FEELS LIKE THE FIRST TIME

by Scott Hildreth

  “Whatever, that’s boring. Tell me about the first time?” he asked as he leaned his forearms onto the edge of the table.

  “Here you go. Anything else you two?” the waitress asked as she set the glass of water and the bottle of beer onto the table.

  Mike looked up and shook his head, “Thanks.”

  He turned back toward me and waited.

  “It was right when I got to town. And the guy she was with - I’m guessing her boyfriend - he was a douchebag. More like a dirt bag,” I paused as I grabbed my glass of water.

  “I was on the bike,” I chuckled and shook my head as I remembered the evening.

  “I was sitting on the bike looking at the soles of my boots. I heard him scream the word slut or whore, I don’t remember. I looked up and he tossed and iPad or something on the ground. He screamed at her a few more times as I started walking over to his truck. Then he stomped the iPad and held it in his hand as he started yelling at her again.”

  “Surprised you didn’t whip his ass,” Mike said as he leaned back into his chair.

  “Well, you know I struggle with that. If he had been violent toward her or threatening her I would have. They were just arguing. But when they left, she looked at me through the window. And her lips moved,” I looked back up at the ceiling and studied the structure.

  “Her lips moved?” he turned his palms up and looked at me surprised.

  “Well, she either said help me or hurt me or something. I couldn’t tell,” I shook my head as I pressed my hood tight to my head with the palms of my hands.

  “I kind of forgot about it until I went into the insurance company. Now I can’t stop thinking about her. You believe there’s a plan for all of us? You know, everything happens for a reason?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I do. Kinda weird about that, but yeah,” he said as he nodded his head slowly.

  “I think things happen for a reason. I really do,” I confirmed as I recalled seeing her sitting at the desk.

  “What’s she look like?” he asked.

  I thought of the day at the drug store parking lot. She looked beautiful, but she was scared. I didn’t like thinking about it. When I recalled the image of her talking on the phone as she sat at the desk, her blonde hair curly and shiny, I smiled. She looked magnificent.

  “Perfect,” I responded, still looking up at the lights.

  “Oh, I gotcha. Perfect. If she robs a bank, we could give that description to the cops, Dekk. Did you see who robbed the bank? Yes, officer, I got a good look at her. Great. Can you describe her to the sketch artist? Yes, I sure can. She looked perfect, officer,” he laughed as he tipped his beer bottle to his lips.

  “Ripp, you’re a prick. She’s probably five foot something. She was in the truck, but looked short. Maybe a hundred pounds. Thin, but she looked athletic. So she’s blonde and gorgeous,” I looked down and focused on Mike’s face as I finished speaking.

  “What about him?”

  “He was maybe six foot or so. Two twenty. Out of shape, but a big fucker,” I rubbed my hood with my hands.

  “Shitty brown hair, curly,” I paused and thought for a second.

  “Shitty beard. Shitty attitude. Just a shitty fucker,” I grinned.

  “Well, next time you go pay your insurance, if she’s in there talk to her. Ask her about the day at the drug store. Give her a chance to say if she’s even still with that guy,” he responded as he raised his beer and tipped the mouth of the bottle my direction.

  “You about ready to get out of here?” he asked as he lowered the empty bottle down onto the table.

  I shrugged my shoulders and pushed my hands into the pockets of my hoodie.

  “To where?” I asked.

  “To the mall, Dekkar. I’m gonna help buy my buddy some boots,” he said as he stood up and looked at the bill.

  I pulled my hand from my pocket and reached for my wallet.

  “I got this,” he said as he waved his hands over the receipt the waitress had placed on the table.

  “Times are tough and you need to save up for some boots,” he laughed as he set the empty beer bottle down on top of the money and the receipt.

  “Well, at least I don’t ride in those,” I said as I pointed to his shorts and Chuck’s sneakers.

