To Be Her First

by Elicia Hyder

  Journey Durant was an enigma that had been keeping him awake at night for over a month, and David was determined to get close enough to figure her out.

  2

  Crushes And Concussions

  Journey nibbled on a cookie where she lay sprawled out on her back across the cafeteria floor. It was Monday. She was still grounded, and she had spent the entire weekend playing solitaire on the computer at her parents’ shop. Kara was out sick, so that meant she had to ride the bus home from school. She didn’t think the day could possibly get any worse, but she was wrong.

  When the bell rang, signaling the end lunch, Journey pushed herself up off the floor, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and dropped her garbage in the trashcan. Ms. Lacey’s algebra class was only the second door outside of the cafeteria, so Journey took her time and sauntered down the hallway. She stopped for a drink at the water fountain and visited the girls bathroom, pausing at the mirror to sculpt her short hair and swipe on some lipgloss. She walked into math class with three minutes to spare.

  On the white board at the front of the classroom was a large note in blue marker. ‘Weekend practice tests due today! Turn in your test in the front basket.’

  Shit.

  Journey had finished her practice test during class on Friday and had left it in her locker. She dropped her backpack on the floor by her desk and sprinted from the classroom. The locker she shared with Kara was in a completely different building on the other side of the school. Journey cut through the cafeteria, zig-zagged through the rush of new students coming in for lunch, and raced down the hallway on the other side. She ran out the door at the end of the hall, crossed the courtyard over to the arts building, and reached for the door handle just as it flew open.

  The bright red door smacked her in the center of the forehead, sending her flying back through the air onto the concrete sidewalk. The only thing she could hear was laughter.

  Dizzy and confused, Journey blinked her eyes to get them to focus. Poised against the bright sunlight, a silhouette hovering above her had an angelic glow. “Are you OK?” a deep voice asked.

  The world swirled back together, and Journey saw Steven Drake’s hand outstretched to help her up. She closed her eyes and prayed for death. Next to him, his friends were still laughing.

  “Are you OK?” Steven asked again. His hand, stained by motor oil, wrapped around her wrist and pulled her to her feet.

  She rubbed her forehead. “Yeah. I’m all right.” She swayed on her wobbly legs, and he grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

  His friend, Kurt Something-or-Other, smirked. “You should watch where you’re going.”

  Steven bent slightly to examine her face. “You don’t look all right.”

  Steven Drake is within kissing distance right now. Oh. My. God.

  “I’m fine,” she insisted. She was far from fine. She thought she might puke on his boots.

  The bell rang. The sound rattled painfully around in her skull.

  Damn it.

  Kurt pushed past her, snarling as he went. “Keep your head up next time, you freak.”

  Steven gave her a once-over again and hesitated before following after Kurt and the other guy.

  Journey ducked her head and ran into the arts building. She made it safely inside the girl’s bathroom before uncontrollable tears spilt down her cheeks.

  · · ·

  When the afternoon bell rang, David walked outside and saw Journey walking toward the buses. Kara wasn’t anywhere in sight. He jogged to catch up with her. Something was wrong. Her head was down, and her shoulders were slumped. When he caught her, he spun around and walked backward so he could face her. “Hey,” he said.

  She looked up briefly. There was a bright red splotch across her forehead that looked a little swollen. “Hey, Dave.”

  “Whoa, what happened to you?” he asked.

  “Lost a fight with a door today,” she mumbled.

  He looked around. “Where’s your ride?”

  “At home with cramps.” Her eyes were focused back on the asphalt.

  His face broke into a smile. “I’ll drive you.”

  She stopped walking. “Why?”

  He laughed. “Do you want to ride the bus?”

  She shook her head.

  He tugged on her sleeve. “Then come on.”

  She looked at the row of yellow buses, then back at him, obviously weighing her options. She let out a deep sigh. “OK. Thanks.”

  He jerked his head back in the direction they had just come. “I’m in the senior’s lot.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Where else would you be parked?”

  David did a mental eye roll and cursed his own stupidity. Why couldn’t he be cool around her? He hooked his thumbs under the straps of his backpack. “What happened with the door?” he asked.

  “I was late and running into the arts building to get some homework I left in my locker. The door was opened from the other side, and it smacked me in the head,” she answered.

  He cringed. “Sounds like it hurt. You OK?”

  She shook her head slightly. “It almost knocked me out. I’ve had a headache all day.”

  “I’ll bet,” he said as they neared the steps that led down to the senior’s parking lot. She looked like she was in a lot of pain. He wondered if he should offer her his arm. He didn’t.

  The senior’s parking lot was already swarming with students who were glad to be free from the prison of high school. David looked around and pointed to his white pickup truck. “That’s me.”

  “I know,” she said.

  So, she knew what he drove. He smiled. That was a good sign.

  Marcus was parked next to him, and he had the little blonde cheerleader pressed against the driver’s door of his truck. “Get a room,” David called out as they approached.

  Marcus detached his mouth from hers and turned around. “You’re just jealous.” Marcus’s eyes landed on Journey, and he raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

  David pointed to her. “Marcus, you remember Journey, right?”

