First Loves: A Collection of Three YA Novels

by Jolene Perry

  “You could offer me a snack or a drink or something.” She leans toward me, not a lot, just enough to keep me going. “I mean, unless you want to drop me off and be done.”

  “I have snacks. No drinks. My dad was an alcoholic and he sees enough at work. We don’t keep any in the house.” Will she think that’s weird?

  “Well, I don’t drink, drink so a Pepsi would be great.” How old is she? And is she inviting herself to my house? And why am I worried about this?

  I take a hard swallow to find my voice again. “I have Pepsi.”

  “Then yes, I’d love to come swimming with you.” Her eyes narrow. “What’s your name? I can’t believe I didn’t even ask.”

  “Jameson.”

  She laughs again, showing me a big smile of white teeth. “So, like, do people call you James for short?”

  “Nope, just Jay.” I’m still in shock that I’m about to take this girl back to my house for a swim.

  “Well, Just Jay,” she mimics me before laughing. “I’m Sky.”

  “Sky?” Really? But now I realize I probably sound like a prick.

  “My mom is into her native roots. So yeah, Sky.”

  “I kinda like it.” Did that save me? “Did you grow up on a reservation and everything?”

  “I’m half Tlingit, from Alaska. We have corporations, not reservations.”

  “Oh.” I’m lost and feel like an idiot.

  “But I grew up in a small village. Does that make you feel better?” She punches me softly on the shoulder. “That I’m not totally outside of the stereotype?”

  “Definitely.” I look her straight in the eye. I don’t know if it makes me feel better or not, but I also know I feel a step behind and don’t want to. Sitting in my dad’s car while a very pretty girl flirts with me doesn’t feel real.

  “Are you gonna drive me to your house, offer me a Pepsi, and get me into your pool?”

  I laugh in nerves and excitement and hit the gas. Maybe my night won’t be so bad after all.

  - - -

  I step out of the house in my swim shorts, with a Pepsi in each hand and towels under my arm.

  “Thanks.” And I swear she checks me out.

  It could just be my over-hopeful, over-active imagination, but I’ll take it anyway.

  “So.” She gestures with her hand from my head to my feet. “You look totally comfortable in front of a stranger, almost completely naked.”

  “I’m on the swim team.” And I’m not totally comfortable. I’m just used to being uncomfortable.

  “At your high school, huh?” She lets out a sigh.

  “I’m a senior.” I wonder if she’ll just take off. If I’m too young.

  “Hmm.” She pops her Pepsi, and takes a few drinks.

  I’m not sure what to do with myself. This whole situation feels a little unreal. The backyard is all the same. Large stone patio, scattered lawn furniture, long pool for laps…and then there’s Sky who looks like she stepped out of a movie, or a music video set, or...

  “Well, let’s swim.” She stands up, slides her denim skirt off and two of what now looks like three tank tops. Her nearly black hair is past her shoulder blades and she’s standing in my backyard in panties and a barely-shirt. She walks in light, almost sliding steps and jumps into the water without hesitation.

  And because I’m a bit of a show-off, I wait until her head emerges before doing a leaping dive into the water. The warmth hits my skin and immediately dissolves some of the surface tension. This, I can do.

  “Nice. You put me to shame.” She laughs as I come up for air.

  “Do you have a pool?” I ask, trying not to dwell on the compliment.

  She stretches out on her back, floating, looking up.

  “Funny story, actually.” She continues to stare at the sky. “My grandparents do have a pool, but they don’t want to pay for the water or to maintain it.”

  “So you have a pool in the backyard that’s sitting empty?”

  “Pretty much.” She stands up, staying low in the water.

  “That sucks.”

  “You said it.” She leans back until she’s floating again and I follow her lead, letting the water hold me up.

  And now I want to ask her if she wants to come swimming again, but I chicken out. Honestly, I have no idea what to say, but we’re both here and floating, staring at the sky, and that feels okay, too. Well, more than okay. Awesome.