  “Hell Shane, ask the waitress. Shit, ask anyone at the mall or on the way. Ask somebody at a fucking stoplight. Which one of us looks out of place? The one in the shorts and Chuck’s or the guy wearing a fucking black hoodie when it’s ninety degrees outside?” he laughed as he stuck his signature toothpick in his mouth.

  I shook my head and walked toward the exit.

  “I know, they’re your security blankets. Your hoodie and those damned dog tags. Hell, Dekk. If it works, it works,” he said as he slapped my shoulder.

  I pulled my hand from my pocket and reached under my hoodie toward my chest.

  Still there.

  We walked out the door and directly to the bike parking, which was immediately outside the front door.

  As I got on my bike, I began to think.

  “Dude, you fall asleep?” Mike yelled over the sound of his rumbling exhaust.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’re in a fog, Dekk. You alright?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “I was thinking,” I responded as I grabbed the handlebars.

  “About?” he asked.

  “Upgrading the insurance on this bike,” I responded.

  Chapter 4

  KACE. I sat at my desk, waiting for my ten o’clock break. I loved taking my breaks because I could always read without feeling guilty. I had purchased a new Kindle, and had it shipped to my work office so Josh wouldn’t know I had it. Trying to keep things from him made me feel like I was cheating, but he forced me to do most of the things I eventually chose to do.

  He monitored all of my spending on the debit or credit cards, leaving me no real option to use the cards for anything but gas. I told him I ate out for lunch, and he provided me money to do so. Most days I would bring something light from home to eat. If I brought too much food, he’d notice and complain, so I brought very little when I did.

  Most of the time, I would place my lunch money in my desk and save it for things I wanted or needed. Once I saved for a new pair of shoes. Recently, I bought the Kindle. I always went to the store and bought a prepaid debit card and used the card for the purchases. As long as I used the card, he never knew what I purchased and there was no record of it. For now I was leaving the Kindle in my desk so he couldn’t take it and smash it.

  I preferred reading romance and erotica. After I finished a really dark erotica, I would always follow it up with a true love romance novel. I had read some pretty dark erotica, and I actually liked reading them. I suspect I liked them because when I read about all of the crazy twisted dark stuff in those books it made my life seem almost normal.

  I wished one of my book boyfriends would come and save me from my shit life I was living. Sometimes I thought I actually fell in love with the characters in the books and hated for the book, series, or story to end. I often found myself reading slower because I didn’t want the book to end. I would daydream about the characters in the book, and what life would be like to have them instead of Josh.

  When I remember the day we went to pick up a movie at the Redbox and Josh stomped my Kindle, it makes me sad. The man in the hoodie with the strange blue eyes – I think about him being a book boyfriend from time to time. I wish he would have saved me. I liked the way he walked. Austin is a huge city and I know I will never see him again, but I wish I could. I regret not saying something to him when he asked. He almost begged me to say something. And he called Josh an asshole twice. I liked that. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him thank you.

  I looked at my watch and realized it was 10:15 already. I spent most of my break daydreaming about the guy in the hoodie and not reading. Either way, it’s was a means for me to escape. Josh told me no other man would ever want me and
I am sure he is right. I put my Kindle back into my purse and walked to my desk.

  “Kace, did the Valentine Group call or send you an email?” Mr. Martin asked as I sat down at my desk.

  “Yes, they emailed and called both. I put together a spreadsheet based on last year’s totals and incorporated the anticipated increases for this year’s production costs. I made columns of each; projected profits are on the far right. I emailed it to you,” I smiled.

  “Kace, you amaze me. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he slapped the desk and turned toward his office.

  I liked it when Mr. Martin told me nice things, and he never hesitated to do so. He made me feel like I was not such a worthless person. He promoted me every few years, and gave me a big raise and a new title, but my work was always the same. My new title was Executive Secretary. I was the only secretary, but I liked the title.

