First Love: A Superbundle Boxed Set of Seven New Adult Romances

by Kent, Julia

  His phone starts ringing again and interrupts the moment. He checks the caller ID and groans.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll be right back,” he apologizes, and he gets up from the table and heads to the lobby to take the call.

  I watch from the table as he paces back and forth in the lobby, and I can still catch bits and pieces of the conversation. It’s his mother.

  “No, I’m not coming home for spring break. Yeah, I said I would but I have too much work to do.”

  He lowers his voice, and most of his argument is too quiet for me to hear.

  “No. I’m sorry, Mom,” he finishes, and he hangs up the phone. His face is dark and angry as he comes back to the table again.

  “Was that your mom?” I ask, and he nods in reply.

  “Yeah, it was her again,” he answers tersely, almost as if rebuffing my interest in him, and I look silently down at my plate.

  “I’m sorry... that was really rude of me,” he apologizes after a long silence. “She wants me to come home for spring break.”

  “Are you going?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Why not?” I ask. I don’t go home either. I don’t talk to my parents very much anymore, and I haven’t talked to Micah in years. It just doesn’t work anymore, and it’s best I stay away.

  “I just... well...”

  The phone rings again, and I catch his angry glare as he shuts it off. It must have been his mother again.

  “Maria... I just can’t,” he answers, looking just as awkward as I usually feel. “My family and I don’t get along anymore.”

  His fists are clenched so tightly that his knuckles are white, and one of his wooden chopsticks snaps in half. He’s so tense that he’s trembling.

  “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m okay,” he says, swallowing hard. His lie doesn’t fool me for even a second.

  He’s hiding something just like I am, and I’ve never been so excited to be lied to before.

  ––––––––

  It’s dark outside when Owen and I finally part ways. He heads back up to campus to study in the engineering library, and I practically skip the entire way back to the west campus bridge where Tina waits for me. She promised she’d meet me halfway home.

  I don’t know what happened during dinner, but somehow I feel different now. I’m proud of myself for going out with Owen and I’m almost bouncing with excitement that I’ve met someone who I might be able to trust. I’m still not sure yet, but I have a good feeling about him.

  “Well look who’s all bubbly now! Looks like someone had a great night,” exclaims Tina, running up to me and laughing as I hug her tightly.

  I nod excitedly back to her, and we walk back down the hill toward our apartment together.

  “So tell me! How’d it go?”

  “We ate sushi, and I talked to him!” I gush happily, and she laughs. Her breath crystallizes in the air and trails off behind us into the freezing night as we walk down the long staircase to our apartment.

  “No, really. I talked to him the whole night, and once I got started, it wasn’t even awkward.”

  This is huge to me, and Tina knows it. This is the biggest step I’ve taken in seven years.

  Just last semester, I would have been paralyzed with fear even trying to talk to him. I remember how terrible I felt just handing in my test to him two weeks ago.

  A wave of heat washes over me as Tina opens the front door. In the blink of an eye—plus or minus some time for coats and shoes—I’m out of the cold and onto the couch with a steaming mug of hot cocoa. Tina takes a few minutes longer because she goes to get into her pajamas, and then—decked out in a pink robe and her intentionally flamboyant bunny slippers—she joins me on the couch with her favorite mug.

  I sip my cocoa in silence, savoring both the chocolatey warmth coursing through my body and Tina’s impatient glare. One sip... two sips...

  “Mmm...”

  “Oh come on, Maria!” whines Tina, bouncing up and down on the couch like a toddler.

  “Hey, careful. You’re going to spill my cocoa.”

  “I’m gonna pour it on your head if you don’t tell me how your date went,” she counters, giving me the eye. I love every second of her impatience. It’s not every day I get a chance to torture her like this.

  “Oh come on, it wasn’t a date.”

  I take another long sip and then put down my mug. The little blue penguin on the side waves happily up at me like he always does. I love my penguin mug.

  “You went out to dinner with a guy, had sushi, and talked for the whole night, right?”

  I nod.

  “Who paid?”

