Me and the Boys #3: Three Rs, Three Ms, and the Two Bs
At 13 years old, Rochelle was the best built out of my group of friends in the 8th grade. Unlike Maila, Mary, Meredith, and myself, she’d ripened enough to have gazongas that more than impressed the boys. A couple of said boys were Rob and Rod, ninth graders with a bad reputation; and thanks to middle-of-the-hood geography and the lure of teen pheromones, those bad boys somehow ended up at my house. I’ll admit that I never liked Rod—not before…