  Mr. Martin was in his early sixties and married. His wife came in from time to time, and she was beautiful. I would like to look like her when I’m sixty. I always told myself she looked so good because she was confident. Her hair, clothes, and nails were always perfect.

  I know I am not supposed to be envious of anyone, but I envy her.

  She has a nice husband, nice kids, a nice car, and a nice home. Her life couldn’t get any better. I would settle to live in a shack with someone as long as they treated me nicely. I always thought Josh and I would get married and have children, but it never happened. Most of the time I was glad we never had kids.

  I turned the music up on my computer. As Jaymay’s Grey or Blue played, I slumped into my seat. I closed my eyes and relaxed to the music as it played. Getting lost in music was like getting lost in a book. I listened to the music, quite satisfied the Valentine Group had already called.

  “Grey or Blue, great song,” a voice said from in front of my desk.

  I opened my eyes.

  Holyfuckingshit.

  I jumped forward so quickly I knocked over my bottle of water.

  It was him.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you, were you asleep?” he asked softly.

  “No. No. Sleeping not. Sleeping. Music. Listening. I was listening to music,” I stammered.

  Are you fucking kidding? I really don’t want to stutter right now.

  When I got excitedly nervous sometimes the words came out of my mouth and they were not necessarily always in order. I believe my mind worked at some weird pace, and often it got things jumbled up inside. I always tried to think before I spoke, but the words just fell out sometimes. And they always fell out in whatever order they wanted to.

  It never happened when I was scared, only when I was really nervous and excited at the same time. It used to happen when I was a little girl on Christmas morning or on my birthday when I was young. When I first met Josh it would happen, because I used to be really excited to see him.

  “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

  As he spoke, he pulled his hood over his head. He wore the same black hoodie he had on at the Red Box when I saw him two years before. It seemed odd he was wearing a hoodie in the summer, but considering everything else, it really didn’t matter.

  “Nervous,” I said.

  Thank God. Only one fell out.

  He rubbed the hood onto the sides of his face, concealing most of his features. It was unzipped, and he wore a ribbed tank top underneath. From what I could see, he was built like an athlete. I sat and stared as I admired his eyes, body and smile. I tried my best not to speak.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you or make you nervous. Do you remember me?”

  My head bobbed up and down like one of those little dogs in the back window of some old person’s car. Nervously, I rubbed the wrinkles from my skirt. Perspiration formed on my palms like cold can of beer on a hot Austin day.

  Kace, you look like an idiot, say something.

  “Eyes, grey. Grey. I like your eyes. Your eyes,” I took a breath, raised my eyebrows and pointed at my mouth as I pursed my lips.

  I took another deep breath and exhaled slowly.

  “I’m nervous too, if it helps,” he said as he smiled sweetly and leaned onto the upper portion of my reception station.

  I raised my eyebrows and kept my mouth closed.

  “I am. You can kind of tell when I’m nervous or I don’t want to talk about something. I pull the hood over my head. My name is Shane. Shane Dekkar,” he said as he pulled the hood from his face.

  Holy book fucking boyfriend. This guy is perfect.

  I grabbed a sticky note and scribbled on it with my pen.

  When I get nervous or really excited the words don’t come out in order. It’s embarrassing. I’m sorry.

  I handed him the note.

  He looked down, read it, and smiled as he looked up from the note. He turned the note over face down, reached down onto my lower desk, and grabbed a pen from my jar of pens. He scribbled on the back side of the note and handed it to me.

  When I get nervous I hide under my hood. What’s your name?

  I set the note aside and grabbed a new one. I wrote on it and handed it back to him.

  My name is spelled Kace. It’s pronounced Casey, but spelled weird. My friends call me Kace without the “Y” pronounced. I go by either. I like your eyes.

  He read the note, turned it over, and chuckled. He looked up at the ceiling as if he were thinking, and wrote on the back side of the note. As he handed it to me, he stared into my eyes. I reached for the note and smiled as he released it to me.

  I have so much to say I would like one of the big sheets from your legal pad on your left. For now, I will say this.

