Run DMC's "It's Tricky"

Part One

Jedi, my brother, was four grades ahead of me, and for years, I gleefully played the pesky younger sister card as much as I could, always hanging around under foot whenever any of his friends came over. One of Jedi's friends, Mise, had a younger brother, Mase, who he'd bring over sometimes. Both Mise and Mase went to the local Catholic school; Mise, like Jedi, was a junior in high school, and Mase was in eighth grade, a year ahead of me. When I was younger, I thought that kids went to Catholic school because they were religious, that they paid to go there specifically for the religious part. I couldn't imagine anything lamer than that. I just figured Mise and Mase were both boring, nice kids, much like the boy scouts Jedi also hung out with. How quickly I discovered that Catholic-school kids are far from angelic. In the course of my eavesdropping, I heard Mise tell Jedi about a crazy party at some kid's house in some rich-sounding subdivision where some girl got really wasted and flashed everyone. I heard Mase tell Jedi and Mise about how Mase and his buddies egged someone's house and that one of his friends peed in someone's pool. I found all of this information to be very intriguing. I learned so much about boys and boy-life from listening in on those conversations. It sounded like they were having way more fun than I was.

One afternoon, I came home from school and Mase was sitting on our porch steps. I remember how small he looked in his Vision Street Wear t-shirt. I asked him what he was doing there; he said that Mise was inside and he was waiting for him. I said, "Oh," and just stood there. We both looked around and past each other, not really sure what else to say. I didn't know what to talk about with an eighth-grade boy. Boys to me were a curiosity, then, like gawky aliens with bad skin and squeaky voices. I wanted to ask him more about the pool-peeing incident, like did the pee turn the pool water green? But since I found out about that while snooping, I kept my mouth shut. Mise came out and punched his brother in the arm. "Let's go, ass-face," he said. Mase looked embarrassed and scowled at Mise's back. Mase muttered, "See ya around," and followed Mise down the street.

A few weeks later, I was standing in my driveway, trying to set a leaf on fire using a magnifying glass. The closest thing I got was melting some of the rubber off my right sneaker. I was deep in concentration, so when I heard Mase say, "Hey," I dropped the magnifying glass on my foot. "Oh hey," I said, rubbing the top of it. "Jedi's not home yet."
Mase hopped off his BMX bike and leaned it against the fence. "Okay. I'll wait."
I shrugged, crouching back down on the asphalt, maneuvering the magnifying glass toward the direction of the sun.
"What are you doing?" Mase laughed.
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
"Trying to burn your foot off, that's what."
"Look, if you want to wait in the house, the door's open."
He grinned at me, "I think I'll wait here."
"Whatever." I went back to my science experiment, acutely aware that he was staring at me.
"Maybe if you move the leaf to the left?" Mase scooted it over.
We both watched closely, and after a while the leaf started to smoke."Wow! That's neat!"
Mase nodded, "Yeah. It is, isn't it?"I stared at him in admiration. At that moment, I thought Mase was the coolest person on the planet. My marveling was interrupted by the sound of Jedi and Mise pulling into the driveway. Mase ran to his bike and hoisted it into the back of Jedi's truck. "See you later, Iseult," he yelled and waved, jumping into the cab.

That night, Jedi came up to my room and flopped on my bed.
I looked up from my homework, "You better not get any mud on my blanket."
"Oops," Jedi said as he pretended to wipe his sneaker on it.
I rolled my eyes, "Do you want something?"
"Well," he said, "it makes me want to barf telling you this, but Mase likes you."
I didn't fully comprehend what it meant when a boy liked you. It sounded nice to be liked, I wanted to be liked. "No he doesn't."
Jedi threw my Rainbow Bright pillow at me. He said in a sing-song voice, "Mase likes you, though I can't imagine why since you're such a dork—"
"Shut up," I threw the pillow back at him. "No he doesn't. Get out of here."
"Dork," Jedi laughed and sang, "Iseult's got a boyfriend, Iseult's got a boyfriend," all the way down the stairs.

After Jedi left, I couldn't stop thinking about it, Mase likes me. I liked him, too. I liked his confidence, that wonderful arrogance that teenage boys alone possess. I liked that he was nice to his elders; he made frequent trips to visit his grandma in her nursing home. I liked that he was so good at videogames. I liked him. A lot. What happens now? I thought. What are you supposed to do next? I pondered it and pondered it and came up with nothing. These feelings were so foreign to me. After that, every time I saw Mase, I didn't know how to act or what to say. It rattled me so much that I just ignored him. Out of my bedroom window, I frittered away many spring afternoons staring down at Jedi, Mise, and Mase as they played Frisbee or sat on the picnic table and drank iced tea, while I remained rooted there in my room, confounded by the aliens below.

A few weeks and several consultations at the library with Seventeen magazine later, I decided I was ready to talk to Mase. Seventeen coached me to "learn about what he likes," and to "show interest in his hobbies." That didn't seem too hard: Mase liked riding bikes, so did I. Mase liked videogames, so did I. Mase liked the Violent Femmes. I didn't now who they were, but was confident that I could learn to like them, too. Suddenly, this didn't seem like such a big deal after all. The only problem was that I didn't know when Mise and Mase were going to come around again. I didn't want to ask Jedi because I knew he would tease me mercilessly, but after a few more weeks of not seeing them, I had to know what was going on.
"Um, Jedi?"
He was sitting at his desk, lip-synching to Run DMC's "It's Tricky." I could feel the bass under my flip-flops.
I tapped him on the arm, "Jedi?"
"What?" he yelled.
"Can you turn that down?"
"What?" he yelled.
"Can you turn that down?" I yelled.
"Why?" he yelled.
He could be so infuriating sometimes. I reached over and turned down the volume on the tape deck.
"Hey! I was listening to that."
"I have a question."
"Hurry up. I'm busy."
"Well, uh, I haven't seen Mase—or Mise—around lately, and—"
"That's because they moved."
I stared at him, "They did? When?"
"Like, a month ago," he spun around and turned up the volume.

Run DMC, "It's Tricky"
From the album, Raising Hell
Purchased at Used Kids Record Store in Columbus, Ohio.