First Loves: A Collection of Three YA Novels

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First Loves: A Collection of Three YA Novels Page 60

by Jolene Perry


  “That’s the part I messed up, Antony.” Dad pauses for so long, I start to think he won’t continue. “Once I left, I felt disconnected from you. Even at three you were so much like your Mom. I’m a bit of a recluse. I don’t keep many friends. Liv was the opposite. It intimidated me, scared me, and made me feel like I’d never be the kind of dad you deserved.”

  “But I did deserve a dad.” My heart’s pounding hard. Too hard.

  “I’m sorry. There’s no excuse. I should have tried harder, and made sure I saw you more. Once you started pushing away from me, I let it happen.”

  I nod. I don’t understand. Not really. But at least he’s not trying to push any bullshit.

  “I love you, Antony. I hope you know that.” His eyes are intent over the table.

  “Yeah.” I stand again. “Thanks.” I’m more resigned than anything at this point. It is what it is. At least we get along.

  I step down into the boat and flop on the sofa, exhausted from the girls, exhausted from Dad, and unable to keep track of anything else in my head.

  Twenty

  “Morning sleepyhead.” Hélèna tugs at my toe.

  I roll onto my back and smile up at her. She really is pretty. She has the most beautiful olive skin and doe eyes, and she doesn’t know how to dress in any way but hot.

  “Walk with me to get coffee.”

  I rub my face a few times. “Sure.” This is where I have to just tell her what’s going on, right? I’m still skeptical. Honesty is what made Amber afraid of me, and right now I’m pretty damn sure it’s what’s going to make Hélèna pissed at me.

  I slept in my clothes, and don’t even bother to change or get rid of my morning breath. No way I’ll be kissing anyone anytime soon, so it doesn’t much matter. I help Hélèna off the boat in silence.

  She takes my arm as we walk up the street. The spring day is already warm and sunny, and it wouldn’t be so bad here if it was like this instead of raining more often.

  “It’s so weird to see you in a place like this.” She giggles and squeezes my bicep.

  “It’s weird being here,” I admit.

  “So, something’s up. And I need to know what it is.”

  Just then Amber steps out of the coffee shop. Her face falls. Her eyes go from me to the girl on my arm. I start to pull away, but Hélèna clutches her arm. “Jumping away will make you look more guilty,” she whispers.

  Relax. Be normal. Relax. “Hey, Amber. Why don’t you join us?” I’m an ass.

  “I’m finished. Enjoy your coffee.” Her face is hard, flat, completely unreadable. And I’d try to read her eyes, but she’s moving away from us as fast as she can. I step toward her as she passes, but Hélèna still holds my arm.

  “What will you say?” she whispers.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then let her go, or you’ll screw it up.”

  I sigh and watch Amber walk away for another moment. Why can’t I run after her, throw my arms around her, and make it all perfect? Why can’t that be enough?

  “Let’s talk, and then you can go get the girl you want.” Hélèna steps away from me and into the café.

  I stand outside like a schmuck for a moment, undecided. When I step in, she’s sitting.

  “I ordered yours.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, how long have you been in love with that girl?” Her large brown eyes hold me locked in.

  “I don’t—”

  “Don’t lie. If you’re about to tell me you’re not in love with her then it’s because you’re lying or just haven’t realized it yet.”

  Now I stare at the table. Our coffees are dropped off, and I think I manage a nod to the waiter.

  “I miss my mom so much that it feels like I’ll cave in. When I’m around her, I don’t feel it as much. I tell her crap I don’t tell anyone, and it just comes out of me.” I take a drink, forcing my eyes off Hélèna.

  She sighs. Her full lips are soft. “Too bad. I was looking forward to a little fun with you.”

  “Sorry. I just—”

  “Can’t.” She re-crosses her legs and leans back in her chair. “I’m too old for you anyway.”

  “Whatever.” I chuckle.

  “Arnaud asked me to marry him.”

  I spit coffee on the table. “He’s your uncle!”

