The Perfect First

by Hughes, Maya

  He shot me a look over the top of the glass. “She can do more. She can do better.”

  My teeth clenched tightly and my hands tightened on the back of the chair in front of me. “She’s always trying her best. I’ve never met anyone who works harder.”

  He made a noise in the back of his throat.

  The kitchen door swung open and Seph and her mom walked in, pausing for a second when they spotted her dad and me in our mini standoff.

  I plastered a smile on my face. “Let me help with those.”

  Her dad didn’t make a move to help, just sat in his chair at the head of the table and scrutinized every move everyone in the room made. Once all the food was out, Seph sat beside me and I took her hand under the table, running my fingers over her knuckles.

  “I’m glad you came.” She placed her hand on top of mine.

  “I’m glad you invited me.” Even if only to be there to run interference for a little bit. Her hesitancy about coming back for Thanksgiving and about moving back to Boston permanently made so much more sense now. She didn’t think I wasn’t good enough; she was terrified of her asshole father. With each passing minute, it got harder and harder to hold my tongue. He was still her dad, and knocking him out on Thanksgiving Day probably wasn’t what she needed right then, even though I was jonesing to do just that.

  I’d do whatever I needed to in order to prove to Seph that she didn’t need to prove herself to anyone, least of all the pompous asshole at the end of the table. Do this for Seph. Just get through the night.

  23

  Seph

  I laughed and rested my hand on Reece’s arm. My mom struggled with the overly large platter of sliced meat. He and I both rose out of our seats to help her, and my hand knocked into an object right in front of me. The white wine glass teetered on its edge and crashed down onto the table.

  The wine sprayed all over everything. Reece laughed. “Wild Child strikes again.”

  I laughed along with him; wine glasses and I did have a rather terrible track record. Then it registered that we were the only ones laughing. I wasn’t at his parents’ house or at the Brothel. I was home. Every muscle in my body tightened and I cringed, grabbing a napkin.

  “Persephone Elizabeth Alexander, it seems your time away has made you careless. Can’t you see what a mess you’ve made? You invite this friend”—the word was a sneer with disdain dripping from his lips—“and have lost all sense of how you should behave.”

  He pointed at the alcohol pooled on the dark wooden table like I’d gotten out a can of spray paint and tagged it. The carefree air that had invaded the house was quickly suppressed. I’d forgotten where I was.

  “Get a towel.” He slammed his hand down on the table and the glasses rattled.

  “Arthur, it’s—” Mom put her hand on his shoulder, but he shook her off.

  Reece’s hands balled up in his lap. His jaw was so tight, I swore he’d crack a tooth.

  I ran my hand over his. “It’s okay. I’ll be right back.” Hopping up from my seat, I rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a towel from under the sink along with a bottle of disinfectant spray. Raised voices came from the other room. I made it two steps when there was a bang so loud the plates in the china cabinet rattled. Rushing back into the dining room, I saw Reece’s seat was empty.

  “Where’s Reece?” My head whipped back and forth.

  My mom opened her mouth. Her eyes darted to the front door.

  My father stood at the head of the table with his hands pressed into the wood. “Your friend needed to get some air.” He said friend like it might as well have been a dirty word and sat back in his chair so hard it shot back a foot.

  I dropped the bottle and towel and ran out after him.

  “Persephone, get back in here.” My father’s voice followed after me as I rushed out of the house without even closing the door. Snow crunched under my shoes, and the freezing air sliced right through my sweater. Wrapping my arms around myself, I looked down the street. Panic rose in my chest, barely ebbing as I spotted him halfway down the block.

  I called out his name.

  He stopped mid-stride. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and he’d left without his coat. Turning, he wore a look of misery so strong I could see it from this far away. It was one I’d worn often, growing up in my house.

  “What happened? Why’d you leave?” Like I didn’t already know. Like I didn’t want to run away down the freezing, dead-quiet street with him.

