The Perfect First

by Hughes, Maya

  “And that boy was dad?”

  “Not at first. Can you cut these for the salad?” She set the cutting board and an assortment of vegetables in front of me. “I was on the verge of academic probation and he was my assigned tutor. I was still dragging your aunt out almost every night.” The faraway look in her eye didn’t match the bland tone in her voice. Her eyes sparkled while her words told the tale of a girl making every mistake in the book.

  “So how did you end up together?” The peppers crunched as I sliced them under my blade.

  “My dad died of a heart attack, and I took that to mean life was short. I barely slowed down. I couldn’t, because that would mean facing what had happened. Mom kept telling me it was a sign, said I needed to start taking things seriously.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “Even Aunt Sophie tried to rein me in, but I didn’t listen.

  “And then my mom died three months later. That was when I knew it was a sign. I was the one Aunt Sophie looked to. I was the big sister. I didn’t have a choice. Your father found me crying in the library trying to sort through the life insurance documents and other things I needed to figure out. He sat down with me and handled it all. He was so sure of himself, the even-keeled kind of boy my parents would have approved of, so when he asked me out, I said yes. And the rest, as they say, is history.”

  “You never told me any of that before.”

  “Not much to tell. We met in college, got married, and then we had you.” She pinched my cheek.

  “Do you ever wonder how your life would have turned out if your parents hadn’t died?”

  She stopped in front of the oven with a tray of rolls midway out. “I try not to.” Shaking her head, she quietly closed the oven door and gave me a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

  My fingers tightened around the handle of the knife. “Do you think I should go to Harvard?” I let it out in one breath, keeping my voice low.

  The spoon she’d been stirring the pot of gravy with rattled against the edge. “You’re thinking of staying in Philadelphia?” She shot a glance over her shoulder.

  “I’ve been trying to make a decision.”

  “Does your father know?”

  I snorted and peered over at her.

  “Of course not.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “Well, you know your own mind better than anyone else.” Leaning in, she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me like it might be her last chance. I held on to her tightly, resting my head on her shoulder.

  Mom poured wine into the glasses in front of her.

  The doorbell rang and my head shot up right alongside Mom’s. My phone, which was in my pocket, hadn’t buzzed since I’d come down. I sent up a silent prayer. Please tell me Reece got my message. Maybe this was someone whose car had broken down on their way to their own warm family Thanksgiving. Just please not Reece.

  22

  Reece

  Standing on her doorstep, I rang the bell. The guys had thought I was crazy when I’d told them where I was going, Reece Michaels pulling a Meet the Parents without a gun to his head, but they hadn’t had to look into her eyes when she found out I hadn’t told her we’d be only a few miles apart today. It was a barb straight to the heart. I’d have to suck up my fears about not measuring up and do this for her.

  On the bus ride into the city, I felt like I should have been cramming for a big exam. What was I supposed to say to the parents of a genius like Seph? How many seconds would it take for them to realize she was way out of my league?

  My level of concentration during the game had been absolute shit, and Coach’s growl had shot straight across the field, his face a heart attack-inducing crimson as he’d stood with his hands on his hips.

  I’d dropped my head and jogged off the field.

  He’d stalked right over to me and grabbed me by my facemask. Shaking the white bars in front of my face, he’d thunked the top of my helmet. The vibrations had gone straight through my skull.

  “What in the hell are you doing out there?” His voice had been low and level.

  “Sorry, Coach.” I’d dropped the ball—again. Unsnapping the chin strap of my helmet, I’d tugged it off my head. The warm sweat warred with the freezing air and they’d fought it out on the tips of my ears.

  “Do you know how many scouts are here watching you tonight and you pull something like that?” He’d jabbed his finger out toward the field where I’d lost all ability to perform.

  “A lot.”

  “You’re damn right it’s a lot. Are you sick or something?” Concern had shone in his eyes.

  Standing out in the middle of the field with the eyes of thousands of screaming fans and rival fans on me, scouts taking notes about my every move, I hadn’t been fazed. However, knowing I’d be sitting in Seph’s family’s house in less than a couple of hours meant the spikes of anxiety hadn’t stopped.