  She laughs. “He’s not really my uncle silly, and he’s only ten years older.”

  I knew he was younger than my mom, but still. “I thought he was older than that.” Arnaud and Hélèna… “So, what’s the problem?”

  “Marriage, the whole thought of it is so…” She shudders and stares out the window.

  “But you two half live together, don’t you? I mean, you’re half-way there.”

  “Who are you, and what have you done with my friend, Antony?” She chuckles.

  I laugh. “Same guy.”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “You’re not the same guy. But one word and I’d stay here, with you.” Her voice trails off in a whisper.

  “You don’t want me. I’m a mess.” I don’t want Hélèna to want me. That would mean I have choices. Real choices that mean something, and one’s angry at me, and the other isn’t. The really, really selfish part of me wants to take advantage of that. But not at the risk of losing Amber. And really, as I look at Hélèna, I wouldn’t want to risk making her feel bad, either. I have changed.

  “I’d take you.”

  Her words make my chest sink. I don’t want her to want me like this. “Arnaud is crazy, but he’s a good man, and I think you love him.”

  “I love you both.”

  Shit. My chest drops. This is not what I want. This is the girl who I’ve wanted in some kind of real way since we first got together. Since that first night at Arnaud’s house.

  “But you love that sweet girl with the long legs.” She attempts a smile. I think this is the most emotion I’ve ever seen from her.

  I still don’t know about love, but it’s definitely a new kind of thing for me. I’m not sure how to say that to Hélèna.

  “Damn.” She breathes out. “I hoped maybe you’d see how great we’d be together. You could come next year, and we’d live it up in the streets of Paris or something.”

  It takes me a minute to find words. “I’d never guess you felt like that. You’ve always kept me…”

  “Distant.”

  “Yeah.” That’s exactly it. And it meant that I kept her distant, too.

  “I do with everyone. Life is easier when you’re not messing it up. And here I am, admitting to you that I might be in love with you, only to find you’re in love with somebody else. And it looks like you’ll have some fixing to do when I go.”

  “Now I feel like shit over you, too.”

  “Don’t.” She takes another drink. “So, she has a nice American-girl fit body, yes?”

  “Yes.” The picture most easily brought to the surface is her floating on her back in the water.

  “She’s good to you?” She cocks a brow and leans forward. Hélèna’s mind is in the gutter, that much is clear.

  “No one’s as good as your first, chérie.” I wink.

  She smiles. It was the perfect thing to say to her. “Arnaud.” She lets out another puff of air. “What will I do?”

  “Whatever the hell you want. Like usual.”

  She laughs. “This is why I love you so much, Antony.”

  We sit in silence for a few minutes. I’m still being stretched because I want to run into Amber’s boat and talk with her and hold her and tell her how Hélèna may marry Arnaud, and just needed away. And I never thought a day would come when Hélèna would come at me like this and I’d tell her no.

  The way I feel about Amber is starting to scare the crap out of me, but is also keeping me sane. I’m not sure how to reconcile the conflicting feelings there, so I push them away and know that moving forward with Amber is better for me. The real me, not the guy I try to be or wish I was. The real guy.

  “You nee
d to get out of here.” She looks around. “This place is changing you.”

  “Going to college in New York next year.”

  Her thin dark brows arch higher. “And what about your little American girl then?”

  Another problem I hadn’t given much consideration to. “I don’t know yet.”

  She smirks. “Well, if I haven’t given in to Arnaud, you know where to find me. Right now, I just need a ride to the airport.”

  “You’re leaving?” I ask.

  “Don’t sound so relieved.” Her eyes narrow.

  “I’m sorry. We just hadn’t talked about how long you’d stay or…”

  “Look at you.” She squeezes my cheek across the table. “Cute as ever.”

  Great.

  “I need some time. I’ll meet you on your boat in a little while.” She re-crosses her legs.

  “I do like you, Hélèna. It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you.”

  “It’s that we have very different ideas on what we want to do with our time together.”

  She’s right.

  “Thank you.” I stand and start back to the boat. Blissfully alone.