  His chin tilted up in confirmation. “Sure. What’s up?” he asked her.

  She smiled but didn’t respond.

  David could tell she really wasn’t well. He ushered her past Marcus’s truck. “We’re gonna take off. I’ll see you at practice later.”

  Marcus looked down at his watch. “Practice starts in fifteen minutes.”

  David shrugged as he walked with Journey around to the passenger’s side of his truck. He pulled her door open and looked back at Marcus. “Cover for me, will ya? I won’t be too late.”

  Marcus looked confused. “Uh…OK. Sure.”

  Journey paused in front of him, questioning him with her eyes.

  He nodded into the cab. “Hop in,” he said with a smile.

  She hesitated for a moment before climbing into the passenger’s seat. He closed her door.

  Marcus held out his hands and lowered his voice. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m giving Journey a ride home,” he answered. “What’s it look like I’m doing?”

  Marcus laughed. “It looks like you’re blowing off practice to hang out with a chick!”

  David rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back. Just tell coach I forgot something at home.”

  Marcus shook his head and sighed. “All right.”

  He got into the truck and jammed his keys into the ignition. Journey looked over at him. “Are you sure you have time for this?” she asked.

  He smiled over at her. “I’m the captain of the team. I won’t get into trouble.” It was a lie. David knew he would have laps and pushups waiting for him when he showed up late for practice, but he didn’t care.

  She smelled nice, like coconut cream pie.

  He turned the engine over and backed out of his space. He looked over his shoulder at her. The pink in her hair had faded a little, and she was wearing a skirt with her purple combat boots. Her face was sad. “I know what will make you feel better,” he said
.

  She looked over with wide eyes. “Morphine?”

  He laughed. “Ice cream.”

  She pulled her head back and scrunched her eyebrows together. “Seriously?”

  He lowered his gaze. “I never joke about ice cream.”

  She laughed, and he nearly melted at the sound.

  · · ·

  There was a familiar brown sedan parked in the driveway in front of Steven’s house when he pulled in after school. The back fender was missing, and the back driver’s side door was a green junkyard replacement that hadn’t been bothered with a paint job. Steven shifted the Chevelle into park and rested his head back against the headrest.

  There was a short list of things in the world that Steven loved more than he loved his black muscle car. His mom and his brother were the only two things he could think of. The Chevelle had been nothing but a rusted piece of scrap metal when his grandfather had given it to him.

  It was Grandpa Joe who taught him how to rebuild an engine, replace worn out parts, and sand away the years off a classic. He had also been the glue holding the remnants of the Drake family together. Until June anyway. Steven knew it was the beginning of the end as he stood over Grandpa’s casket. His mom was doped up on Xanax she’d gotten from Brian; Brian’s eyes were bloodshot from God-only-knows-what; and it was the first time Steven had seen that ugly old sedan.

  He sat in the driveway with the engine running and debated going inside or just backing out onto the road again. He’d known this was coming the minute he smelled the alcohol on his mom’s breath the week before. Unfortunately, his work uniform was in his room, so he blew out a deep sigh and killed the engine. Leaving his Earth Science book on the passenger’s seat, he got out of the car and slammed the door shut.

  The front door creaked when he pulled it open, but the house was quiet. Maybe he could get in and get out undetected. He ducked into his room and found his work shirt on the top of the laundry pile in his floor. He stripped off his black sweatshirt and slipped his arms through the sleeves of the uniform. Then a door opened down the hallway.

  Steven groaned as his mother stepped into the doorway to his room. “Hey,” she said, leaning against the chipped doorframe.

  He didn’t look up as he stepped toward his closet to get his work boots. “Hey.”

  “Your daddy’s here.”

  He picked up the boots and dropped them on his bed. “I know.”

  “Is ‘at my boy?” he heard a familiar gruff voice call down the hallway.

  Steven’s stomach soured. He focused on changing his shoes as quickly as possible.

  A moment later, Ricky Drake’s large, shirtless frame filled the doorway. Thankfully, the only physical feature Steven got from his dad was his height. Ricky was balding and pale, with a beer belly that sagged over his waistband. He scratched the hair on his chest and yawned, displaying a mouthful of rotting teeth. “How ya doin’, boy?” he asked.

  “I’m busy. I’m gonna be late for work,” he said as he laced up his boots.

  “Well, ain’t ya gonna even say hello?”

  Steven shook his head. “Nope.”

  Ricky shifted on his feet. “Is that sass I hear?”

  Steven stood up and grabbed his jacket. “Yep.” He stared his father down, as his mother pushed her way back into the room between them.

  “Now, boys,” she began. “Let’s not start this.”

  Steven shook his head as he walked past her. “You’re so stupid, Mom.”

  Ricky took a bold step toward his son, but Steven didn’t flinch. “You don’t talk to your momma that way, boy!” Ricky roared.

  Steven narrowed his eyes. “No, that’s your job, isn’t it?” He shoved past his dad, knocking shoulders with him as he pushed through the doorway.

