The First Love

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by Erinne Bates


  I remember my mom asking her how old she was. She was twenty-one and would be twenty-two in a few months. I was going to be eighteen in a few months. The gap in our ages wasn’t as far apart as I thought. I remember my stepdad asking her about the town she was from and how her accent was much softer than we imagined it would be or had heard on tv and in movies. I remember watching her mouth move as she formed words and studying all the features of her face. I remember thinking she will never not be here. I remember standing in the doorway of my brother’s room and watching her unpack her clothes. My brother had moved out and into his first apartment at the beginning of summer. He was the same age as Justine, and he didn’t seem so grown-up to me. Not like Justine was, who had both poise and a significantly noticeable presence.

  I remember Justine asking me if I had ever been afraid to sleep in new places, and I remember, just after midnight, when all had been quiet in the house, Justine entered my room and climbed into my bed.

  “I’m frightened, do you mind?” she asked me in a whisper.

  “No,” I whispered back, scooting over for her but she stayed close to me as I moved. My heart was pounding and in my nervousness, I giggled.

  “Sorry,” she said, with a slight giggle in her own voice, then rolled over so that her back was to me. We were both quiet, but inside I had become wide awake with unexplainable intrigue. I stared at the back of her head disbelieving she was there.

  “Would you mind holding me?” she asked keeping her face turned away from mine. “I’m not trying to be weird – I have a little fear of sleeping in new places.”

  “It’s ok, I understand,” I replied, not wanting her to feel embarrassed, while inside I tried to squelch whatever was going on inside me that actually was weird. Holding my breath to calm my breathing, I draped my arm around Justine. Her arm folded over mine, locking our positions. While I did all that I could to prevent the rest of my body from touching hers, her feet suddenly kicked back deliberately and found mine.

  “You wear socks to bed?” she asked.

  “I guess so,” I said, feeling the bottoms of her feet press against the top of mine. It had never dawned on me not to. I always had.

  “Mine are so cold,” she said, her voice muffled slightly into her pillow. Soon, a soft snoring came. She was out. I lay stiffly on my side, my arm becoming uncomfortable in her grasp. I had to move it to relieve the burning in my shoulder. When I finally freed myself and rolled over, she did too, and this time her body slid right up behind me as her own arm swung across me. Her sleeping sounds continued immediately. I laid there, listening to her. I had had lots of sleepovers growing up and we never slept like this. I never even had a thought to, but that night as Justine had normalized it, I accepted it, adopting it, without question.

  She was not there when I woke up but came out of her room just as I passed on my way to the bathroom. She was dressed in her riding pants and wore a sleeveless button-down collared shirt which showed off her incredibly toned arms.

  “Good morning Calli,” she said cheerfully as I passed by. I felt a tiny jolt inside, hearing her say my name.

  “Good morning Justine.”

  She stayed behind me as I entered the bathroom. It was large enough for two to share, but I never expected her to follow me there. She brushed her teeth while I peed.

  “Did you sleep well?” she asked me. I had been staring at the top of my legs, afraid of looking anywhere else.

  “Uh-huh,” I lied, quickly wiping and rushing to yank my pants up before she saw anything. Then, pretending like nothing was out of the ordinary, I joined her at the sink to brush my own teeth. Just as my mouth was overflowing with sudsy toothpaste, Justine stopped me.

  “Do you want to see how we greet each other in Europe?” she asked me. I went to spit so I wouldn’t drool but she stopped me before I could.

  “Like this.“ She touched her right cheek to my right cheek and made a kissing noise. She then switched to my left cheek and did the same thing. I was pursing my lips together so as not to let any toothpaste out, which was now causing my mouth to also fill with saliva. Something about Justine’s expression looked highly amused as she said, “Now you try it!”

  I shook my head, trying not to laugh and spill the contents of my mouth.