  Dad climbs out of his car and gives me a wave. Okay, well I was alone. And right now Dad’s probably safer than any other company I might have.

  “How are things?” he asks.

  “How the hell should I know?” I step in next to him.

  “That Hélèna.” He shakes his head. “She’s more self-aware than most thirty-year-olds I know, and she has the body of a …”

  “Underwear model. I know.”

  Dad gives me a sideways glance over that one.

  “She was my first,” I admit.

  “Wow. Okay.” Dad swallows a few times.

  “Amber has the right to be pissed, and we kind of argued the other day. It was just bad timing all the way around.” I run my hand over my hair.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Hélèna leaves tonight.”

  “Already?”

  “She’s not getting what she wants here, and she’s kind of running away from someone, and…”

  “Looking for an escape then?” Dad asks.

  “I guess.”

  “It says a lot that she came to you.”

  I hadn’t really thought of it that way. But it wasn’t just for an escape, part of it was a wish for something more. I really hope that I don’t wonder someday if I did the right thing here, even though I know the way I feel about Amber is a lot more real than whatever Hélèna and I have.

  “No guess. It does. I’m glad you’re that kind of guy.”

  “Maybe. Most likely I’m just in the process.” I stuff my hands in my pockets, needing to do something.

  “We’re all in the process, Antony.”

  We take a few steps in silence.

  “How you doing with Mom?”

  “Don’t kick me when I’m down, Dad.” I feel his words like a punch. I shove it back, down, with all the rest of the Mom stuff that I can’t deal with yet.

  He puts his arms on my shoulder and gives my back a few quick rubs. “Sorry.”

  So now Hélèna needs some time alone. I have no idea what to say to Amber yet aside from what I’ve already said. I lie on the back deck of Dad’s boat on the bench seat and close my eyes.

  Two sets of footsteps on the ramp wake me up.

  “Come with us,” Hélèna says in her soft accent.

  What? Hélèna? My heart starts thumping.

  “I don’t think so.” Amber’s voice.

  Holy shit. Hélèna and Amber are talking. This is either going to be awesome, or the worst day of my life. I lie still, feeling very out of control, but also too chicken to sit up.

  “He loves you.”

  “Well, he has a funny way of showing it.” I’m picturing Amber right now, scowling with her perfect lips.

  “He didn’t kiss me back.” Hélèna sighs. “And it’s a shame too. He’s a good kisser.”

  Now I want to wring her neck.

  “He said he did.”

  Hélèna laughs. “Well, if he did, he’s really lost his touch, because it felt like he was pulling away the whole time.”

  “I don’t get him, and you, or…”

  “Relax, Amber. Antony was fun for me, that’s all. That’s what I wanted from him. Probably it messed with his head to be with someone like you.”

  Silence.

  “I messed with him?” Amber asks.

  Hélèna really needs to work on her English.

  “No. Me, silly. I messed him up for someone like you.”

  “Oh.” Amber’s voice still sounds sort of lost.

  “Come with us. It will give you two some time together in the car, okay?”

  Hélèna’s powers of persuasion on men are remarkable. I’m curious to see if she’ll be able to pull this off as well.

  “Okay.” I know Amber well enough to know exactly what her face will look like right now. Her shoulders will be slumped down, almost in defeat, and if I’m lucky, she’ll be holding in a smile.

  - - -

  So, having Hélèna in the back seat, while Amber’s in the front seat and I’m driving, is about the most horribly awkward thing I can imagine. Amber’s quiet and looking out the window. Hélèna’s using her manners and speaking English, but there’s no way for her to sound…normal. This is definitely going in the stack against me. And the thing is, Hélèna’s trying to help. I know she is. But she’s bringing things up that I used to think made me one of the good guys, but will make Amber think I’m not.