  In three long strides, Steven made it across the living room and out the front door. Outside, the trusty Chevelle rumbled to life under him and spun up gravel as he peeled out of the driveway. Everything inside him wanted to turn the car around and go back to kick his dad’s ass. Instead, he tried to think about work. He tried to think about the new Terminator movie. He even tried to think about school.

  Thinking of school reminded him of knocking down that girl with the pink hair. He wondered if she was all right.

  3

  Smoke Rings

  By Tuesday, Kara’s stomach cramps had progressed into the stomach flu. She wasn’t at school again. Journey assumed their normal spot sitting by the wall in the cafeteria that morning by herself. But she wasn’t alone for long. David Britton waved to her as he came through the door.

  Journey watched a lot of movies in her spare time, and she began to wonder if she had inadvertently fallen prey to some sick high school bet between members of the popular crowd. Why else was he being so nice to her?

  He ignored the football table completely and walked straight toward her, his perfect smile cemented in place. “Hey. How ‘ya feeling today?”

  She smiled up at him. “Better. It only hurts when I touch it now.”

  He nudged her leg with the toe of his tennis shoe. “Don’t touch it then.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Still no car?” he asked.

  “Nope.”

  He looked around. “And no Kara, I assume?”

  She shook her head. “She was puking this morning.”

  He scrunched up his nose. “That sucks.” He rocked back and forth on his feet. “Well, do you want a ride again this afternoon?”

  She laughed and squinted up at him. “You really don’t have to, Dave—”

  He cut her off. “It’s not a big deal. I want to.”

  Her mouth fell open a little. “Why?”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Is it really so hard to believe I’m a nice guy? Do I have some douchebag reputation I’m not aware of?”

  Whoops, she thought. It was time to back peddle. Fast.

  “No, not at all.” She looked around. “You wanna sit?”

  He glanced back at the football table. Her eyes followed his. Marcus Garrett, Justin Kruse, and several others were watching him expectantly. Journey sensed this was some sort of pivotal social moment, but she wasn’t sure what role she played in it.

  Finally, David’s eyes settled on her again. “Yeah.” He slipped his arms out of his backpack and dropped it on the floor. He sat down across from her and leaned back on his arms, crossing his feet at the ankles.

  Behind him, Marcus’s head drop quizzically to the side.

  She looked back at David and tapped her fingertips together. “So…”

  A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “So…” he echoed. “What do you and Kara usually talk about?”

  Boys. You. Your friends. Steven Drake…

  As if on cue, Steven Drake walked through the door. His presence was a magnet for her attention, and Journey couldn’t help but let her eyes linger on him for a moment. Then he locked gazes with her.

  Her eyes widened as her heart pounded in her chest. She looked back at David, who turned to look in time for Steven to stop just behind him.

  “Hey,” Steven said.

  Journey looked at Steven, then at David, then back up at Steven again. Steven Drake. This can’t be happening right now.

  “Hi.” Her voice cracked.

  Steven stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I was just wondering if you were all right.”

  Journey looked to see if someone was behind her that she was unaware of. Nope. He was really talking to her. Her stomach fluttered as she remembered the pressure of his hand around her wrist. “Yeah. I’m OK. Um…thanks for asking.”

  He looked as awkward as she felt. “I also wanted to say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

  She shook her head to stop him. “No, don’t worry about it. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

  He took a half-step backward. “OK. Well, see ya.”

  And then he was gone.

  David raised his eyebrows. “What was that about?
”

  She nodded toward where Steven was walking away and pointed to her forehead. “He was on the other side of the door yesterday.”

  David jerked his thumb in Steven’s direction. “And he just apologized to you.” He laughed with surprise. “He doesn’t strike me as the apologetic type.”

  Journey was surprised as well, but she was too shocked to agree with him. She pinched her arm to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. When she decided she was awake, she rubbed the knot on her skull again, looked across the room at Steven one more time, and then looked back at the quarterback. What a weird morning. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.

  · · ·

  After school, David waited for Journey at the split in the sidewalk where one path led to the buses and the other path led to the parking lot. He was determined to intercept her if she tried to sneak away to the bus. Marcus showed up before Journey did.

  “Where’s your girlfriend?” David asked, noticing the cheerleader was missing.

  Marcus winked at him. “What girlfriend?”

  David laughed and shook his head.

  Marcus looked around. “You waiting on someone?”

  David smiled. “Maybe.”

  Marcus’s eyes widened. “Dude, what’s with you lately? Are you dating that chick?”

  “Nah, man. We’re just friends,” he answered.

  Marcus laughed. “Good.”

  David’s head snapped back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “She’s kinda weird, Dave.”

  David folded his arms over his chest. “She’s actually pretty cool. And maybe if you thought about girls with your brain instead of just your dick, you’d see that.”

  Marcus held up his hands in defense. “Dude, chill out. I’m just saying she’s not your type.”

  “What’s my type?”

  Marcus cast his eyes over to a group of girls surrounding Rebecca Ashburn.

  David laughed. “Rebecca certainly isn’t my type. Not anymore.”

  “Whatever, Dave,” Marcus said, shaking his head. “Justin and I are going to Shady Side to watch the mud races tonight if you wanna go.”