  “Come on, again!” she urged, pretending to kiss one side of my cheek then another. She did this two more times until I could not hold back any longer. I spit into the sink and scooped water with my hands from the faucet.

  “Aha, I got you!” she laughed, grabbing both of my shoulders so I would face her again before I could fully wipe the water and suds from my lips.

  “Ok, for real this time. This is how we greet each other,” she said more seriously. And so it was established that at first greetings no matter what time of day it was, we were to promptly kiss each other on both cheeks.

  That very evening when I climbed into bed I did not wear socks.

  I laid awake in case she felt afraid again and wanted to come to my room, but my eyes grew heavy quickly after not sleeping well the night before. It wasn’t long before I was awakened by Justine’s whispers of apologies and explanation as she climbed under my covers and sided herself next to me. Her feet found mine and this time I kept them less rigid as I tried to warm hers. This time, I slept like a baby.

  I awoke alone again, and when she emerged from her room, I promptly kissed both of her cheeks. Honestly, I didn’t care whether it made sense. My life had suddenly become exciting to me. I felt joyful, inspired, enthusiastic. Not that those feelings didn’t exist before, they had become awakened in a way I had not yet experienced.

  The night before school started Justine came to my room and sat next to me on my bed. I was expecting her to join me, but she said she would allow me to sleep alone so I could rest well enough for school. My heart sank but I was unsure of why I was so disappointed, so I pretended to not be concerned either way. She then handed me one of her favorite shirts. She said if I wanted I could wear it to school. I could smell the almond-scented oil she wore, in the fabric, and held it to my nose. After that, she produced a gift bag. Inside was a tiny soft lamb.

  “I thought of you when I saw it,” she said. “A little lamb,”

  Today I can still hear her say those words. I’ve heard them in my heart from that day until now, twenty years later. Little lamb. It was the very words that made everything in my heart hers. And the thing is, I had no idea in that moment what was happening to me. I had never given thought to feelings that women shared between each other. I only knew that as each day passed, when she was near me, I had the most unexplainable feelings of luster and euphoria. More than anything, I ached to be close to her.

  Chapter 4

  Justine worked literally from dawn until dusk, giving riding lessons and training other people’s horses. Men from the Hunt Club began hanging around the barn too, waiting to talk to her after her day was over. They stood out because they were showered and clean-shaven and would stand near the ring she was teaching in. One guy started putting I Love Ireland stickers on his car, which Justine told me made her uncomfortable. I hated when I’d see them because I knew it meant she would not come home until late, but then more and more she spent what little free time she had with me. She would ask me to take her to the places I enjoyed most. Sometimes we would sneak onto the grounds of the Yacht Club after hours to soak in their heated jacuzzi. It wasn’t exactly “one of my favorite places,” but I suggested it regularly because I knew she enjoyed it at the end of a tough day. It was also just down the street from the stables so it was easy to get to when her workday was over. One Friday evening when it was very late, and we had just finished soaking in the steaming hot-tub, Justine asked if I wanted to go back to the barn for a ride when she noticed the full moon out.

  At the barn, we parked just outside the locked gate and hopped over the wooden rail.

  “Are we sneaking?” I asked, grabbing on to the side of her shirt to keep myself from tripping. It was incr
edibly dark from the parking area to the lighted stables across the barn. I felt this crazy sense of dangerous adventure yet a grin was plastered on my face.

  “No,” she whispered, walking quickly towards the small lights.

  “Why are you whispering then?”

  “In case we are,” she said then urged me to move even faster through the dark area. We were laughing and out of breath by the time we reached the horses at the far end of the stables.

  When I was about to get my mother’s horse she stopped me.

  “No,” she said, “Let’s ride together on Banjo. We can stay warmer if we do.” Fall had just begun and the night’s cooler temperature was noticeable.

  When she led Banjo from his stall, he was not bridled. He was only wearing his harness, attached to a lead rope, with just a blanket on his back. Justine led him to the mounting blocks.