  Neither of us speaks for a while. The road noise carries into my backyard like always, and there’s an occasional door slam or dog back, but as far as living in the city goes, it’s pretty quiet. Every once in a while I feel the water push against me, and I know she’s using her hands or feet to propel her one direction or another. I open my mouth to ask her where she’s from, but stop. Maybe that would be prying. The story of my night and losing Sarah also nearly escapes my lips, but what stranger wants to hear another stranger’s sad story?

  I stay quiet. She stays quiet. And we float. But every nerve on my skin is on edge, just waiting for something between us to shift.

  When I hear the water ripple, I stand. She’s watching me, which makes me a bit self-conscious. I mean, I guess that’s not really fair since I was totally trying to see as much of her as I could before she jumped in the pool.

  “So, are we going to get together again?” A corner of her mouth pulls up. “Or, have I scared you away forever?”

  “You haven’t scared me away.” Standing in my pool, in my backyard with a girl who looks like… I don’t know… But she’s gorgeous. It’s kind of erotic or something. Exciting. Different.

  “Here’s all I need from you, Jay.” She steps closer.

  Closer to me. In the pool. Wearing next to nothing. My heart sprints. “What’s that?” Does my voice sound normal? Because this night feels anything but normal.

  “Be honest. All the time. No matter what.” There’s suddenly a softness to her that I want to see more of.

  I open my mouth to say easy, but then I think about how long I’ve been in love with Sarah and never said anything.

  “Oh, man.” She lets out a light chuckle. “You can’t do it. That really sucks cause I like you, Jameson.” She starts to swim away.

  “I like you, too.” It just comes out. She’s so relaxed. She’s going to tease me no matter what. Might as well tell the truth.

  “Nice. Maybe we can be friends.” She turns in the water to face me. I wish I could read her better, because the tease is still in her eyes, but her face seems totally relaxed.

  “Friends.” It comes out flat. Did I just say that?

  “What’s wrong with friends?” She laughs.

  “I…”

  “Truth.” She points.

  “I’ve been in love with my best friend since tenth grade and like a moron I helped her to get the guy she wanted and…” But I don’t want to finish.

  Her face falls. “And it worked.”

  “It worked.” And it punches into me again, just saying it out loud.

  “Sucks.”

  “Yep.”

  She swims to the side of the pool and climbs out. I stand here kind of wishing she’d left on the white tank instead of the black one. And why is it different that she’s in panties instead of a suit? It’s not like one covers more than the other, but it’s definitely different.

  “Thanks for the swim.” She sits on a long lawn chair, but doesn’t rest onto it. She’s on the edge, still in her panties, with her elbows on her knees. “It’s still freezing out here.” She pulls a towel over her shoulders.

  It’s March and cold for swimming, but Mom and I use the pool year round. “You’re welcome.” I slide easily out of the pool and sit on the chair across from her.

  “So, this girl.” Her hands are on her shoulders, holding the towel tightly.

  “Sarah.” Who I don’t want to talk about.

  “This, Sarah. You’ve known her a while?” We’re facing one another. Our faces are a little too close for normal conversati
on and people who just met. Her warm breath hits my face. I love it.

  “We’ve been close for a few years.”

  “But now she’s with someone else.”

  “Yep.” The stupid picture of her and Eric dancing hits me again. I wince at the memory.

  “When did that happen?”

  “What time is it?” I ask.

  “Shit. Sorry.” She leans forward in the lawn chair. Still in her panties and tiny top. And I really should stop thinking about that. “This is going to be a pity kiss, but I promise that if we kiss again, it won’t be.”

  Is she kidding? I’m not sure what to say. But turns out, I don’t have to say anything. Her lips are soft on mine and warmer than me. She opens her mouth. She tastes like cherry Pepsi and I put my hand behind her head to keep her close. Her kiss hits every part of my body, sending shocks waves of the unexpected through me.

  “Okay.” She pulls away. “You are way too good at this to be… How old are you?”

