by Marilyn Grey
See, I kinda lied a little.
To Alistair, I mean.
I told him I'd kissed plenty of guys, but it's not true. My first kiss was with Donovan. The summer before ninth grade. We were in his pool all day until the street lights came on, then we got out and sat on the edge with one towel wrapped around both of us. He shivered and laughed about it, then I laughed at him laughing at himself.
Next thing I knew he wasn't laughing anymore. His face moved closer to mine. Mirrored in the waves of the pool, the night sky sparkled and the almost full moon lit the tops of the trees.
And his face.
He forced my to look at him. I turned, but kept my eyes on the pool.
"Jazz," he whispered. "I'm going to kiss you right now, whether you like it or not."
My pulse probably stopped for a few seconds. I just kept looking at that water.
He moved closer and put his hand on my neck. I wanted to jump into the pool and avoid it. But then his thumb touched my cheek and his lips landed gracefully on mine. He tasted good. Really good. And I liked it.
He pulled away. "I couldn't stop myself."
I shivered. He gave me the rest of the towel, but I wasn't shivering from the cold. It was the heat.
"Sorry," he said. "I won't do it again unless you want me to."
That was my first and last kiss. I know a few modest girls from school who prided themselves on saving their first kiss for their wedding day. But for me? It was embarrassing. Everyone, including Donovan, believed I had kissed at least ten other guys. One of those mumbling, "Oh, yeah, yeah ... no, really ... yeah, I've kissed plenty of guys," kinda things.
So add liar to the list of horrible things about Jane Austen.
No, not that Jane Austen.
I sighed. Why did I suddenly hate myself?
I wanted to enjoy my first kiss with an amazing guy. I wanted to kiss other guys. I really wanted to be different. Better. I wanted to be normal, you know. Either that or confident enough to stop lying about my life.
But it's like I had this huge concrete wall between me and guys and not enough desire to break it down.
Zoe tapped on the wall that separated our otherwise completely opened rooms.
"Hey," I said, quickly hiding the box under my bed and standing as though I didn't have anything to hide.
She moved the curtain out of the way and walked in. "Just checking in on you. Is everything going okay with the sewing stuff?"
"The boutique is fine." I nodded and sat on my bed. "How are you?"
"I'm doing better. My parents had this bright idea to do family counseling and it was an absolute nightmare. Why are you all wet?"
"Got caught in the storm." I pulled my hair into a loose bun. "You said you have issues with your brother, but what about your parents?"
"They're okay. They just ... they like side with him a lot and so that's never fun."
"How's their marriage?"
"Normal."
"Wish I were normal."
She laughed quietly. "What?"
"People always assume that I'm going to be some kind of boy crazy nutcase because my parents are insanely romantic and ... then there's my name. Sometimes having really good parents is hard too."
"Why?"
"Just all these expectations. My own expectations, but they literally haunt me."
"When your guy comes he'll be even better than whatever you expect."
"No." I laughed. "It's not that. It's that I have such high expectations for whatever being in love should be like that I don't even want to try. I can't let people in. The perfect guy could come along and I'll lose him. I can't do it. It's weird."
"That is weird." She shook her head. "Really weird."
"Okay, it's not that weird. I'm just saying."
"It's funny you always say that about your name."
"Why?"
"Well, you read about Jane Austen in school, right?"
"A little."
She stared at me for a second, then smiled. "You're totally serious."
I nodded.
"You're pretty similar to Jane though. She was all tomboyish and believed women shouldn't be all crazy about love."
"I'm not a tomboy. I wear dresses and stuff." Speaking of that, I needed to get out of my wet clothes.
She smiled and pointed to my chest. "I mean that."
"Huh? You're saying I'm flat chested?"
She laughed. "No. Your heart. You're a little wild. It just means ... like ... how do I say it ... it's like you're the type of girl to be more insecure about your personality and stuff than your looks."
I laughed. "Oh. Okay. I guess that's true."
"And ... your underwear is Batman underwear." She shook her head. "Wow."
I tossed my shirt to the hamper and grabbed my pajamas. Yes, the Batman.
"Your bra too?" she said. "They actually make Batman bras. Okay, so yeah, wow."
I smiled. "And now." I slipped my pants on. "Time for the Batman pajamas, baby."
"Whoever you find, if you find someone, will need to be a Batman fan, because if not they are not going to find you attractive."
"Zoe." I tried not to laugh. "You do realize that seventy-five percent of the things you say are extremely rude?"
She shrugged. "Like what?"
I waved it off. "Never mind."
"Hey, I got something for you." She handed me a jar. "Stick your finger in there and taste it."
I opened it and put some honey on my tongue. "Uh ... what?" I ate another hefty finger full. "What is this heavenly thing?"
"My friend Nicole gave me some local honey. I knew you'd like it."
I licked my lips. "It's incredible. Seriously the best honey I've ever tasted. I'm not even kidding."
"It's really good."
"Man, those must be some bees." I sat on my bed again. "Thank you."