  His gaze darted back toward my house. “I couldn’t breathe in there. I needed to get some air.” His jaw worked overtime, the muscle and sinew bunching and relaxing.

  “My dad can be a bit of a control freak sometimes.”

  “That’s beyond control freak, Seph.” He jabbed his finger toward the door.

  “It’s how he is. He’s always been that way.” I shivered. Small flakes floated on the air around us; we were in a snow globe with the tiny pieces of ice suspended inside our bubble.

  “That doesn’t make it right. He shouldn’t speak to you that way. No one should.”

  “I’m used to it.” Shrugging, I ran my hands over my arms. “Let’s go back inside. You forgot your coat.”

  His shoes crunched on the newly formed ice patches on the sidewalk. “You shouldn’t have to get used to it. That’s not how someone who cares about you talks to you. I’ll go get our coats and we can go.” He grabbed my hand, massaging his fingers along the back of mine.

  “I can’t leave. My mom’s still inside. I haven’t gotten to spend much time with her or even talk to her since I left.” Dad had been running interference almost like he knew that would get me back there to see her, and it had worked. Abandoning her with my father after leaving unannounced—no, I couldn’t do that to my mom. “This is my family.”

  “Persephone.” My father’s warning tone sent another shiver through me and my back went straight. My hand slipped from Reece’s hold.

  Reece stared over my shoulder. His hands bunched in front of him. “Let’s go. We can find a place to get some food. You can ride the team bus back with me, or if Coach won’t let you, we’ll take the train or I’ll rent a car. I don’t care.”

  He reached for my hand, but I snatched it back. “I can’t leave.” Leaving Mom was hard enough during the school year; I couldn’t abandon her to having Thanksgiving on her own with him.

  “The hell you can’t.” His hand touched the back of mine, but I took a mini step away. Hurt flashed in his eyes. “I walked out because I was a split second away from jumping over that table and knocking your dad out. He’s an asshole.”

  “Persephone.” I glanced over my shoulder. My dad stood on the front step of our brownstone with his arms across his chest. His gaze locked on the two of us with his disapproving glare set to stun.

  “He only wants the best for me.” It was the same excuse I’d said over and over on the nights I cried myself to sleep because of him.

  “He’s the reason you made your list, the reason you feel like you’re never good enough.” Reece jabbed an angry finger over my shoulder.

  “You don’t understand, Reece.” He didn’t. He couldn’t know when he had the perfect family. “We don’t all get to have a Disney sitcom family.”

  “My family has their problems too, but I always know they’ll be there for me.”

  “Everyone doesn’t get that funny, affectionate group that loves them no matter what. Sometimes things like that come with conditions.” He was so lucky. He didn’t even realize it. That kind of family was one in a million. Yes, my family was different, but every family was. I wanted to go with him, wanted to say screw it and leave without my coat too, just jump in a cab and go wherever he wanted me to go—but I couldn’t.

  He shook his head, and the sadness in his eyes brought tears to mine. “But they shouldn’t.”

  “That’s not always how it is. Yes, going to Fulton U was my bit of rebellion and so was my list, but this life was never one I thought I’d be
able to escape forever. It’s not a life I want to escape. You’re going to have your big shoot-for-the-stars-life too, and…well, this is mine.” Anger bubbled under the surface. He got to do whatever the hell he wanted and answered to no one. Not everyone lived that kind of life. Some of us had people to protect and expectations to fulfill.

  He stared up at the sky, a snowflake landing on his cheek, soaking up his warmth and dissolving into him like I wanted to. I wanted to run into the shelter of his arms and never look back. More snow gathered on his lashes and his head dropped, his gaze locked on mine.

  My throat tightened at the emotions swimming in his eyes. Resignation? Disappointment? Hurt? Maybe a bit of all three.

