The counter looked wider than he remembered it. The girl at the register eyed him. She had seen him sitting at the booth. She knew he had a question.

—Uh…can I uh speak with the manager?

—Joanne! the girl yelled out. “Marielys” was the name he read off her lapel. Also the “Employee of the Month.” Her photo was up on the wall.

Bobby looked around to make sure he didn’t know anyone.

Joanne emerged from behind the swinging doors.

—How can I help you? she asked and then stepped back to take a better look. —Oh shit, Bobby Colón?

Joanne de la Vega, who Bobby had gone to sixth grade with. For years they were tight because they lived in the same building. Together they locked themselves in Joanne’s bedroom. When her mother was out working, they watched the nudie channel from the fixed cable box her father had installed, to laugh at how disgusting people were.

—Joanne? Bobby backed away.

Back when he was twelve, and she thirteen, and Bobby discovered that the slightest breeze prompted an erection, Joanne was there to witness it. The last time they were together was on the rooftop.

—Can I see it? she had asked and turned her head away.

—What? Bobby hadn’t understood the question at first.

—I’ve never seen a real one. And we’re like best friends. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.

—But…

Bobby had hidden his growing erection. He wasn’t ready to share it. He had just discovered it. It was bad enough he had to hide it from Dallas in the mornings. Or his mother, who didn’t think twice about opening the bathroom door without knocking first.

—Real quick. You can take it out and put it back in and it will be like it never happened.

—And what do I get? Bobby asked, trying to stall. He hoped it could be like when he traded baseball cards. But Joanne was asking for more than just a card from his collection. She wanted to expose him.

—What you want? she said matter-of-factly.

—Maybe you can let me touch you, he said, licking his lips. Bobby thought about the guys at school who wore the smell of a girl on their fingers like a trophy.

—That’s not fair, touching a girl is like third base. And seeing a guy’s penis is like watching the game from the nosebleed seats. No way, Bobby.

Bobby was nervous. She was standing close enough that he could smell her ice-cream breath.

—It’s not a big deal, Bobby. Look, it’s dying to come out, Joanne said as his erection poked up against his pants. She went to unzip him. Awkwardly he pulled it out of his shorts. She went to touch it. Bobby couldn’t hold it back. It exploded in her hand, on her jeans. She laughed. He turned around, pulling it back inside his pants.

Bobby had avoided Joanne ever since. Why had she laughed?

Bobby stood at the McDonald’s counter for a minute, wondering how he could leave without making a scene. He didn’t want to look at her face, but when he looked down, he noticed how big Joanne’s breasts had gotten, which turned the top of his ears red.