The Perfect First

by Hughes, Maya

  “Are you dating her?”

  “No, she’s not really the dating kind.”

  There was a sharp sound from the back of her throat. “I know those kinds of girls. I remember them well from when your father and I were in college together.”

  “She’s definitely not that kind of girl. There’s something she needs help with and I’m going to see what I can do to help her. She’s a little socially awkward.”

  “Aww, is she a nerd? I was a nerd.”

  “Was?”

  I could feel her eyes narrowing through the phone.

  “That’s how your dad found me, sitting under a tree in the quad reading when he smashed his ball into my face.”

  “Boundaries, Mom. I don’t want to hear about your extracurriculars with Dad.”

  “Hush. I know you have a game on Tuesday, but next weekend, we’d like you to come by.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “And bring the young lady you’re having lunch with since you’ve said she’s not one of those girls.”

  “At this point, Mom, I’m not even sure she eats, but it’s not that kind of meeting. I’ll talk to you later. Love you, bye.”

  I ended the call before she broke out the giant overhead lights and slid a clanking metal chair up to the table to begin the interrogation. Most people would love to have parents as in love as mine were. Sometimes they were slightly embarrassing, but no one could miss how much they cared about each other. It scared the shit out of me.

  That was the kind of thing you could lose yourself in completely, the kind of thing that could make you forget about all the plans and goals you had for yourself, where you were so blissfully happy nothing else mattered, until it did. Maybe not today or in ten years or even thirty, but how could you give up something you’d worked your whole life for and not eventually have that hit you in the face?

  Dad worked hard for my grandfather. He put in crazy hours sometimes and missed a good chunk of family stuff because of work. Wouldn’t it be better to make bank and then retire? Leave all that behind and then focus on family? At least that was how I saw it.

  I jogged down the steps to The Vault. I wrapped my hand around the outstretched one of the bouncer then we smacked each other’s backs and hit our shoulders together. He let go of my hand.

  “Haven’t seen you here in a while.” He sat back on his stool at the entrance.

  I’d hung out at The Vault a lot before. All I’d needed to do was sit back and the women came to me, but that wasn’t my focus anymore.

  “I’m meeting someone here. Maybe you’ve seen her, about yea high.” I held my hand up to my shoulder. “Probably dressed in a suit or something. Light brown hair, maybe all braided up.”

  His eyebrows jumped up. “You’re here to see her?”

  “Yeah, you’ve seen her?”

  “She got here like twenty minutes ago. She’s not really your type.” He smirked at me and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back on the wooden stool pressed against the wall.

  I shrugged. “I’ll catch you later.” What was I supposed to say? Stepping into the restaurant, I scanned the room. A few heads popped up and people waved. I nodded at them and walked around the bar, spotting Seph. She was studying the menu in front of her like it contained the cure for cancer.

  “If you stare at it any harder, you’ll burn a hole through it.”

  Her head snapped up and she smiled at me. “You came.”

  With the way she lit up when she saw me, I couldn’t have stopped the smile from spreading across my face if you’d held a gun to my head. Stepping out onto the field with thousands of people cheering for me didn’t come close to how she’d just made me feel—and that meant trouble, which was why sleeping with her was a one-way ticket to fucking up my future. You don’t sleep with girls who look at you like that and get away unscathed. Just look at my dad.

  “I said I would.” I slid into the seat across from her. “What looks good?”

  “Everything. I’ve already tried three of the menu items, but I’m going to need to take up running or something if I want to try the rest before Thanksgiving and still fit into my seat on the plane. I don’t have much time left.”

  There were those words again. I leaned against the table, used my finger to tug down the top edge of the menu, and held her gaze. “Are you sure you’re not dying?”

  7

  Seph

  I hated how my heart rate increased when Reece showed up at the end of my table. Hated the tingles in my fingertips. Hated the giddiness bubbling up and how much I’d looked forward to this meeting. I’d chosen the perfect table with a good view of the door, but I’d gotten so engrossed in the menu that I hadn’t seen him come in. That was one way to keep my mind off him—delicious, greasy, flavorful food.