  “Please, Reece, come back inside. It’ll be okay.” We didn’t have much time left. I wanted to spend this time with him, even if it was under the cloud of my father. We could salvage this. Dad would head into his office not too long after the meal and we could all relax a bit more. It had already been two days without Reece, and that was two days too many. What happened when I wouldn’t see him again? My chest tightened, and it was hard to suck in a full breath with Reece in front of me and my dad’s oppressive gaze on my back. “Please.” I held on tighter to his hand.

  “I want to, but I know what’ll happen if I go back in there.” His jaw clenched. “I can’t, Seph.”

  I nodded, blinking back my tears. “I understand.”

  “I don’t think you do.” He shoved his hand into his pocket. “This is for you. I thought I’d save it until Christmas, but I want you to have it now.” With his fist wrapped around whatever it was, he placed it in my hand, his warm touch melting away some of the biting cold. He pulled me against him like a final touch standing on a train platform.

  Kissing the top of my head, he rested his cheek there for a second before letting me go. I watched him walk away, the stark silence of the street punctuated by my name being called out every few seconds. I stared down the street until Reece’s retreating figure disappeared from view.

  “Persephone.” I jumped at my mom’s hand on my shoulder. “Let’s get you inside.” She draped my coat over my shoulders and spun me around toward the house. Reece was gone. That was what I’d wanted, right? I hadn’t even wanted him to come, so why had I burst out the front door and chased him down the block?

  Inside the house, she took the coat off and hung it up in the closet right beside where Reece’s hung. My nostrils flared and I let out a slow deep breath. Get ahold of yourself. Calm down. It will be okay. Yes, he left—that’s fine. He was going to leave anyway. This is just a little earlier than expected.

  “I’ll get you some tea to warm you up.” And then she was gone like a ghost in her own house. The perfectly straight picture frames lined the walls, each one of our family looking like a sad Victorian-era transplant. White walls, beige carpet, beige furniture. The walls of the box were closing in with each passing second. I can totally still breathe just fine in this beige prison. I don’t need the distractions anyway. I’ll be fine.

  “These are the kinds of friends you make at school down there? And you wonder why we want you back home. You can’t be trusted to make important decisions on your own.” He must have kept talking because the drone of his voice and the barbs he slung kept coming, but I couldn’t hear him anymore. There was only the pounding of my pulse and the shallow breaths I gulped down.

  A thin chain slid out of the death grip I had on what Reece had passed to me. Opening my hand, I stared down at the silver jewelry. A circular pendant lay in the middle of the tangle of the chain. Flipping it over, I sucked in a shuddering breath and read the words: You are enough.

  They slammed into my head, so hard I was surprised I managed to stay on my feet. And then I did something I’d never done before. I left while my dad was in the middle of one of his diatribes. I grabbed Reece’s jacket out of the closet and climbed the stairs two at a time. Closing my door, I sat on the edge of my bed.

  With my knees pulled up to my chest, I stared out the window. The snow was picking up even more now. Was he warm? Had he gotten a taxi? They’d be hard to come by on Thanksgiving. How long was it until he left the city? Why hadn’t I gone with him?

  The gentle knock on the door took me out of my contemplative spiral. Mom poked her head in, holding a tray with a single-serve teapot, milk, and sugar.

  “Sorry I didn’t get up here sooner. Your father needed a little calming.” Her small smile didn’t reach her eyes. It almost never did when it came to anything to do with my dad.

  “Was it always like this, Mom?”

  She put the tray down on my desk and went about making the cup of tea. “Your father has never been a warm man, but brilliant men seldom are.”

  “Was he like this when you met?”

  She turned, and this time the smile did reach her eyes, but it was still tinged with sadness at the edges. “He was absolutely amazing in classes. He looked so nice in his blazers, and all the girls had crushes on him.” Her spoon clinked off the side of the cup. “I was a bit of a wild child at times, like your Aunt Sophie. All the girls wanted his attention, but for some reason, he chose me. It’s only natural that you change yourself somewhat for someone you care about.” She held out the teacup on a saucer for me.

  “But if they care about you, wouldn’t they want you to be who you are?”