  Like how I pulled her from some backstage party at a theater in downtown Paris. About how I set up some big party at Jace’s house when she and a few other French college students came into town. How mature I am for my age. That I hang with people older than me. How I fit in anywhere. And part of me loves to hear these things, but it’s the part of me that I’m slowly realizing was the part that felt so much pressure to keep it up, the façade, the pretenses. I always felt like a fraud at those things. With Amber I feel like the real guy. It’s easy, but also really, really, hard because she’s fighting against all the things I used to be.

  It’s the longest drive to the airport ever.

  Hélèna pulls me into a long hug on the curb, and Dad’s right. She’s the part of my life that I’ve sort of left behind. I’m not as sad about it as I should be, which probably means something.

  “I hope to see you soon.” She frowns with her full lips and huge doe eyes.

  “We’ll see.” I shrug.

  “As mysterious as ever.” Very softly she kisses me on each cheek, and then back for one more. Just so I know she’s still undecided, and might still give me a chance.

  “Bye, Antony.” She waves as she steps back.

  Amber’s sitting in the car, probably completely unsure of what she should be doing.

  Hélèna knocks on her window.

  Crap. I run around to my side to get in.

  Hélèna stands. “Don’t you dare eavesdrop on a girl’s conversation.”

  Shit.

  I watch Amber through the windshield. Her eyes meet mine as Hélèna talks and a faint smile pulls on the edges of her mouth. Then her cheeks turn flaming red and she stares at her lap.

  I suck in a huge breath and rest my hands on my head for a moment, like maybe I’ll feel better if I’m all stretched up or something.

  “I hope you have a nice flight home!” Amber calls.

  My head snaps back just in time to see Hélèna step into the doors of the airport. She doesn’t look back. She wouldn’t. Just enough so that I’ll wonder if she’s still thinking about me. Or so that I’ll know she doesn’t need me, or like me too much. I used to think that was hot. Not anymore.

  I slide to sitting in Dad’s car. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” Her smile is big and her cheeks are still fading from whatever horribly embarrassing thing Hélèna let slip.

  “I’m sorry if she…”

  “It�
��s fine.” Amber rests her hand on my thigh. “I’m fine. It’s okay.”

  “Okay.” And as much as I wish I could read her well, I’m not sure if I do. “So, what did she say?”

  “Yeah, right.” Amber shakes her head and leans just slightly toward me.

  I start to move toward her, but stop.

  She closes the distance and puts our lips together. And I want to pull her to me, and kiss her deeply and fully, but I don’t. I let her move away, and it sucks, but it’s a million times further than I thought I’d get with her for a while.

  Something should be said. “I was kind of afraid I’d lost you after the other night, and then…”

  “Your French girl showed up.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s do something before heading back. Is that okay?”

  She wants to spend time with me. It brings more relief than I thought possible. “Anything.”

  Amber and I spend the whole day in Seattle. No planning. No thought. We go to Pike Place, and we go to the museum. There’s a Monet exhibit, and we spend hours. We hold hands, and I’m trying to make myself okay with that being what we have right now. The problem was that I wanted the sweetness of Amber and the forwardness of Hélèna, and they don’t come in the same package.

  I want the Amber package. And whatever comes with it.

  We’re in the car on the Edmonds ferry that’ll bring us over to Kingston. Back home. I’m not sure if this is home for me or not, but it’s where I live right now, and I’m comfortable with that. “Holy shit.”

  “What?” Her wide eyes look at me across the car.

  “I live on a boat.”

  “So do I.” She laughs.

  “Yeah. But I, Antony Preston, live on a boat.”

  “You’re cute.” She’s on her knees in seconds, leaning over the center console and kissing me. She’s kissing me in a way that makes me feel completely okay with pulling her across the car and into my lap. It’s tight, but doesn’t matter. We’re too close to care.

  Is this Amber? What happened? Her hands are in my hair and her mouth is unrelenting in how she’s kissing me. Her hands reach down and slide up under my shirt. Mine. Her fingers tighten on my sides and onto my back. And as much as I want her bare skin under my fingers, I don’t do it. Isn’t this sort of huge? That I’m not pushing us as far as I can? And then the ferry signals that we’ve docked.

 

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