  His smile turned my stomach into a baking soda and vinegar volcanic explosion. Was I smiling too wide? Was what I was wearing okay? I’d tried to go more casual and ditched the suit for a light blue button-down top and navy pants.

  “No, I’m not dying, but I’ll only be here for another year and a half, if I’m lucky. Seven months if I’m not, and Lady Luck is not usually on my side when it comes to my parents.”

  “Why would you have to leave Fulton early? You’re only eighteen. You’re transferring?”

  “Graduating.”

  “At eighteen?”

  I nodded. “Well, I’ll be nineteen, but yes, unfortunately that’s the case.” That was what happened when you started on your first college course when kids your age were taking Algebra I.

  “I should have known you were one of those geniuses.”

  My shoulders shot up and I hid my head behind the menu. “I’m not a genius. Einstein was a genius. I’m just really good at learning things quickly.” I’d hated that label ever since I’d understood what it meant and what people expected out of one.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s a genius.”

  “A genius would’ve known what a bad idea it was to put an ad out to the whole campus to lose her virginity.”

  He leaned back and picked up his menu. “Finally seeing the error of your ways?”

  “Perhaps, but I did get a possible taker out of it.”

  His brow creased. “Graham.”

  I dropped the menu. “You know him?” I stared at him intently. Inside information would make this a lot easier.

  “We had a few classes together freshman year. He’s fine.”

  “I think so too.”

  His lips tightened. “So he’s your guy?” Why did his voice sound like that? Should I not pick Graham if Reece turned me down?

  “Maybe.” I mashed my lips together like I was ready to devour them. “Unless there’s someone else who might be up for the task. I have a lot of things on my list, but I think this one would be a great way to kick things off.” I put down the menu and rested my hands on top of it.

  “Why are you in such a rush?” He leaned in closer, the smell of soap and aftershave wafting over from the other side of the table.

  “Were you a virgin at eighteen?”

  “What?” His face scrunched up like it was the most ridiculous question that had ever been asked and he made a psh sound. “No.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  The wheels started turning and the backtracking began. “Not that it’s a bad thing to still be one. There are tons of people who are still virgins.”

  The server came up to the table with his notepad. “Are you two ready to order?”

  “Not quite yet, but I have a question. How old are you?” I put my elbows on the table and rested my chin on my hands.

  He let out a little laugh. “I’m twenty-two.”

  “And when did you lose your virginity?”

  Both Reece’s and the server’s eyes went big and round. “You don’t have to answer that.” Reece tried to wave off the question. “Excuse her, she doesn’t get out much.”

  “It’s a perfectly normal getting-to-know-you type of questio
n.”

  “What the hell do you consider an intimate question?” I opened my mouth but he shook his head and held up his finger. “I don’t want to know.” His head swung around to the waiter, who was staring at me like a stiff breeze would carry him away. “Just give us a second and then we’ll order. Thanks.”

  The server nodded slowly and backed away from the table like it was covered in rattlesnakes.

  Reece leaned forward. “What is wrong with you? You can’t just go around asking people when they lost their virginity.”

  “It’s not something to be ashamed about.” Everyone else seemed to have done it already. I was certainly treated to a non-stop soundtrack of it in my apartment.

  “What if he was still a virgin?” he whisper-shouted through his teeth, pointing in the direction the server had retreated in.

  I stared at the guy’s glowing red cheeks. “I hadn’t thought about that. Point taken.”

  “You must be a barrel of laughs when you go out with your friends.” He dropped his gaze back to the menu, picking it up.

  I ran my finger over my thumb and stared down at my hands. Direct hit, Reece. “I don’t have any friends.” That had been a crushing realization a few days earlier, and it sucked even more now. My college career was off to a seriously depressing start.

