Feels Like the First Time

by Casey McMillin

  During the last few months, I started to believe that I deserve a second shot at life, and because of that, found myself wanting to play catch-up on the things I'd missed. I hadn't taken lessons of any kind—not art, music, nor sports, and certainly not riding lessons.

  I wanted to learn things.

  I wanted to better myself, and I took advantage of anything that was at my disposal. What's that Ben Cross? You'll teach me how to ride a horse? Yes. I'll do that. What, Mark at the radio station? You'll let me get on the air with you so I get the experience? Yes. I'll do that too. I was eager to make up for lost time, and felt focused and determined to make something of myself.

  It would have been really easy to give up, quit, and say I was fucked up because of what happened to me. I could probably live for free at Earl and Coleen's for the rest of my life as a token of their guilt about what my aunt did to me, but now that I was on the path of self-improvement instead of self-pity, the feelings of accomplishment were addictive, and I found myself wanting to keep pushing forward.

  I was working at Brady's on a cold Wednesday night in the middle of December. I knew how cold it was because Thomas and I had just been outside emptying the trash. You can imagine my shock when I returned to find my aunt sitting at a table with an untouched basket of fries in front of her. She was looking down at her phone and hadn't seen me come in.

  I considered my options.

  My initial reaction was to turn and walk out the back door to avoid having to talk to her, but I knew she'd just stick around till she said whatever she wanted to say. I had no idea what that would be. I'd thought about this moment a lot, but could never come up with a predictable scenario. It could be an apology or a tongue-lashing—I had no clue whatsoever.

  She was dressed nice in sleek black clothing with a colorful, striped shawl draped over her shoulders. I walked straight up to her table. "What are you doing?"

  Her gaze snapped up to meet mine. "Hey, uh hey, Jovi. How's it going?" She smiled up at me and spoke in that same high-pitched vulnerable, barely audible voice she always used. She told me one time that guys thought it was sexy. At that moment, it just made me want to puke.

  "I'm fine. What are you doing here?"

  She looked offended that I felt the need to ask the question twice.

  "I'm here to see you obviously, Jovi."

  I stared at her for a few seconds before resolving to sit down and have a conversation. The restaurant was slow and I knew I could probably clock out. I figured Brady's was as good a place as any to talk to her. I sighed, showing just how much I was looking forward to talking to her. "Let me go see if I can clock out," I said.

  I turned to go to the kitchen feeling shaky and anxious at the thought of her being there. The owner told me I could clock out, which I did. I grabbed my purse from the office and went back out to the dining room, taking off my nametag and untucking my shirt as I walked.

  "What's up?" I asked as I sat down across from her in the old, two-seater booth.

  "I could ask you the same thing," she said.

  I stared at her for a few seconds. "I was working."

  "I can see that."

  "How are you here? I thought you were in legal trouble from everythin—"

  "I was smart enough to not leave any paper trails over the years, and my attorney says they really don't have anything if you're not pressing charges. Basically there's nothing they can do."

  My aunt hadn't seen me since I've figured out how messed up the last four years had been, and it was obvious that she thought she'd have a friend when she showed up.

  "I was thinking you'd come back to New York." She blinked at me with a smile that I wanted to slap right off of her face."

  "Are you asking me to go back and work with you again?"

  She must have known from my expression that I thought she was crazy because she gave me another offended look. "I'd be doing you a favor. You can't possibly want to stay here." She gestured around her to the itty-bitty, ancient dining room and regarded me with a look of confusion.

  "Are you seriously asking me to work for you again?"

  "You had a birthday last week. You're an adult now, Jovi. I though you'd be relieved to get back to the city after being in this shithole."

  "It's not a shithole," I whispered defensively.

  "So you plan on staying here?" she asked with a disgusted look on her face.

  "What's wrong with that?" I asked. I was trying not to draw too much attention to our table, but I was frustrated, and it was obvious by the way I spoke. "It's not bad here. Earl's a good guy. It was Nana who left him and never came back."

  "So you're just gonna live in this Podunk town with your hillbilly grandfather for the rest of your life?"

  "I'm doing more in this Podunk little town than I ever did in New York."

  "Like flipping burgers?"

  I knew she was trying to hold me down and I wanted to tell her what a bitch she was for it, but I just closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath wondering what Dr. Briggs would do. I stared her down before speaking, and when I did, it was in a calm, measured tone that was just above a whisper.

  "This establishment, I'll have you know, has been around since 1948. It is a town landmark, everyone comes here, and I have fun working here, or I wouldn't do it. And I do not flip the burgers; I just bring them to the customer. Also, I learned how to ride a horse and my P.E. coach said she wants me to run the 400 meter for the track team this year. And don't forget that I have another job doing something I absolutely love and am getting good at, but you wouldn't have any idea what that is because you never thought to ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up." The pain of unshed tears stung my eyes, but I held them back. "You had no interest in me other than what I could do for you Aunt Alicia."

  It was something I didn't know the last time I saw her, and she was shocked to hear me say it. I had come to understand that with certainty over the past few months, but it was the first time I said it out loud and it hurt a little bit to put it in words.