  “Scoot closer,” she instructed me once we were both seated on Banjo’s back. I did and placed my hands lightly on her hips. I could smell the scent of chlorine in her slightly dampened hair and leaned forward to be nearer to it.

  “How are you steering him with just a harness and lead?” I asked her as we entered the perimeter trail we used for cooling horses. It was dark and difficult to see beneath the overhang that shaded the path from the sun during the day. Unconsciously, I gripped her tighter as though there was a chance Banjo would do something that would end with me sliding off.

  “God, you are pinching me!” Justine cried out, half laughing. I loosened my grip. Justine laid the lead rope on Banjo’s neck to demonstrate that Banjo was not planning on running off with us and that she was guiding him with her legs anyway. “I have ridden the entire jump course in the far ring without a bridle,” she explained.

  After we walked for a few minutes she asked, “Would you like to try a canter?”

  “Ok,” I said, then wrapped both my arms around her waist and tried to scoot even closer to her.

  “I don’t think this will make it easier,” she laughed. “It’s ok, you won’t lose your seat.”

  I placed my hands back on her hips, hooking my index fingers through her belt loops, as I felt Banjo break into a trot then quickly into a canter. Justine was right. He was smooth in his gait and had I wanted I could have held my arms straight out from my side like a bird and not lost any balance. But letting go of Justine’s waist was the last thing I intended to do.

  We didn’t stay at that pace since the trail was dark and full of exposed tree roots that crawled along the path. Had Banjo tripped we would have both been thrown from him.

  “You can put your hands back around me if you’d like,” Justine said once we returned to a walk. “The air is chilly.”

  A section of the trail ran along side a wooded area. To me, it was just a mess of overgrown vines and trees but Justine pointed out a barely noticeable gap among them and turned Banjo off of the loop and into this small opening. For a moment there was no trail or sign of a path but once the forest closed completely behind us a trail started and we took its path.

  “Do you know this way?” she asked.

  “No. I didn’t even know it existed,” I said, trying to make out objects around me. It was so dark beneath the trees I could barely see the ground and worried a low limb would strike us before it was seen.

  “Really? It’s lovely, I’ll show you.”

  We stayed quiet under the densely dark flora. Chirping crickets and katydids rang out from all sides. Banjo’s hooves crunched twigs and dead leaves which had fallen early in honor of the change of season. Occasionally a low hanging branch did cause us to have to lean forward to avoid being knocked off. I could not see the path ahead of us unless there was a break beneath the tangle of branches and vines allowing the full moon’s light to show through. Finally, the trail opened up, exposing a small pond where the giant moon cast its glimmering beams. It was beautiful the way the white light reflected on the still water. Frogs joined the katydids and crickets and all sang together even more loudly as we came upon them.

  “I love to hear them sing,” I said, referring to the chirping of insects. “They’ll be gone soon.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The weather is beginning to turn cold. It practically happens overnight,” I said.

  Justine and I slid off of Banjo and walked on foot toward the lake, where an old dock was waiting.

  “Is it safe?” I asked, wondering if the pilings were sound.

  “I don’t know,” she said, taking a step onto it. When she walked to the end, she motioned for me to join her. “It’s steady,” she said. Banjo was busy rummaging through the grass so I unhooked the lead rope so he wouldn’t step on it and joined Justine at the end of the dock, where we cautiously dangled our toes in the cool dark water.

  I sat close enough to Justine that our arms were touching. It was deliberate because the warmth from her was comforting in the cooler night air. But when she moved away from me, just a little, that we were no longer touching, I felt like the space between us was unbearable. My body stiffened until she returned to the position that we had started in.

  “Do you think there are crocodiles?” Justine asked.

  I laughed and said no, but likely snakes or snapping turtles.

  “We should have wine.” Justine looked out across the pond as though she was thinking something incredibly deep. “And you know what else? Baggles.”

  “What?” I had never heard of a baggle.