  “I can see why.”

  I didn’t realize I’d made a sound, but I must have. Reece glanced up from the menu and his eyes widened. He started shaking his head immediately.

  “I didn’t mean that, not like that—not like something’s wrong with you.” He ran his hand over his face. “Do you really not have any friends? Like none?”

  Gathering up my bag, I slung the strap over my head. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry I made you come. I’m sure you have a lot of other things you could be doing right now.” I fought to keep my voice from cracking. Why did it hurt so much, like a sawing in my chest? I’d never felt like this back home. Glimmers of light surrounded by the dull monotony was what I was used to. Not this.

  Reece grabbed my hand, pinning it to the table. “Seph, wait. I didn’t mean it like that. It was my attempt at a joke and it didn’t work. I’d really like to have lunch with you. Please don’t go.”

  His pulse pounded against the top of my hand. The shooting sparks I wanted to blame on static electricity shot up my arm. Whenever he touched me, it was the same thing. I dragged my gaze from the table top with my hand sandwiched under his.

  He stared into my eyes. Sincerity shone in his, sincerity and concern. His thumb ran over the spot on my hand where my thumb met the rest of my fingers, a slow steady motion, like how you’d pet a scared puppy to soothe it.

  I didn’t want his pity. Dropping back down into the seat, I slowly lifted the strap of my bag back over my head.

  “How can you not have any friends? Really?”

  I shrugged.

  “Friends from home? High school? Since you’ve gotten here?”

  I stared down at the table, running my fingers over the dated wood. It had dents and nicks that had been lacquered over, giving the table an old yet still new feeling.

  “Making friends is hard when you’re homeschooled, and not the kind of homeschooled where your parents work with other parents to make sure you still have normal childhood experiences. I was homeschooled all by myself. Tutors were brought in. No extracurricular activities that were purely for socialization. Once I was beyond high school, I took college classes. My mom or dad would attend with me, sitting right beside me.” I glanced up at him. “It’s hard to make friends when you’re four to five years younger than everyone else and your parents are right there. Four or five years doesn’t matter much when you’re in your 20s, but when you’re fourteen and everyone else is nineteen, that’s a big difference.”

  “That had to be tough.” The pity train had pulled into the station.

  I shrugged. “There are worse things.”

  “You didn’t get to hang out with other kids your own age, ever?”

  “Sometimes, my mom would take me to the park. She’d let me play there if my dad was traveling. If I finished my work quickly enough, I’d get to go to my room, and I had some dolls my aunt gave me. That was about it.”

  “Damn, that blows.” He sat back in his seat, looking like I’d just told him I’d been locked in a basement for most of my life.

  “Don’t feel bad for me. I got to do a lot of amazing things. I’ve traveled the world with my parents. They want what’s best for me.”

  “But you didn’t get to have friends or hang out with kids your own age.”

  My latest sex-ile from my apartment came rushing back to me. “I’m learning that maybe I don’t want to hang out with everyone my own age. My roommate is….” I searched my brain for something other than a bitch. “Difficult, but I’m determined to tackle everything on my list, and I’m not going to let anything stop me.”

  “Tell me more about this list.”

  The server came back and asked for our orders. I’d been waiting to try these for a while. “Chili cheese fries, bacon cheeseburger, and a milkshake.”

  Reece’s mouth hung open, and he and the server exchanged glances.

  “What?” I handed over the menu.

  “Two grilled chicken breasts, broccoli and asparagus instead of the fries, and a water.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him as he handed the menu back.

  “I’ve already beat my body up enough this weekend. I need to treat it right. Tell me what else is on your list.”

  Pulling my notepad out of my bag, I flipped to the page even though I’d memorized it already. “You already know number one on the list, but I’ve also got: eat dessert for dinner, stay up all night watching cartoons, go skinny-dipping, go to a college party, get drunk.” I rattled off a few other things. “It’s a lot to get done and not much time to do it.”

