“She lost her cherry to Queen Donadio, the head cashier at the Italian market on Arthur Avenue. It wasn’t love, or anything like that. Angela must have been fifteen, and the cashier kept eyeballing her one afternoon until she felt hypnotized, so she followed Queenie into the storage room. Angela didn’t have to do a thing. Queenie plucked off Angela’s clothes, and without a word of warning began to nibble between her legs. Most of Queenie’s scalp had vanished, and Angela didn’t know whether to la...ugh or cry. It was like having a wet tickle. And then she started to moan in rhythm to the maniacal wanderings of Queenie’s tongue, and she let out a cry that was like the mooing of a cow robbed of all her milk. Queenie dropped her after that, didn’t even say one word of hello, and it wouldn’t have mattered, because Angela got into trouble. Her mother was away in a mental hospital, and her father never worked; he kept sniffing around whenever Angela had her period. She didn’t have the heart to punish her own papi.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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