  “Eighteen next week.” My voice squeaks. My voice hasn’t squeaked since seventh grade.

  She laughs.

  Am I allowed to ask her age? Probably not. But she’s older, I know this much. Now I just need to play it cool. “So, the next kiss won’t be a pity kiss?”

  “Nope.” She stands up. “And it also won’t happen tonight. Turn around, I’m going to put my dry top on.”

  “You’re just going to strip? Right here?” Okay, I cannot let that thought hit too hard. And next kiss. I really want to feel her mouth on mine again.

  “As soon as you turn around.” She twirls her finger between us to signal me to move.

  I do as asked. I hear the slap of her wet shirt as it hits the side of the pool and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to turn around. Instead I imagine it. I imagine her bare browned back, and small black panties.

  “Okay.”

  I turn around. Her skirt is back on and her wet tank is in her hand.

  “I’m dry and still freezing.” She chuckles as she rubs her arms.

  “Just a sec.” I jog into the house and grab a hoodie for each of us.

  “Here.” I hand over a sweatshirt.

  “Very decent of you.” She smiles and slides it over her head. It’s huge on her, but she looks squeezable in all the extra fabric. And there’s something about her wearing my shirt that makes me feel, warm, helpful. I don’t know what it is, but the feeling’s good.

  I shiver once with goose bumps and slide the other sweatshirt over my head.

  “You’re gonna walk me home, right?” How does she look fluid, even while she’s just standing still?

  I slide on my flip-flops. “Yep.”

  “I’m glad I ran into you.” She walks to the gate at the side of the house in these gliding movements that make me want to sit and watch.

  “Me, too.”

  “Maybe it’ll happen again.”

  “It’ll happen again.” I’ll make sure it does.

  “See? Look at all this honesty. It practically pours out of you.” She looks over her shoulder.

  “Practically.” I reach out and take her hand. Then stare at the cement sidewalk like it’s no big deal.

  “I’m only letting you get away with this because of your friend.” But her hand squeezes mine.

  “I’m okay with that.” It’s like her being so forward, makes it okay for me to be the same way. I should be this way with Sarah, but I’m not, and I have no idea why this is.

  Sky laughs.

  Maybe honesty really does work.

  “This isn’t my normal,” she says. “I just want you to know that. Sometimes we just need to do something different.”

  “I agree.” I don’t even realize I actually agree until the words were out of my mouth. But I’ve had the same routine and the same friends since I can remember. This night is…was…is… It’s not something I’m going to forget.

  We stop at the end of her driveway.

  “Thanks, Jay.”

  “Thanks, Sky.” Do I dare? “How bout my non-pity kiss, now?”

  She laughs as she drops my hand and backs away. “Nice try. That one you have to earn.”

  And earn it I will.

  But as soon as she goes inside, the little bubble of happiness that surrounded her follows and I’m drowning again.

  I turn for home. What will change with Sarah and I? Is she going to be dating Eric come Monday after spring break? Will I see her over spring break? Will she call me tomorrow and give me details about her night that I don’t want? I’m not sure. I’m only sure that it sucks to be asking these questions.

  THREE

  Why won’t anyone stop the buzzing? It’s horrible, vibrating…

  It’s my damn phone.

  I roll over in bed and reach for the table.

  Sarah.

  Am I ready for this? No. Probably never will be.

  “Hey,” I answer.

  “You sound terrible.” She laughs. “You know it’s like one in the afternoon, right?” I love her voice, all childish sweetness, mixed with something indefinable. “No. I was sleeping.”

  “Your family, I swear. My dad still has his nine AM no-matter-what rule.” I can picture her perfectly. Her small round face is pulled into the annoyed scowl that makes me want to smooth out her forehead with my fingers. Her lower lip is probably pushed out in a bit of a pout and her freckly cheeks will still hold the hint of a smile.

  “Yeah.” I’m wide-awake now and wish I wasn’t. My chest is still hollowed out today, but it’s raw, too. Talking to Sarah just scratches at the edges.