  She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, a testament to just how frazzled she was. A hair out of place was a massive breach of the Alexander family expectations. “Sometimes they want to make you better.” The corners of her lips turned up, but I couldn’t even call it a smile. “I need to go clean up downstairs.”

  “I’ll come help.”

  “No, you enjoy your tea. Let me know when you’re finished and I can come get that.”

  I took a sip of the scalding hot tea. “I’ll bring it down.”

  “No, don’t do that. I’ll come get it. Your father’s still downstairs.”

  She rearranged the items on the tray.

  “I see.” Ah, so this was her way of telling me I’d effectively been banished and had to stay in my room. It was like when I was little and they’d send me up without anything to keep me occupied, all the books and paper taken out, my violin locked up. It was the worst thing you could do to a kid with an overactive mind, trap them in a space with nowhere for their energy to go, nowhere for their mind to wander or escape. That had been when I’d started the braiding.

  She closed the door behind her, whisper quiet, the same way she always did everything, never making a sound or disturbing anyone.

  Even with the heat turned up, my room felt colder than ever. I expected to see my breath suspended in the air in front of my face. Setting my tea down, I picked up Reece’s coat from the edge of the bed. I should have left. Why had I stayed? I didn’t want to leave my mom, yes, but more than that, obeying was ingrained in my brain, seared in through years of always doing what was expected of me. Going behind their backs—behind my dad’s back—to do anything that went against his vision for who I’d become was simply out of the question.

  Putting on Reece’s coat, I lay down on my bed, the quilted blanket on top cool against my cheek. I shoved the arms up so my hands were free. Sticking my hand in the pocket, I pulled out his gift.

  I stared at the pendant in my palm. The cool metal heated in my hand and I closed my fist around it, holding it up to my mouth. My shoulders shook and I didn’t even try to blink back the tears. What would be the point when I’d broken my own heart? The words inscribed on the tiny silver circle were ones I’d never believed, and I didn’t know if I could now. You are enough. So simple, just three little words.

  Was that what he thought of me? There were so many things I’d always felt were lacking, so many ways I’d never measured up. What if he was wrong? What if I wasn’t and never would be? That fear ran strong within me, but there was also a smaller thought in the back of my mind: what if he was right?

  24

  Reece

&
nbsp; I slammed my hand into the punching bag in the gym. Icy Hot, sweat, and disinfectant melded together into a smell that only lived in a place where people threw heavy weights every day, but the place was empty now. The heat kicked on, but it wasn’t enough to warm the space when it was empty.

  Each punch I landed echoed up to the steel beam rafters with peeling white paint above my head. I’d been seconds from laying her dad out. I’d never wanted to slam my fist into someone’s face more. The way he spoke to her—how could a father speak to his child like that? My parents and I had our arguments, but every word out of Seph’s dad’s mouth mouth was yet another dig at her, another thing she was doing wrong in his eyes.

  How had she even managed to think she could do anything right with someone like that constantly berating and belittling everything she did? Seph was ten times stronger than any guy on my team. Sure, we’d all had coaches yell and shout at us, had them make us run drills until we puked, but it was never because they thought we couldn’t do it. They were always trying to build us up. After a couple hours around her dad, I admired that she’d even taken the chance to leave.

  My fingers ached and throbbed. I imagined her dad’s face at the center of the bag. The flag the ref had thrown the day before when I’d charged one of the defenseman had come when I’d only let out about a tenth of the anger still pounding in my veins.

  She’d stood there and let him talk to her like that. Even her mom had looked like she was afraid to make a wrong move. The sometimes embarrassingly, over-the-top way my parents were together didn’t seem so embarrassing anymore, and Seph’s reaction at their house over a spilled glass made so much more sense now, the way she’d stared at me like the world was about to explode. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and make sure she knew everything would be okay.

  What would it have been like, growing up in her parents’ house? No wonder she was so cautious and didn’t know how to interact with people. How could you when you were worried every second that you might make a mistake?