by Meg Tilly
First Time
Meg Tilly
orca soundings
Copyright © 2008 Meg Tilly
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Tilly, Meg, 1960-
First Time / written by Meg Tilly.
(Orca soundings)
ISBN 978-1-55143-946-4 (bound) ISBN 978-1-55143-944-0 (pbk.)
I. Title. II. Series.
PS8589.I54F57 2008 jC813’.54 C2008-903025-7
Summary: Sixteen-year-old Haley must deal with unwanted advances from her mother’s new boyfriend.
First published in the United States, 2008
Library of Congress Control Number: 2008928551
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC
Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
Cover design by Teresa Bubela
Cover photography by Getty Images
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
PO Box 5626, STN. B
VICTORIA, BC CANADA
V8R 6S4
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
PO Box 468
CUSTER, WA USA
98240-0468
www.orcabook.com
Printed and bound in Canada.
Printed on 100% PCW recycled paper.
11 10 09 08 • 5 4 3 2 1
To all of us whose first times were less than perfect.
Acknowledgments:
I’d like to thank my husband, Don, for his tireless help and encouragement with all my writing. Bob Tyrrell, the publisher of Orca Books, for asking me to do one. I feel there is a real need for these types of books and am proud to be part of the Soundings series. Andrew Wooldridge, for his sensitive editing and brave championing of interesting, relevant-to-teens material. Teresa Bubela, for designing a thought-provoking cover. And Dayle Sutherland, for all her tireless work, getting the word out about Soundings books.
Meg Tilly is a former actress and a bestselling novelist. First Time is her first time being published by Orca. Meg lives in Vancouver, British Columbia.
Chapter One
Standing at the end of our drive waiting for...get this...Lynn to pick me up in her car! Her car. She called me up on her cell phone twenty minutes ago. She was just pulling out of the Metro Toyota dealership in Victoria. And yes, I know, my driving instructor would say, “Talking on a cell phone while driving is unsafe behavior,” but she just bought herself a car, for Christ’s sake! She’s gotta talk to somebody, and who better than me? Of course she had to call me.
So here I am, waiting for Lynn. Wondering if I have time to go back inside and get the lavender zip-up Juicy sweatshirt I scored at the after-Christmas sales. I doubt she’ll be able to get back to Sooke so fast, even going the speed limit. Not only that, but this wind seems to be picking up a bit, and the sweatshirt seems like a two-girls-riding-around-town kind of ensemble. It’s a casual, innocent, sexy look. There’s something about the way it fits that makes me look more well-endowed than I am, and then it has that ribbing that makes my waist look really small.
That decides it. I sprint back up the drive, climb the porch steps, dart through the kitchen. I don’t bother taking my runners off because I’m in a hurry. Besides, there’s nobody at home to give me hell. At least that’s what I think, until I pass by the den and see a movement inside. I get that tingly jolt of adrenaline for a second. It’s Larry, my mom’s fancy new lawyer boyfriend, sitting behind mom’s desk, a bunch of papers spread out before him. According to Sondra, Mom’s best friend, “He’s everything a woman could want in a man. He’s smart, funny, rich and handsome. He’s the whole package.” And I suppose, if you’re a middle-aged woman, perhaps he is all that. My mom’s been really happy ever since they started dating, so I’m glad for her. It’s just, I don’t feel that comfortable around him. I want to like him, but I don’t. I wish she hadn’t given him the key.
“Hey, Haley,” he says, standing up. He’s got his tie loosened and his suit jacket hanging over the back of the chair. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“Can’t talk,” I say, keeping my legs moving. “Lynn’s waiting for me.” I don’t wait for his answer. I’m not trying to be rude, but I don’t like hanging around him, especially when Mom’s not home. There’s something about him that gives me the creeps. Luckily he doesn’t follow me. Last week he did, right into my bedroom. Can you believe that? Hands casually slung in his slacks, dress shirt sleeves rolled up, leaning in my doorway, like he thinks he’s some kind of male model in a Brooks Brothers ad. Had some sort of bogus excuse about wanting to see the painting I did in art class. Like I would show it to him.
I find my sweatshirt in the pile of clothes by my bed. That’s where I keep my favorites. Easy access. Don’t have to dig through all the mounds of stuff on my floor. Drives my mom nuts, how I have my room laid out. But really, she doesn’t understand. It may look chaotic, but it’s actually quite organized.
Back down the stairs, through the house, don’t glance in Larry’s direction, even though he’s in the hallway now. I give him a wide berth, make a bit of a half circle. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I don’t like him in my airspace. I fly out the kitchen door and am halfway down the porch steps when my cell phone rings. It’s Lynn.
“I’m almost there,” she says. “Just passing the gas station. Are you out front?” It’s hard to hear her over the music she’s got blasting.
“Almost.” I’m running full tilt down the drive. “I’m almost there. Okay! I’m here. What should I look for? What color’s your car?”
“White,” she says. “It’s a white 2002 Toyota Echo.”
“Wow! That sounds great.” Even though I have no idea what a Toyota Echo is. And I have to say, I’m kind of stunned that out of all the color choices there are in the world, she chose something as boring as white.