"No problem." She slapped her leg. "I better get going. Meeting Nicole for dinner in a few. Want me to bring leftovers? Or better yet, want to come?"
"Nah. I think I've decided to stay home tonight and write my bucket list."
"Okay, I'll see you later tonight then."
I grabbed my sketch pad and followed her down the steps. She left and I got comfy on the couch, then started writing in no real order:
1.) Learn the violin
2.) Write and—
My phone beeped. An email.
Jane.
Alistair again. Not tonight. Not after everything with Donovan. I wanted to focus on my bucket list. On the way home from being abandoned by Donovan I had this intense urge to accomplish something and I thought ... what if I died tomorrow? I never liked the idea of a bucket list before. Some list to taunt you while you try to survive. Always making you feel like a failure. Then you die.
I wasn't so interested in that, but now I had a different perspective. Now I wanted to enjoy life and make time for new things, new adventures.
So, back to my list:
2.) Write and compose—
Beep. Buzz.
I know you think about me too. Sometimes. It's my accent, isn't it?
I smiled and picked up my phone, then wrote: Don't waste your time with me.
I waited, hovered above send again, then erased. What if I tried? Just once. Maybe test the waters of flirting. I didn't need to marry him. Just a little fun.
I stared at the empty email. And ... realized I had no clue how to flirt.
So, what does one do when one knows nothing?
Trusty Internet search.
How to flirt with a guy.
A ton of options came up for flirting without making it obvious. So I clicked on the fourth. For some reason I don't trust the first result in a search engine. I read a few and pretty much decided I never wanted to be a flirt. With advice like "trip into him and say, 'Woowee, those pecs are so hard I felt like it was a wall," and sit in a chair, arch your back, and run your fingers through your hair ... um ... definitely not for me.
People actually do that?<
br />
Back to my blank email. I mumbled aloud, "How can I be myself without being myself?"
"Pretend he's Donovan," I responded to myself.
"Ah, yes!" I said. "Wait, no. I can't do that. I'll pretend he's Autumn."
"Autumn! How is she? Haven't seen her in a few days."
"Yeah, that's because everyone around you is dating someone while you sit at home and write your bucket list."
"Point taken."
"Not like I could date him anyway, he lives across the ocean."
Another voice cut in, "Jane??"
My dazed stare shot down to my phone screen. I did what anyone would do when caught talking to herself. I hung up the phone.
Then, she called back.
"Hey, Mom," I said, as normal as possible.
"Jane? You called, but it was all muffled. I thought it was Edward at first."
"Oh, yeah, I was—"
"You were talking to yourself again, weren't you?"
"Maybe."
"How are things going? Do you need any help?"
"Things are good. Maybe you could stop by when I decide to open the place up."
"You know I'll be there. Dad too. How much longer?"
"Maybe two weeks. Waiting for some graphic tees to get here and need to do a few last minute things. Oh, also I wanted to meet with the lawyer friend of Dad's. Can you text me his number when we hang up?"
We casually talked a few more minutes, then I was in the quiet again, staring at my phone screen, at Alistair's email address, at that pesky blank email, at that iPhone keyboard with endless possibilities.
Then ... my thumbs started.
And this is what came out:
Dear Alistair,
Have you ever made a bucket list? I've never done it before. Always thought they were so stupid, but I'm making one now. Curious what five things you'd like to do before you die.
Can't wait to see you when the leaves start to change colors. ;) Are you still coming?
Love,
Jane
Did you see it? I put a winky face and said I couldn't wait to meet him and signed it Love, Jane. That is hardcore flirting in my world and it made me nervous as hell as I hit send.
But I hit send. I did it.
I flirted.
Moving on.
I almost finished writing number two on my list, but a sudden urge for sweets sent me to the refrigerator for a tall glass of milk and the chocolate chip cookies Zoe made the other day. Oh. Man. The girl may had been one of the most "out there" people I knew, but she could bake like you wouldn't believe.
Cookies and milk in hand, I went back to the couch and started to write when the phone beeped.
Dear Jane,
No bucket list for me, but top five would be:
1.) Write an album I'm proud of
2.) Meet Bob Dylan and have a long talk
3.) Stop stressing out and trying to fix stuff (and myself) all the time
4.) Visit a beach with clear water and white sand
5.) Learn to change the oil in my car
What about you? And hey, how's the tattoo? Get any more??
-Alistair ;)
Dead Alistair,
My top 5:
1.) Learn violin
2.) Write and compose a symphony
3.) Write a screenplay and star in it
4.) Direct a film
5.) Have my own successful fashion line with Batman-inspired clothes
Yep! Got another tattoo! I'll attach a picture.
How's everything over there? What have you been doing?
Love,
Jane :)
Jane,
I'm not dead! Haha!
Your top five is quite lofty. Write and compose a symphony?? Do you have any musical training?
And that tattoo! Blooming hell! You just got fifty times more amazing in my book. I'm a HUGE Batman fan! I love that tattoo. It's brill! Favorite Joker!
Jane....
-Alistair
What do you mean you're not dead?