  I don’t remember. Wow. I don't think I even saw the bill.

  “Umm... I guess Owen did.”

  Tina rolls her eyes at me and takes a sip of her cocoa. Her splotchy clay mug is the only non-pink thing on her half of the sofa right now.

  “So you went out to dinner with a guy, talked all night, and then he paid the bill?”

  “Yeah, so what?”

  “Grown-ups call that a date, sweetie.”

  I sigh as I shake my head, and she laughs and tosses me a marshmallow. It makes a satisfying ‘plop’ as I drop it into my cocoa.

  “Okay... date or no date,” she continues, “I hope you had fun, at least.”

  “You have no idea,” I gush exuberantly. “It was the best night I can remember, Tina. I feel... oh, I don’t even know what to say. I’m excited and happy... it was all so wonderful!”

  I feel like my words aren’t strong enough to describe the nearly overwhelming happiness coursing through me, but I don’t know how to describe what I’m feeling. I feel like I’m alive again.

  “So do you like him?”

  “No!” I answer so forcefully that I surprise even myself. From Tina’s bemused grin, I can only assume that I’ve got a terribly confused look on my face, and it probably matches what I’m feeling in my heart right now.

  “You sure about that?”

  “...no,” I answer weakly, shaking my head. “I don’t know what I think.”

  “But you’re happy?”

  My smile spreads from ear to ear as I nod enthusiastically. ‘Happy’ doesn’t even come close.

  Wednesday, February 27 – 10:30 PM

  Owen

  I stare up at the ceiling fan as I lay on the floor of the living room. Its blades go around and around just like the thoughts circling inside my head.

  “Wow,” I whisper.

  What a night. What an amazing night! I can still hear Maria’s voice in my mind, telling me how scared she was that she wouldn’t go out with me tonight. Craig thinks I’m insane for sticking by her, but I don’t see it like that.

  The way I see it, I’m the luckiest man alive.

  I understand having fears—having dark secrets you can’t get away from—and I’ve never felt more special than when Maria told me how scared she was. She pushed through her fears tonight, and for what? To go to dinner with me? What the hell did I do to deserve someone so amazing?

  I close my eyes and thoughts of her fill my mind. She wore jeans and a plain, purple turtleneck to dinner, but if she was trying to dress down for the night, it didn’t work. All that the shirt did was draw my attention to her body even more. Everything that made her look so fantastic tonight came from her, not from the deceptive allure of an outfit. I hope she didn’t catch me staring at her too much, because I know I caught my eyes drifting down several times during dinner. I could barely help myself.

  Maria is absolutely gorgeous, and I loved every minute of being with her tonight—even when she started asking me about my family. I just wish... well, I wish that I wasn’t so screwed up that I can’t trust myself with her. She deserves a better guy than a mess like me.

  The phone rings for the fifth time tonight, and my blood runs cold as I check the caller ID. It isn’t my mother this time.

  It’s Dad.

  I let the phone sit
on the floor and ring until it goes to my voice mail, but it starts ringing again almost immediately. I should know better than to think that he’d stop. He’s going to keep calling again and again until I answer.

  I take a deep breath, get up from the floor, and answer the phone.

  “Hello?” I say into the receiver, pretending I don’t already know who it is. He doesn't buy it.

  “Your mother says you’re not coming home again. You’d best be rethinking that, boy.”

  The harsh growl of his voice immediately yanks me ten years back in time. I feel like I’m a child again and he’s towering above me, glaring down at me with hatred burning in his eyes.

  “I can’t come home,” I argue, pacing back and forth. “I have a job and don’t get vacation days.”

  “I didn’t ask for your excuses, you stupid son of a bitch,” he snaps back at me. “Your mother ain’t seen you in four years, and if I have to, I’ll drive up there and haul your ass back here myself.”

  “I’ll talk to my boss again, but...”

  I start to shake as I sit down at the dining room table. I’m cracking already. I can’t even stand up to him from almost four hundred miles away.

  “You’re coming down here. No buts!” he shouts over the line. “In case you don’t remember, you and I’ve got a score to settle, boy.”

