That day Autumn Wurstle I wore my new blue corduroy skirt and my sister's too big sweater with my shiny black church shoes (my mother didn't know)—
a
freckled red-haired boy kissed my legs
as I raced up the jungle gym. He tried to catch me, but I was too fast. I knew what happened if you were caught and how the boys, laughing, dragged you inside the cold concrete tunnel, where-out of the teacher's view-they kissed you all over with wet little boy kisses, not stopping till their greedy lips had their fill.
Then, they ran away to fight over the swings with the other boys, leaving you to crawl out crying, into the garish sunlight, alone