No, no musical training.... I know I'm crazy. Dream big ... worst you can do is fail!
I don't just like Batman. I'm obsessed. My friend Zoe told me guys won't find that attractive lol... Oh well!
So what's this about you not being dead??
You typed Dead Alistair instead of Dear. I'm obsessed with Batman too. We should quiz each other on trivia and see who is the biggest fan!
Damn autocorrect. Why is it never correct???
Oh, I'll totally beat you in a Batman trivia show down.
Haha!!! Hey, I'm glad you messaged me back this time.
Sorry. So busy getting my boutique up and running.
Boutique?
Yeah. I'm in my own apartment now. In the city. Got my own store underneath. Haven't opened yet, but I'm working on it. Just selling my own clothing designs and stuff.
Wow. Wish I was that ambitious at eighteen!
It's been my dream since I was little. I've always wanted to do it, so I kept a notebook filled with plans. Everything from how to make a business plan to what to call it. It's been a long, long plan of mine. So it's not that admirable.
Yes it is.
Jane, my eyes are closing. Let's talk tomorrow. Download the app I'm gonna send a link for. Then we can text instead.
Love,
Me ;)
PS- I'm ready to beat you in the showdown tomorrow. Prepare thyself!
Oh, I forgot it was late there. Okay. Talk soon! No need to prepare!
I continued my bucket list with a smile I didn't know was on my face until Zoe came in said, "What are you so happy about?"
"Oh." I twirled my pen beside my face. "Just Batman."
"Batman?"
I nodded.
She handed me a container that smelled amazing. "Dinner."
I lifted the lid. "Thank you." I didn't realize I was hungry until I opened that container and stared at the lasagna waiting to be consumed. "You didn't have to."
"If I had to I probably wouldn't."
I laughed. "That doesn't sound nice."
"Why? I just mean I like doing it because I want to, not because I feel like I need to."
"I know, I know. Well, thank you. It's sweet."
I ate the yummy dinner as Zoe went to her bedroom. Then I took quick shower and settled into bed myself around 11pm. When I set my phone in the charge it beeped.
Another email. It said:
Jane....
I wrote back, Alistair....
And fell asleep with a smile.
So unbelievably odd for me.
But good too.
Chapter 19
The graphic tees came in and looked exactly like I wanted them too. I hung them on a rack in the store while Han helped set up some last minute things. Autumn was off with her person I hadn't even met and I told Brooke to take the day off for her daughter. Donovan hadn't spoken to me since the last incident, so it was just Han and me. Which I liked. She was peaceful and didn't seem capable of getting stressed. Which I was.
I was very, very stressed.
"Okay," I said as I put the last of the shirts on the rack. "I think we're done."
The bells on the front door rang and Donovan walked in, somewhat nodded to me, then took Han's hands. "Hey, I made reservations for dinner tonight. Are you ready to go?"
She looked at me. He didn't.
"Sure," I said. "No worries. I think I'm done here."
My phone beeped. A text from Alistair.What was Alfred's original family name?
I typed back, smiling uncontrollably. EASY. Beagle!
Him:Dammit Jane! I thought I had you!
Me: Ok. Give me a sex to think of a question.
Him: I'll ignore the typo.
Me: Lol. Autocorrect likes sex. Every time I write sec!
Him: Autocorrect has good taste.
Me: Thinking....
Han smiled when I looked up. Donovan didn't.
"Oh, just some Batman trivia with lov
er boy." I looked at Donovan.
His eyes narrowed. He was still pissed at me. I wasn't the one who abandoned him though. I should've been mad!
"Let's go," he said to Han.
She smiled as she walked by me and said, "Have a good night, Jane. See you Monday for big day!"
I nodded, keeping my eyes on Donovan as they walked outside. He normally turned to look at me whenever he left. Not this time.
I sent him a quick text. Don't be a jerk, Don. Our friendship is more important. I still love you. I'm sorry I hurt you.
I waited for it to say "read" just below the text, but it only said "delivered" for the next five hours.
Alistair and I ended the night with him leading 34 to 32. I told him I would come back with a vengeance tomorrow, prepared with even more difficult questions, then we said goodnight.
I didn't go to sleep though. I used my iPad to search for the most obscure questions and answers I could find, then finally decided to go to bed about an hour later.
Just as I found that sleepy place between relaxed and dead asleep, a text came through.
Jane....
Me:Alistair...
Him:Go to bed. Stop studying. You won't win.
Me:It's later there. You go to bed!
Him:Jane.
Me:Alistair.
Him:Goodnight.
Me:Goodnight. :)
I woke to a text at 4am. Half asleep, I reached over and grabbed the phone. Squinting my eyes, I turned the contrast down and opened the messages.
Donovan: It's all good jazz.... just stop being so annoying.
I smiled and went back to sleep, finally waking to a text from Alistair.
Should be 9am there. You ready or what?
I rubbed my eyes and sent, Just woke up.
I don't have a show tonight. First Saturday off in a while. How would you like to continue this challenge on the phone tonight?