  She stared at me for a second before flashing me a not even close to genuine smile. "I gave you a good life you ungrateful little bitch."

  I regarded her with an equally fake smile. "I was an innocent little kid and you turned me into a whore. I think that makes you the bitch, bitch." I smiled again, challenging her to say anything else.

  She tried not to show it, but I could tell my statement shocked her. "You were a whore before I ever got a hold of you or you never would have agreed to do it in the first place." She smiled again.

  To anyone else it would have looked like we were holding a decent conversation.

  "If what you did was okay, you wouldn't have been arrested for it, you fucking asshole," I said smiling.

  "If you wouldn't like to get fucked in your asshole so much, we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place."

  "That doesn't even make sense, you stupid bitch."

  She took a shaky, deep breath and clutched her purse to her chest as if she was about to leave. She looked at me with a murderous expression. "You're not gonna want to be in this shithole forever, and don't you dare come crying to me when you get tired of your pathetic little life. You're dead to me you ungrateful little whore."

  "I feel sorry for you Aunt Alicia. You're gonna get old and those men won't want you any more, and meanwhile I'm gonna make something of myself."

  "Good luck with that you ugly little bitch."

  "Good luck with that fucking haircut," I said.

  She stood and left without saying another word. We'd been sitting by a window and I watched her pull off in a rented SUV.

  "Who was that?" Thomas said, coming to sit down in the seat where Alicia had been.

  "My aunt," I said, still shaking.

  "I thought she was probably related to you," he said. "You guys look a lot alike."

  I laughed with no humor. "Don't say that."

  "I meant you're both pretty. I know she's older than you—"


  "I'm nothing like her," I said. I stared at Thomas with an impassive glare and obviously he got the picture.

  "Okay, you're nothing like her," he said. "Is everything okay?" he asked, realizing for the first time that it had been an unpleasant visit.

  "I'm fine, I just don't want to talk about my aunt anymore." Thomas got lost in thought staring at the untouched basket of fries, and I could see his brows furrow and his head cock as he studied the basket. He stared at the fries for so long and with such concern that I began to wonder.

  "What's wrong?" I asked.

  "I can see why you don't want to talk to your aunt anymore."

  My heart dropped even though I had no idea what he was talking about.

  "What?"

  He pointed at the basket of fries. "It says Jovi Mitchell is a prostitute."

  My gut clinched and I couldn't believe that he was actually saying the words that were coming out of his mouth. I reached for the basket of fries immediately and snatched them up. A small piece of paper remained on the table, and the sentence he had just read was scribbled across the bottom of it. I stared at it, unable to make myself believe she had actually done that. I thought back to our conversation and tried to remember if I ever saw her write anything down. Was it already tucked under the fries before she ever even spoke to me? What kind of sick, twisted individual would even write something like that?

  "Why would she write something like that?" he asked, reading my mind.

  I wanted to cry my eyes out, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to. My jaw ached and my face wanted to contort into tears, but I made myself keep it together.

  "She wrote that because that's what she is," I said, hoping it would be enough.

  "You need to tell Gary if she comes back," Thomas said.

  "She's not coming back."

  "No wonder you don't want to look like that ugly bitch," Thomas said. He could tell I was about to cry and he was trying to make me feel better. It sort of worked because he never ever cussed and it sounded kind of funny coming from him.

  "Thanks for calling her that," I said as I stood up and put my purse over my shoulder. "I called her that to her face when she was here."

  "No way!" he said. "I thought you were sitting over here having a good ole time."

  "We were smiling, but we were cussing each other out the whole time. We probably both need to wash our mouths out with soap after what just happened in here."

  "That's so messed up," he said. "Are you okay?"

  "I have no idea," I said honestly. I shrugged and smiled just to assure him I wasn't suicidal or anything. I wasn't suicidal, but I was definitely shaken from the encounter. I couldn't decide how I felt about it. Part of me was relieved that it was over, part of me was hurt by how mean she was, part of me was proud of myself for standing up to her, and to my own shame, there was a teeny tiny little part of me that regretted not going back to New York with her. My emotions were all over the place and I cried most of the night, but decided not to give her any more time than that. She'd already taken enough from me and if I let her affect me to the point where I wasn't productive, then she won. I had no choice but to make myself forget about her.

  Chapter 9

  The winter passed in a blur. I stayed busy and did my best to focus on everything except my past. I stayed away from guys because when I let my thoughts go there, I started to feel a sexual yearning that I didn't really want to have fulfilled yet. The longer I went without sex, the less I started to crave it, and keeping busy really helped that. Most nights, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

  After the excitement I'd been through this particular day, I knew tonight would be one of those nights when I'd sleep like a rock. Spring was upon us, and the sky decided to open up and pour down a torrential rain while I was out riding Cucumber in the afternoon.

  I was a few miles from the house when the storm rolled in, and I took shelter in one of the neighbor's barns. Coleen told me their names once or twice before, but I'd never met them. The storm rolled in so quickly and with such a vengeance that I couldn't make it back home. I had no other choice but to lead Cucumber into their barn to wait out the worst of it.