  All I can do is shake in silence and listen. What score? I wasn’t even home for most of that last summer! I worked at three jobs all summer long just to stay out of the house, and then I got on the bus to Cornell the first chance I had. There was never a chance for me to do anything wrong!

  He’s insane. He’s completely insane.

  “I know when your break starts, and if you ain’t home by then, you’re gonna be getting a visit from me,” he hisses, and then he slams down the receiver before I can say anything else.

  I lean my head on the table as my heart pounds in my chest. Terrible thoughts and memories I can’t escape from start crawling out from dark places inside me.

  “Come on... calm down,” I whisper, trying as hard as I can to relax. It isn’t working.

  I’m back home in the basement office, and I’m seventeen again.

  “Are you crying?” he screams as he slaps me across the face again and again. “Did I raise a son or a fucking pansy? Shut the fuck up, you worthless...”

  He’s so angry that he can’t even finish his sentence to keep swearing at me. He grabs me by the back of the neck and slams me hard against the slate chalkboard hanging from the wall. Something cracks—I don’t know if it’s the chalkboard or my face—and then he throws me down on the floor.

  As I try to get back up, I see the deep red pool forming on the white tile beneath me. I reach up to my nose and my hand comes back covered in blood.

  “Get the fuck up, boy!” he snarls, and he kicks me in the chest.

  The sound of my pencil snapping between my teeth pulls me out of the nightmare and back to the dining room. I spit out the fragments of wood and look down in disgust at the broken pencil. My hands shake with pent-up anger and frustration, and it’s all I can do not to cry.

  “I can’t even break a filthy childhood habit,” I whisper, my voice seething with self-hatred. “What fucking good am I?”

  I slam my hand hard against the wooden table in a rage, and the table creaks as searing pain shoots through my arm.

  “Oh damn it!” I gasp in pain as I cradle my injured hand. What is wrong with me?

  I can’t hold it back anymore. My head drops to the table and I start to cry. The pain is horrible, but even worse is that all it took was one phone call for Dad to crush me. All he had to do was pick up the phone and he pulled me straight back into Hell again.

  I've been running from myself for years, never going home, trying to forget my life even existed before college started, and it just doesn't work.

  Waves of agony keep shooting up my arm, and when I finally calm down enough to stop crying and wipe away the tears, I realize that my hand is starting to turn black. I’m definitely going to need an ice pack. I try to move my thumb and bite my lip against the unbearable pain that surges through me. I really hurt myself this time.

  This is why I need to stay away from Maria. Dad’s not the only nutcase in my family... what if I lose control and hit her? I could never forgive myself.

  Besides, why would a girl like Maria want to deal with a mess like me?

  I wrap my hand in an ice pack and sit down on the couch as I try to put myself back together again. Humpty Dumpty’s got nothing on me.

  “I’m not always a spineless wimp,” I think as I lie back and stare at the ceiling. I knocked that snowboarder on his ass for harassing Maria, after all. That has to count for something, right?

  Samantha’s angelic smile flits across my mind, a memory from so very long ago. Somehow, I think she’d be proud of me.

  Friday, March 1 – 2:30 AM

  Maria

  My pulse pounds in my skull as I bolt upright in bed, screaming in terror. I’m covered in sweat, and my heart races at a million miles an hour.

  I’m in my own room. I’m in college.

  “Oh thank God,” I think, taking a deep breath of relief.

  I reach under the pillow and retrieve my green notebook. I have to write this nightmare down. It’s probably in the book a hundred times already, but one of these days, it’ll stay there.

  I hear Tina’s light footsteps running down the hall and the sound of my doorknob turning, but I pay no attention to her. I have to write.

  Darren won’t stop staring at me. I’m so uncomfortable, but he keeps looking at me.

  “You’re sure your brother isn’t coming home until tonight?” he asks, and a chill runs through my body. Something about his voice terrifies me even more than usual.

  “Um... maybe he’ll be back earlier,” I lie. I know he won’t. He said five o’clock at the earliest.