  “Baggles? I don’t know – Bagg-els... Your mother makes them in the morning. With butter—"

  “Oh Baaaygels,” I laughed, “Really, you want bagels right now?”

  “Well, yes.. don’t you?”

  “I can’t say I am thinking of eating bagels at this very moment,” I said, turning slightly pink.

  “So what are you thinking of?” she asked turning to face me. I thought about my response. More than anything I was wondering what it would be like to have her arms around me out here on this dock. But that was something I wouldn’t dare say out loud.

  “Go on! I’ll give you a penny for your thoughts,” she urged. As usual, I could hear the familiar musing in her voice. I blushed even harder, holding back the impulse to casually say something ridiculous like I’d like for you to wrap your arms around me.

  “I promise if I was thinking of anything interesting I would tell you,” I lied. Her toes swooped under mine in the water and lifted my foot up, then she pulled hers away causing mine to drop with a splash.

  “Shhh, you’re going to wake the snapping turtles,” she teased. “Let’s have a look at your little piggies,” she then said, scooping my foot up with hers again. I could feel the tiny prickles of hair from her legs.

  “Now tell me, before I feed them to the turtles.”

  “Have you ever been in love?” I blurted quickly, feeling like there was indeed a chance my toes would be fed to hungry turtles. Her leg stopped moving and gently lowered mine back to the water. To be safe I crossed them on the dock.

  “Is that really what you were thinking about?”

  I nodded.

  “Do you love someone?” My words came out like a betrayed utterance.

  “Why do you want to know that?” her tone had become gently inquisitive rather than playful.

  “Well,” My cheeks began to burn with redness and I prayed she couldn’t see it in the darkness, “I think that everyone who meets you wants to get close to you,”

  “How do you know?” she asked, her eyes as inquisitive as her voice had become.

  “I don’t know,” I replied, feeling like a kid who had just been called out on a dare. “you’re – I mean—and those guys are lined up like ” –I could only think to describe them as hyenas— “I guess I was wondering what it would be like if you loved them back...” my voice trailed off after my failed attempts at making one complete sentence.

  “Describe me,” she said in an even more serious tone, and then she touched my bent knee. I remember feeling very strange and n
ervous at that moment but not knowing why. Guarding my words only heightened my anxiety. All within a split moment, I thought of Justine kissing me and became aware of an intense urge to kiss her back and I felt scared like my body was going to do something. Maybe even vomit. She removed her hand and I was able to speak.

  “I don’t know how,” I muttered, refusing to look at her.

  “Can’t you think of something?” her voice returned to sounding as though she was being foxy and amused. I remember thinking at any moment she might touch me again and I sat frozen waiting, begging for it to happen. I tried to think of anything intelligent to utter, but what was I supposed to say? When I finally dared to look at her face, she was smiling kindly and searching my eyes.

  “Do you want to head back?” she asked, letting me off the hook. Relieved, and disappointed, I trailed behind Justine as we left the dock. When we reached Banjo I realized there was no mounting block to help us this time.

  “It’s alright,” Justine said. She told me to bend my left knee and locked her fingers together. She then hoisted me upward, which allowed me to swing my right leg over Banjo. I started to slide back to make room for her, but she told me to grab Banjo’s mane with my left hand and to reach across my body and grasp her forearm with my right hand. I don’t know how she did it, but with a step and a hop, her leg swung up and she was able to hoist herself onto Banjo behind me.

  “You lead us home,” she said.

  As we made our way back through the dark wooded path I quietly replayed the conversation between us on the dock. I couldn’t believe I had clammed up the way I did. I just knew Justine would only see me now as the idiot I was. Unable to have a deep conversation or even a normal one. I had completely humiliated myself. Just as I was halfway into my internal self-beating, Justine set her hands on my waist. I must have tensed because Banjo’s head popped up as though I had given him a cue.

  “All okay?” Justine asked from behind.

 

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