  Once I was under the shelter of the barn, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket but the battery was dead. I was notorious about forgetting to charge my phone, and usually I didn't mind riding at 2%, but it would've been nice to have a charged phone at that moment, and all I had was a black screen. There was very little natural light, but I could see that there were a few other animals in the barn. Two horses were in the main stall near the back, and there were six or eight goats in a pen on the far right side.

  Cucumber and I found a spot near the middle of the barn where we wouldn't bother any of the other animals. I slid out of the saddle and went around to stand by her head, holding her reins. We stood there for what must have been over an hour while a violent storm continued to pound on the barn. The sounds of raindrops and thunder and goats bleating were unpleasantly loud the whole time we were in there, but Cucumber and I just stood there quietly waiting for the storm to pass.

  I had no way of knowing how long it had truly been, but I assumed it was over an hour, possibly two. It was still raining, but the storm had died down considerably when I decided to go ahead and make the trip home. I hadn't even checked with the Cross family before I took her out, and I figured they didn't even know I was gone, and probably wouldn't have missed us.

  It took us fifteen minutes to get home, and as I rode into the clearing, I could see the figure of a man standing at the barn door. It was still sprinkling, and I couldn't see very well in the misty haze but I could make out the outline of a person standing there. I hadn't considered it before, but Cucumber and I were both soaked to the bone, and it hit me for the first time that I might be in trouble for having her out in the rain. I could see by the way the figure was standing that it was a man, and I got nervous, hoping I hadn't pissed Ben Cross off.

  I blinked as I rode closer and realized to my relief that it wasn't Ben. It was one of the boys—Caleb it looked like. I was really happy that it wasn't Ben and, at the same time, nervous that it was Caleb. I hadn't seen him in a while, and felt the strangest nervous excitement at the sight of him. Right up until the moment when I rode close enough to make out his expression. My smile dropped when I realized he was fuming, and I wondered what I'd done to get him so pissed off. I figured it was about having Cucumber out in the rain, but I was surprised to see him so worked up about it when he was usually so easy-going.

  "We took shelter in the Vinson's barn," I yelled as I approached. I could've probably waited until I got inside, but I wanted him to go ahead and chill out. He made an impatient come in motion with his hand and stood away from the big, open door to let me pass. I led Cucumber into the big, open area in the front of the barn, and both of us did our own version of a shake to get the rain off our faces.

  Caleb moved to stand beside me and held up a hand to help me down. He was still looking at me like he was frustrated which put me in a defensive mood.

  "I got it," I said, choosing to get down by myself instead of taking his hand.

  He put his hands on me as if he wanted to catch me as I climbed down. I looked down at him.

  "I can't believe my dad lets you ride her by yourself," he said. He motioned for me to get down and held his hand out telling me to let him catch me.

  "I got it," I said. "Just move."

  "Let me help you," he said. "I've been looking for you for an hour. I thought you were dead. I can't believe my dad let you take her out by yourself. She's too big for you and I told him that."

  "She is not too big for me. I'm perfectly fine taking her out by myself. We got stuck in that storm and I took shelter. It's no big deal. We're both fine."

  "I'm not worried about her, Jovi. I'm worried about you. You shouldn't be riding her by yourself—not even on a clear day."

  "Why do you keep saying that? I ride her b
y myself all the time. Your dad doesn't seem to have a problem with it."

  "My dad didn't ride around in a storm the last hour thinking you were dead somewhere," he said.

  He was standing next to me, towering over me, trying to look intimidating, but I just smiled up at him.

  "You got taller in college," I said. "Either that, or you've just never breathed down my neck like this before."

  His expression remained serious as he took in my bedraggled appearance. He reached up to wipe a wet lock of hair from in front of my eye, and the contact sent a wave of desire through me that felt like a freaking electric shock. It had been way too long since I'd been touched by a man, and this one, all protective and angry like he was, was too much for me to handle.

  I turned away, looking at Cucumber who was still standing next to us. He reached up and used a finger to pull my chin back toward him. "It's not that I don't think you're a capable rider. Cucumber's just too big for you."

  "No she's not," I said, "and what's the worst that could happen anyway?"

  "A lot could happen, Jovi. She's a massive animal." He looked at me with a genuinely concerned expression. "You shouldn't go out by yourself. What if a snake bit her and she threw you?" Then he appeared to have remembered something. "And why didn't you answer your phone? You should've at least had your phone with you."

  "You don't even have my number."

  "Yes I do. I got it from my sister. But that's not even the point. The point is, that you didn't pick it up."

  "It's dead." I took it out of my back pocket and flashed it at him as if that were supposed to prove my point.

  "You scared me to death," he said, shaking his head.

  I should have been offended that he didn't have more faith in me, but something about his protectiveness made me forget all about that. He was standing close to me, and my breath hitched when I realized I wanted to reach out and touch him. I was desperate for the touch of a man, and right then, he was specifically the one I wanted.

  "I'm sorry I scared you," I said, breaking the silence. He took half a step back as my statement drew him back to the present. "I made what I thought was the right choice. We hunkered down in their barn and came home as soon as we could. How did you even know I was out with her?"