Just as I’m thinking that, I spot her car coming down the road. It’s the pounding music that gives it away. I never noticed before, but there are a lot of white cars on the road.
“Whoohooo!” I yell, pumping both fists like she just made the winning score for the team. She leans on her horn. Her horn works well. It’s good and loud. Heads turn, that’s for sure. I’m waving, she’s waving. She’s got the windows of her car wide open, her auburn hair swirling around her, sunglasses on, a big smile on her face. She looks so grown up.
I get scared for a moment. It’s weird. Doesn’t make sense. I mean, she’s my friend. She’s bought a car. This is exciting. Something she’s been saving for. So why do I feel like somebody punched me in the gut? Like it’s the beginning of the end and she’s outgrown me already, just doesn’t know it yet. I should have brought my sunglasses too.
Chapter Two
“Hop in,” she says, just like a character in a book or movie. I open the door and get in.
“This is totally awesome!” I say, and we smile at each other as she pulls out. I strap in, but I do it casually, like an afterthought, so it doesn’t look like I don’t trust her driving skills.
We are sailing down the road, free as birds, and now that I’m inside, the music is so loud it’s vibrating the fillings in my teeth. I have to admit, I misjudged this car. It doesn’t seem staid to me at all anymore. Not one bit. The air inside is electrified. We’ve just entered
a whole new world. The world of people who ride in cars without parents, and I’m glad I’ve got my good-luck sweatshirt on.
“Where shall we go?” Lynn asks. She really does look like a movie star. It’s like somebody sprinkled that extra something over her that she didn’t have before. An extra something that I don’t have. I feel awkward, sort of tongue-tied, which is ridiculous. This is Lynn. We’ve been best friends since eighth grade, for crying out loud.
“Um...” I say. I can’t come up with a single stupid idea. “I don’t know, what do you think?” How lame is that?
“Haley,” Lynn says, giving me that look.
“Um...” I think fast, unglue my brain. “How about Dairy Queen?”
“Okay.” Lynn shrugs. “Dairy Queen it is then.” She jerks the steering wheel hard. Pulls a U-turn right in the middle of the road. I’m not expecting it, so I don’t have my body set. I thought she was going to pull into a drive to turn around or something, but she didn’t. Lynn’s kind of a daredevil.
“Whoa!” I say, my hands reaching out to grab the door, the dashboard, to steady myself. She laughs like I’m a comedian, and I laugh too.
We ride for a while with the wind blasting our faces. The sun is setting, streaking the sky between the trees with dusky gold and tangerine, and it’s beautiful. I don’t know what is better, watching the sunset through the windshield or the reflection of it dancing across Lynn’s sunglasses. It’s one of those moments where I want the world to stop, time to hold still, so I can just take my time and savor it. Because magical moments like this, they don’t happen that often. I catch my breath, like maybe that will make it pause, but it doesn’t work. Time keeps barreling forward. Lynn makes a left and the sunset is to the side of us now, lost behind a thick bank of trees.
Chapter Three
Dairy Queen is a bit of a letdown. Nobody we know is there. Nobody to watch us arrive in Lynn’s car. No one oohing and ahhing with envy. I don’t piss and moan about it though. Don’t want her to remember whose idea it was. Instead I act like I really had a craving for ice cream and splurge on a Pecan Mudslide. Then it’s Lynn’s turn to order, but instead of getting some kind of ice-cream thing like she usually does, she says, “I’ll have a coffee, please.”
Coffee? I look at her to see if she’s joking, but she doesn’t appear to be. Since when does Lynn drink coffee?
And then I see the way she’s smiling at the guy at the till, and the whole “coffee” thing starts making sense. It’s some guy who graduated from our school last year. He’s got that whole casually tossed, carefully styled, highlighted hair thing going on, a tiny silver lightning bolt pierced through his earlobe, a poet’s patch lurking under his lower lip. He was one of the hotshots of the graduating class. What was his name? I can’t remember. I think it was Chazz or something like that. I’m kind of surprised to see him working here. I would have thought he’d be at university somewhere, on a sports scholarship or something.
Now, normally this kind of guy wouldn’t give us the time of day. He’d never even glance in our direction. But he must see what I noticed in Lynn on the car ride over, because he’s looking at her like he’s a hungry dog.
“One Pecan Mudslide,” he says. And even though it’s my purchase he’s sliding across the counter, I could just as well be the soft-ice-cream machine. “And...” He does a drumroll. “Coffee for the lovely lady.” He winks at Lynn. How cheesy is that? Who the hell winks in this day and age?
“Come on,” I say, grabbing my ice cream. “Let’s sit over here.” I think she’s following me, but when I plop down in my seat, I can see that the guy is still chatting her up. He’s giving her a pen, a napkin, and now she’s writing her name and phone number down. This guy is way too old for her, but there’s nothing I can do about it. So I eat my ice cream and pretend like I’m enjoying it.
When Lynn finally makes her way to our table, it’s like she’s only half there. Her body is with me, sipping nasty, bitter coffee, but her mind, her smile—they’re still hanging out with Chad. Apparently that’s his name, Chad. Sheesh, even his name reeks of corn.