  I like your face. You’re beautiful. And, if you ever get confused and can’t talk, tap your hand once for yes, and twice for no.

  This was so exciting.

  I ripped a sheet from the legal pad and handed it to him. The anticipation of what he might write on the sheet was killing me. Hopefully he would write a lot of things on the sheet. I pushed the two yellow sticky notes aside and set my water bottle upright. I looked up at him as he thought and wrote slowly. He folded the sheet in half and handed it to me.

  I unfolded it and was pleased to see that he had filled almost the entire page with hand written questions. His penmanship was perfect.

  Kace,

  I’m Shane Dekkar. We saw each other the first time at the drug store parking lot. I walked by here a month or so ago and noticed you for a second time. Your hair was really shiny. I think everything happens for a reason. I feel I really need to find out who you are. I found it increasingly difficult to know you were here and not come see you, so I came in today to see my insurance agent and say hello to you. I have some questions. Here they are.

  Was that guy at the drugstore your boyfriend?

  Is he violent toward you, or were you really just in a little argument?

  Are you single?

  Available?

  Do you like turkey sandwiches?

  Have you eaten lunch?

  Would you like to go to lunch?

  Are you a runner?

  I read what he wrote and read it again. Your hair was really shiny. Could this guy be any cuter than this?

  I looked up at him and started to write a response beside the questions he had written. I thought carefully as I wrote.

  Was that guy at the drugstore your boyfriend? Yes, but I want to find a way out.

  I read the next question and struggled with what I should write. I considered writing several things, but opted for a one word answer.

  Is he violent toward you, or were you really just in a little argument? Argument.

  Are you single? See above.

  Available? I think maybe.

  Do you like turkey sandwiches? Haha. Love them.

  Have you eaten lunch? No.

  Would you like to go to lunch? I think yes.

  Are you a runner? Yes, I am.

  I looked at my watch. It was 10:45 already. I scribbled my own note onto the
bottom of the sheet.

  This was fun.

  I get off for lunch at 11:30 and can be gone for an hour. The diner across the street has good turkey sandwiches. You can meet me there. Do you always wear a hoodie? It’s hot outside. I’m not as nervous now, but still kind of.

  You make my palms sweaty.

  I read what I wrote, smiled, and handed it back to him.

  He read the note, folded it and stuck it in his back pocket. He reached back and pulled the hood over his head and smiled. As he placed his forearms onto the upper countertop, he leaned forward slowly, getting closer to my face.

  His eyes commanded my attention.

  “I’ll see you at eleven thirty. I’m glad I make your hands sweaty. I always wear a hoodie. Well, almost always. You don’t need to respond if you’re still nervous,” he whispered.

  Almost unknowingly, I found myself leaning closer to him as he spoke. His breath smelled sweet.

  “Turkey,” I blurted.

  Are you fucking kidding me? Turkey? That’s all you can come up with?

  I rolled my eyes and pointed to my mouth.

  “Turkey,” his sweet breath whispered.

  He leaned a little closer. I leaned toward him a little more.

  “Get your little sticky note pad and get a new note, Kace. Write this on it. I’m coming, Kace. I’m coming for your heart.”

  As he turned and walked away, I stood up and faced him.

  And I melted a little.

  Good lord.

  Wow.

  I could just watch him walk forever.

  Chapter 5

  SHANE. I’ve spent most of my adult life wanting to be in a meaningful relationship. The relationships we typically have in high school never really amount to anything meaningful, and I didn’t look at my high school relationships as being anything but relationship curiosity. To think as a high school student we have any idea of what we want, need, or really desire in a life-long mate is ridiculous at best.

  I had a relationship as an adult for several years with Tina. She and I were inseparable. She spent all of her spare time with me, and I did the same with her. She even spent considerable time at the gym watching me train. I suspected we would get married and spend our lives together. Being around her made me feel as if my life was in order.