  “Wow, you’re talkative this morning.”

  “That’s what happens when you wake me up.” I know she wants me to ask about her night, but I can’t do it.

  “Aren’t you gonna ask me about my night?” The edge of excitement is there. The edge that makes me nauseous.

  “Why don’t you just tell me?” I let the words out in a sigh.

  “Geez, you’re a ray of sunshine today.” Now I bet her small lips are pulling down and she’s trying to make her eyebrows look mean, when really it just makes her even cuter.

  I’m being a jerk. No matter what happened, I can’t stop being her friend. “Sorry, Sarah. Tell me everything.” I hope it doesn’t kill me.

  “It’s official.” She squeals and I pull the phone from my ear. It doesn’t help. Her squeal strikes right into the jagged wound from yesterday. “We kissed and then we stayed up all night talking. He drove me home and was so nice.” She breathes out this totally girly, happy sigh.

  I press my fingers against my eyes, because, believe it or not, it actually does hurt worse than last night.

  “Well?” She’s waiting for my response.

  Right. This is where I’m supposed to say something really sweet and supportive. “That’s…great.”

  “You’re supposed to be more excited for me, Jamesy.” Her voice has a teasing edge, but it also sounds hurt. She’s called me Jamesy since I can remember. I love and hate this nickname she’s given me. Love it, because it’s so Sarah—a little juvenile and silly, and probably now hate it for the same reason.

  “You’re happy, I’m happy.” Is that true? I guess parts of it are.

  “Aw, don’t worry, Jamesy, we’ll still hang out.”

  She thinks I’m worried because we won’t hang out anymore.

  How many times did I have the opportunity to tell her I liked her?

  Too many to count.

  How often was it just her and I?

  All the time.

  I mean, we have other friends, but we don’t spend time with them because we have each other.

  Had.

  And now I’m screwed because she’s with someone else and thinks I’m bummed because I might lose my friend.

  “Course we will.” I try to laugh, but end up coughing.

  “Okay.” She giggles. “This is going nowhere. You obviously need more sleep.”

  “Yeah.” That’s just what I need. More sl
eep. More sleep will fix everything.

  I hang up the phone and hurl it across the room. It hits the wall with a satisfying thump and falls to the floor. I lie on my back and pull my knees up, resting my feet on the bed. I suck in a breath to hold in my tears. How much of a girl am I? I rest the backs of my hands over my eyes.

  “Jameson?” Mom knocks softly on my door.

  “Yeah.” But my chest is so tight I’m not sure how it comes out.

  She sits on the side of the bed and puts a hand on my knee. I don’t know if her sympathy makes it better or worse.

  “Waffles? Swim?”

  “They’d get soggy, Mom.”

  She laughs.

  I laugh a little, too. I swear when my body shakes to laugh it shakes out more tears and hits those raw edges together again.

  “Deep breath.” Mom’s voice is a whisper.

  “I can’t. Not yet.” I flatten out my hands and wipe the tears away with my palms.

  “Might take a while.” Her hand squeezes my knee in a depressingly sympathetic gesture.

  It’s actually the most comforting thing I’ve heard yet. “Swim.”

  “I’ll see you in five.”

  “Three.”

  Mom walks out, and I let the hands fall off my face. Swim. I can do this. I roll out of bed, throw on shorts, and step outside.

  When we moved into this house, Mom and Dad made sure that both our bedrooms opened into the backyard. This means I have about twenty steps to our pool.

  “I win.” I hear Mom outside.

  I make a dash for the pool, but we hit at just about the same time. I can feel the line of water slide across my skin as I jump in. It’s been years since Mom’s been able to keep up with me. We swim together anyway. Back and forth we go. No need to speak, no need for anything. Just the pull of my arms, the push of my feet, and the coolness that flows over my body as I move. The hole’s still here, digging at the insides of my chest. But the edges are getting smoother. The water is wearing on them, just like it does with everything. Smooth and wears.