Chapter Four
“He hasn’t called yet,” Lynn says, spinning her combination lock back around, landing on 32.
“Well...” I’m pretending like I don’t understand it either, but really, I don’t know what Lynn’s been smoking. This guy’s not going to call some starry-eyed eleventh grader no matter how cute she is. “It’s only been two days,” I say. “Maybe he lost it or something.”
She jerks hard on her lock and it opens with a snick. “I doubt it.” Lynn slams her books in her locker and takes out her lunch. “He probably came to his senses. Why would he want to date me? He probably thinks I’m a loser.”
“Isn’t that a little extreme? Maybe he’s busy. Maybe he already has a girlfriend.”
“Then why,” Lynn says patiently, like I’m really stupid, “would he ask for my number?”
“Because he’s an asshole?” I say helpfully.
“Oh, shut up.” She whacks me on the arm. Not hard. Not in a mean way.
“Maybe he likes collecting phone numbers so he can feel like a hotshot. Relive his glory days.”
“Give me a break. Chad wouldn’t do that.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know. The guy’s perfect.” No way to argue with that kind of logic, so I keep my mouth shut while Lynn closes her locker. We swing by the bathroom so she can give her hair a brush, reapply her strawberry lip-gloss. I put some on too, and then we head out to the field.
I think she’s going to let the subject drop, but I’m no more than two bites into my tuna fish sandwich when she starts up again.
“Do you think he’s going to call?”
“Who?”
“Chad,” Lynn says impatiently.
It’s really a no-win situation. “I don’t know,” I say. “What about Dwayne? I thought you were going out with him.”
“Oh puleaze!”
“What? I thought you were.”
“I’m done with him,” Lynn snorts in disgust.
“He’s too young. So babyish!”
“But...” I say, feeling slightly panicky.
“He’s our age.”
“So what. He doesn’t act like it. Last weekend we went for a hike.”
“Um-hmm...” I nod. I don’t know what’s so wrong with going for a hike.
“Well, I packed a nice picnic lunch, brought a blanket. I even bribed my brother to buy me a bottle of Baby Duck.”
She shakes her head. Bites into her carrot angrily.
“I went through all that trouble to make it nice and romantic. But does he do anything? No! I even pretended to fall asleep when he was feeling me up for Christ’s sake! So he wouldn’t feel shy about trying to go further. I mean, what more does he want?”
Lynn throws her hands up in disgust. “No. I’m done with Dwayne. We’ve been going out for six months now, and the most he ever wants to do is kiss and touch my breasts. And it takes at least an hour for him to work up the courage to do that!”
It’s funny how she’s mad about Dwayne being so shy and respectful of her.
There is a cheer at the end of the field. Some of the guys are playing soccer. Ricky is running around pumping his fists in the air. He must have scored.
“I wonder what it’s like,” Lynn says after a long pause.
“What what’s like? Soccer?” It’s kind of hard to follow her.
“No. You know. What it’s like. Doing it. I want to know.” There’s such longing in her voice. Such curiosity. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be her.
She turns to face me. “What do you think it looks like?”
My face flushes. An image flashes into my head, but she can’t possibly be talking about that. We never talk as frankly as that.
“What?” My voice squeaks a bit.
“You know, their thing,” she says, laughing at the expression on my face. “Have you ever seen one?”
“
No!” I say, even though I have. I’ve seen Larry’s. It happened last week. He’d accidentally left the bathroom door open. I guess he was getting ready to take a piss. Maybe he thought I’d already left for school. I don’t know. Anyway, I walked by.
“Oops,” he’d said, turning to give me the full-on view. He was dressed for work, suit, tie, polished black shoes, matching belt, and then there was his penis, all mottled and limp, lying in his hand.
“Haley,” he’d said, smiling slightly, as if I’d walked by on purpose to take a peek. I turned away quickly, cheeks flaming, and walked away. I thought I heard him laugh, but I’m not sure. It might have been the back screen door slamming behind me.
I want to tell Lynn it’s not so great, seeing one. It’s not so special. Kind of disgusting if you want to know the truth, but how do I tell her that? What would she think? That I was spying on my mom’s new boyfriend taking a pee?
“I wonder what it looks like.” Lynn interrupts my thoughts.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“I wonder what it looks like hard.”
There is another cheer at the end of the field.
“Oh look,” I say, jumping to my feet. “Somebody scored again.” I pretend to watch for a couple of seconds and then say, “Hey, you want to go for a walk? I want to get a drink from the cafeteria.”
Lynn starts laughing. “Oh, Haley, you are such an innocent.” Like she’s oh-so-sophisticated.
“I am not,” I say, turning away from her, heading for the school. By the time she catches up with me, my face is back to its normal color.
Chapter Five
It’s colder today. There was frost on the train tracks this morning as I was walking to school. It made them kind of slippery. But does the cold deter Lynn? No, she wants ice cream. Not just any ice cream. It was decided at lunch that we were going to go to Dairy Queen after school. And don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I don’t have to walk home today...but Dairy Queen again?