  “Why do you feel like you have to do all this in seven months? You have the rest of your life to do those things.”

  “Tomorrow’s never guaranteed. We have no idea what the future will hold, so why not cram in as much life as possible while I can? At the end of the school year, my dad is probably going to pull some strings to get me into the PhD program at Harvard.”

  “You don’t sound happy about that.”

  “I would be, if it were on my own terms. Math has always made sense to me. Way more than people, math clicks in my brain. But, going there is what he wants, and I have no doubt that when I’m living back at home or only a few minutes away, my life will revert back to how it was before.” My stomach soured.

  “It doesn’t have to.”

  I pressed my lips together and a sharp exhalation shot out of my nose. “You’ve never met my dad.”

  “Fine, you’ve got seven months. That doesn’t mean you need to cram everything in right now, this weekend. You can take your time.” His gaze no longer held a hint of pity. There was a serious edge to his voice.

  “What if I don’t want to?” I’d been waiting my whole life for something, anything, to happen and I was tired of letting things pass me by.

  His forearm muscles bunched and relaxed.

  “This is about the sex, isn’t it?” And then the crystal clarity of his hesitation was dumped over my head like a bucket of ice water. The knot in my stomach turned to curdled milk. “It’s not that you think I should wait—you just don’t want it to be you.”

  “No!” He shouted and reached for me. His hand covered mine, though I’d tried to slip it off the table and onto my lap.

  “Seph, it’s not that at all. Of course I’d want to sleep with you, unravel those crazy braids and run my fingers through your hair while I—” He cleared his throat. “Let’s just say I’ve thought about it.” He pulled his hand back and sat back in his seat. “There are a lot of guys who’d like to sleep with you, probably enough that you’d be at least a little freaked out, but that doesn’t mean you would want to sleep with them. Your first time should be special. You shouldn’t rush it.�
��

  “Statistically, most women have horrible first experiences. It’s a lot of pain, blood, and awkwardness. I want to rip that Band-Aid off.”

  “Maybe it’s like that because people run into it headfirst. Just because it’s that way for a lot of women, it doesn’t mean you need to force it to be that for you. If you’re with the right person, it will be amazing.”

  “And you don’t think Graham is that person.”

  “You can find better.”

  “But you don’t want to do it.”

  “You can definitely find better.”

  “So you’re bad in bed?” I lifted an eyebrow. That was disappointing, but studies had shown that men who spend a lot of time in the gym aren’t the most generous when it comes to sex.

  “If there were a sex hall of fame, I’d be the first inductee, but I’m not a relationship guy. I’m not a cuddles after sex and curling up on the couch kind of guy. That’s the kind of guy you need.”

  “So where do I find one of them? Should I put out an ad for that?”

  “Would you stop it with the ads!” He threw his hands up.

  The server came back with our plates and slid them in front of us. The bacon and cheese oozed out of the thick golden bun on mine. It was greasy, meaty, and messy, everything I’d never been able to indulge in before.

  Pushing up my sleeves, I inhaled the salty, seasoned heat rising off the plate. I was ready to marry this burger.

  “If I don’t put out an ad, how am I supposed to find someone? Hand out flyers on the quad?” I picked up the sandwich and lifted it to my mouth. The juicy burger looked better than anything I’d ever had before. I sank my teeth into it and closed my eyes. My feet danced on the floor and I shook my head from side to side, savoring the flavor in my mouth. So good. There had never been a more delicious burger.

  I opened my eyes and Reece was staring at me with a funny look on his face, a floret of broccoli suspended in air on the end of his fork, poised just in front of his lips. His teeth sank into his bottom lip.

  “What? Do I have something on my face?” I covered my mouth with one hand.

  His gaze darted up from my mouth to my eyes. He dropped his fork. “No—I mean yeah. You have something on your face.” He pointed to a spot on the side of his mouth.