  Darren sits down on the couch and the cushion shifts beneath me. I feel as if I’m going to slide into him. I focus very hard on my book, trying to pretend that my heart isn’t racing and that he’s not staring at me as if I’m his favorite food.

  “How long are you here?” he asks. I can still feel him staring at me.

  “Just until tomorrow,” I say, and then I add, “That’s okay, right? Micah didn’t mention that you lived with him. I didn’t know he had a roommate.”

  I’d never have come if I’d known he lived here.

  “Hey, no problem by me,” he says, putting his boots up on the table and spreading out on the couch. “Cute girls are always welcome here.”

  If he meant that as a compliment, it didn’t work. All it did was creep me out even more. I’m acutely aware of one of his arms running along the back of the couch behind my head. I’m starting to sweat, and my chest tightens as he yawns, stretches his arms, and brushes a hand through my hair.

  I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, trying not to shake. If he meant to touch my hair, he’s sure not giving any sign of it. Maybe I’m being too nervous. It could have been accidental.

  No sooner do I start to believe myself than he pulls his arms back and touches his fingers against my leg, just below the bottom of my skirt. His fingers barely lift up my skirt as he runs them ticklishly up my leg.

  “Oops, sorry,” he apologizes, snatching his hand back. He doesn’t sound convincing at all.

  My hands start to tremble so much that I can’t focus on my book anymore. There’s no way that he just accidentally ran his hand up my thigh. A touch? Maybe. Lifting my skirt? I don’t believe him for a second.

  I look up at the clock—it’s not even noon yet.

  “I think I’m going to go upstairs for a bit,” I tell him, my voice wavering as I get up from the couch. “It’s been nice talking to you.”

  Without a word, he gets up as well.

  I hurry up the stairs, but with each step, I hear the deep ‘thud’ of his boots coming up behind me. Why is he following me? Oh Jesus... Micah! Ple
ase, dear God make him come home early!

  I look over my shoulder at him, my legs shaking so much that I can barely walk, and see him following me down the hall. He’s still staring at me in the same disgusting, dehumanizing way he always used to—like I’m not a fifteen-year-old girl, but instead a delicious cut of meat he can’t wait to dig into.

  I fumble nervously with the doorknob to Micah’s room for just a second too long, and I can’t get it closed before he reaches it. He pushes the door open, comes in after me, and closes the door.

  My heart feels like it’s going to explode in sheer, abject terror as he locks the door behind him and turns back to me with that horrible smile of his.

  I’m trapped in here with him.

  Tina hugs me as I close the book, and I start to cry.

  “Talk to me, sweetie,” she whispers, squeezing me tightly.

  “Fuck you, Darren,” I sob, shaking and burying my face in her shoulder as she holds me. “Fuck you!”

  “Darren’s gone, Maria,” she whispers in my ear as tears pour down my face. “He was horrible, but he’s gone forever now. You’re safe again.”

  I shake my head, still unable to stop crying long enough to get a word out, but Tina already knows what I was going to say.

  “Owen’s not like Darren,” she tells me, her voice calm and soothing as she runs a hand slowly through my hair. “You can trust him. I know you feel like you can’t, but please believe me.”

  Darren still dominates my life seven years later, and I hate him for it. I hate him more than anyone else in the world.

  "I was a little girl!" I sob. My voice is hoarse and ragged from crying. "What the hell did he even want with me?"

  "It's all about power," answers Tina calmly, still holding me tightly. "He wanted to feel strong by hurting you."

  She runs a hand through my hair as she embraces me, and her touch starts to calm me down as the nightmare fades.

  "He hurt you just so he could feel like he controlled you, and I hope he rots in Hell for it," whispers Tina.

  Her voice is calm and quiet, but behind the whisper is a sharp, angry glint. I don't doubt for a second that, if Darren were here right now, she'd tear him to pieces.

  I don’t know when I fell asleep, but suddenly my alarm clock goes off and I wake up with a terribly stiff neck. I’m leaning back against the bed frame with Tina’s arm still around me and my head on her shoulder. She’s stroking my hair as if I’m her daughter.