly and whisper, Julie...

  She doesn't respond. The dim light from the two tall lamps in front of the gazebo allows me to see what I am doing. My hands are trembling as I lift up her shirt. My hands are still shaking and I am panting slightly. My crotch feels like it’s on fire. I unzip her skintight jeans and pull it down and I know there’s that perfect 10 ass which would look even better riding My Captain Caveman.

  I eye her flat stomach and her lacy red-black panties, the one I had come in before. I want her completely in the nude I lie there over her frozen for a minute as I build up the courage to start removing her magnificent mind-blowing panties when suddenly, she flickers her eyelids open.

  “Ed,” she says softly.

  God Almighty she recognizes me and this is the end of me. She’s going to scream and I’ll have to knock her out. Promptly. Soon. Now. I’m a murderer. This was doomed from the start. Anything would be better. Getting raped by a stranger, being kidnapped, anything but your own brother

  “Ed.” She smiles, a real happy smile, not the drunk flirty ditzy “he’s taking me to the dance!” semi-conscious type of smile, and passes out again.

  My breathing stops for 5 seconds. I lean into her again, and whisper “Julie?” I don’t know what else to say she’s not waking up ED: WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR and I can hear some of the faint hip hop music coming from Kingston’s house, and see the cars parked outside, and I’m still hard but I think it’ll only be for a couple of seconds more and I feel a little guilty, but this is the best that I can do, the years and years before something...and I find myself going down, and I kiss one of her breasts...that are so, so soft and snuggly...and I find myself doing it, because it’s out of something that feels faintly like respect and honor and I do a 180 from where I was before all these foreign words I’ve never thought about come floating up in my head. I kissed her: for her trust her friendship her laughs her support her positivity her femininity......and I cover her up lest anyone should see her I mean what the shiz she shouldn’t be on display like this for the whole world to see and gawk and ogle at even though there is no one and I lie on the grass next to her, feeling like I want to pull my entrails out and hers too for getting me into this senseless crudacious mindless craphole, yet I’m filled with a strange sense of what feels something like pride, while still being undeniably incensed at myself for everything, even though I can really have it all right now as I take her lovely smooth hand in my sweaty worthless one and gaze at the stars above, wondering to no end if I should, wondering why I’m not, wondering if she’s alright, wondering what kind of fubar brother I am, wondering if she’s ever wanted me, wondering

  Ed: something’s wrong with you.

  [Julie : 14 March 2007]

  Spent yesterday lying around in bed.

  It was the usual scene the other night. Well, I mean “the usual” in the sense that that’s what happens at a party sometimes when there’s way too much booze. Too much booze makes you do reproductive acts and lots of other activities.

  I wasn’t holding it onto Ed to look out for me or do the whole protective older brother thing. I’ve given these get-togethers the miss most of the time, so I was going to check caution at the door. Before I’m twenty-one and officially an adult, and then twenty-five, whereby it’s all downhill and hello to gravity thereafter.

  Kristy Rose was at the party. I remember talking to her, something about chocolate fondue and strawberries. Today, she was online, and she said she wished she had a brother like Ed. I asked her why, and she said I was “going too far with this guy” (whom she doesn’t know), and that Ed stopped us. I hope Ed didn’t see me doing anything too crude...

  What do I remember?

  I was admiring Brad Kingston’s kitchen at one point. It was really sleek and the fridge and ovens were top-of-the-line. Very spacious too.

  I remember drinking some gin, and then two shots of something called Magic 78 Vodka, which was 78% vol. alcohol, hence the name.

  It’s quite a blur after that. Lots of people and faces. The floor seemed to be a little out of alignment, like one of those optical illusions.

  Someone said “Megan Fox.” I don’t know if it’s the same person who said he wanted to take me to some spring break dance next month. Oh right, I vaguely remember seeing a bra on somebody’s chest. A hulking jock looking kind of guy? Was he parading around in it? Hmm. It’s likely to be mine because I used my denim one there that evening, and I’m missing that from my collection.

  Someone was dragging me out later. We were stepping over bottles and bodies. I think something crashed to the floor — a guitar hanging on the wall, or a painting or something.

  We were holding hands. It was a new feeling: how nice and safe holding a hand could be. Right now, I’m thinking to myself why Bobby’s hand never gave me the same warm feeling.

  There was a very bright light. I was staring at one of the lights on the front porch — or wait, it was a car. This car came pulling in and flooded my eyes with the headlights.

  Shortly after, I fell against someone’s body. It was a lean, very comfortable body. I think it might have been Ed but I can’t be sure.

  It was akin to the feeling when I sometimes hug my fluffy pillow at night when I’m alone, and I’ll pretend the pillow is my fantasy guy that knows everything about me and where to touch me and how, etc...

  The earth was kind of spinning. Then I was in the dark, stretched out in Brad’s garden. I was filled with a sense of exhilaration. There was something like a crowd cheering me on in the background. I was hallucinating that Ed was all over me! I saw his face once. It was a twin image. I said, “Ed, I’m so glad you’re here!”

  Did I say it twice? Once for each image that I saw of him?

  I don’t know. It felt like a fragment of a dream. I don’t even know if I thought it or spoke it aloud, or whether I was dreaming or conscious.

  What I do know is what happened afterward.

  I must have passed out again. When I came to, I was at home, in my room. I was feeling woozy. My head hurt. I glanced at my Swatch wristwatch — it was 1.16am. Then I saw Ed’s bare back.

  I’d seen him around the house a few times like that. No chest hair. There’s some below the naval.

  He was in his shorts and arranging two coasters, with two tall glasses of ice water on the tabletop.

  “Hey, Julie,” he said, when he saw I was awake.

  My body registered that I was raging with thirst. He handed me a glass of water, and steadied it because I nearly dropped it. The water down my throat was like diving into a refreshing pool. The light was down rather low. I noticed I was still in the outfit I’d gone to Brad’s in, sans the bra.

  “Did Mom wake up?” I asked. Ed said, “Yeah, but I said I was going to have a bath and that you were asleep.” He added that he went downwards, missing all the footsteps that creaked, and got the glasses of water.

  “You got me home?” I said.

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, you had a little too much to drink.”

  I laughed and nearly fell onto him — held his arm as I sat back up again, as I tried to stay awake without the aid of toothpicks to keep my eyes open. “Did I do anything?”

  “No, just walked over some people, and uhm...yeah.”

  “Uhm yeah” is my brother’s way of indicating that something did happen, but he just didn’t want to talk about it.

  I pointed to his shoulder. “Are you getting that tattoo?” I asked. He’d been going on about an angel tattoo on his left shoulder blade for a few weeks.

  “No.”

  “Oh. Why not?”

  “Think I’ll be clean. I mean I’m not too sure about it...uhm. Yeah.”

  “Thanks for getting me back,” I said, and gave him a hug before I fell back onto the bed.

  A few minutes later — could have been a few hours for all I knew, but my watch said 1.29am — I woke up, and Ed was sitting on the edge of the bed. I still had a bad headache, but was able to function. “Hey, you’re still up,” I said, sounding and looking half-drunk still, just to see what he’d say next.

  I was curious. He had a look on his face like he was trying to read you, to see if he could ask you something. I wanted to know what it was.

  “Yeah. Man, I’m just stoning.” He stood up. “I’ll go now. Good night.”

  I rolled over onto my stomach. “You canstaifyannnn.” It came out muffled and that was the point. What I meant was, “You can stay if you want.”

  “Hmm?”

  I kept quiet.

  “Julie...what did you say?” I felt his hand on my shoulder. To be more accurate, I think it was the upper side of two fingers. His touch was so gentle and light. I wish I could feel more of his touches. I wish I could...corrupt him.

  “Stay a while?” I said. “Keep me some company. Rabbits! Bunnies! Look at all the bunnies hopping! Whee!”

  I added that last bit hoping that my drunken act would suffice. Then I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.

  Whether my acting skills worked or not, he got under the covers beside me. I felt an electric wave going through my body from the head down to my feet. I wanted to turn around and face him, but I didn’t dare. This was the closest I’d been with Ed, in this horizontal position that is.

  I was waiting for something. Waiting for him to make a move. He could have. I would have reciprocated.

  In short, it’d go along this line: I was drunk, he took advantage of me, and we’d leave it at that, and never talk about it again.