  I’d tugged at the neck of my jersey, shifting my pads on my shoulders, the newly exposed skin tightening in the freezing weather. I couldn’t wait for the pros where the sidelines were dotted with heat cannons to keep players from freezing their balls off in the winter.

  It had been two days since I’d seen Seph. How had she so quickly become someone I looked forward to seeing almost every day? We’d fallen into a routine of almost daily meet-ups without even realizing it. I wiped my hands on the legs of my pants and bounced in the cold Boston air. Tiny flurries drifted down from the sky.

  I’d have to be on my best behavior at her house, but I’d still get to see her, and that was good enough to tide me over until Sunday when her flight landed.

  The second the post-game press conference had finished, I’d bolted with my button-down, sweater, and ironed pants. My black shoes were shined and I’d jammed my hands into the pockets of my slacks, waiting for the door to open.

  All the other doors on the street were red, blue, and some even yellow. Decorative wreaths made of fall leaves or other seasonal decorations dotted each one, their shutters painted to match, or sometimes covered in designs. Seph’s house had black slatted shutters, no flower boxes or wreath.

  Inside my pocket, I wrapped my fingers around the gift I’d gotten her. It wasn’t Christmas yet, but there didn’t have to be a reason to get someone something special. She deserved it, and she needed it. There were only so many ways I could tell her she wasn’t like anyone else I’d ever met. She needed to believe that.

  The doorknob turned and Seph’s head popped out. Her eyes widened and she glanced over her shoulder.

  The happiness I’d thought I’d see on her face when I showed up wasn’t even close to the look she gave me. This expression verged on fear. Stepping outside, she pulled the door behind her, leaving only a gap.

  “What are you doing here? Didn’t you get my message?”

  “Yeah, I saw it. Did you think I’d chicken out or something?” I searched her face for clues about what had changed between yesterday and today. “I wanted to spend Thanksgiving with you.”

  The tightness in her shoulders relaxed and her lips parted.

  “Persephone, who is it?” A loud voice came from behind her then the door opened fully.

  Her back went straight and she sucked in a sharp breath. She darted a look over her shoulder, and her jaw tightened.

  “Dad, this is Reece.” Her words were tight and brittle like they might crack at any moment. “The friend I invited to dinner.”

  “I thought you said he couldn’t make it in time.”

  “His plans changed.” Each of her words was like a carefully plotted course. She stepped back into the house, her father backing up, giving me enough room to enter.

  I stepped inside the townhouse’s dark brown door. Some of the food was already out on the table. I glanced at Seph.

  Her head dipped. “Sorry, when the game went into overtime, I knew you’d be late. I didn’t want you to rush to get here.” Her hands were clasped in front of her.

  “We value punctuality greatly in this family.” Her dad st
ood behind Seph like four hundred pound linebacker out for blood.

  “I apologize for my lateness.” I stepped forward and extended my hand. “I’m Reece Michaels. I had a game that ran late.”

  He stared down at my hand like I’d offered him an old shoe before begrudgingly shaking it. “Dr. Alexander. So you’re an athlete?”

  “I’m a football player.”

  I hadn’t thought the deep set of his frown could get any lower, but it did then. He looked like one of the grumpy Muppets from the balcony.

  “I see.”

  A door swung open and a woman came through the doorway between the living room and the dining room. She was an older version of Seph.

  “You must be Reece. It’s so nice to meet you.” She held out her hand and shook mine. “I’m Helen.”

  “Nice to meet you, Helen.”

  “Let me get your coat.”

  I unbuttoned it and handed it over to her. She stashed it in the closet beside the front door. The entire time, Seph stood there with her hands clasped in front of her like she was a cadet in etiquette school.

  Her father spun on his heels and disappeared from the room.

  Only then did Seph reanimate, lifting her head and looking at me.

  “The next course is almost ready. I can put some of it on your plate, if you’d like.” Her mom wiped her hands on the spotless apron wrapped around her waist.

  “I’m sure there’s more than enough food coming. It smells wonderful.”

  Helen’s cheeks pinked up and she nodded, heading back into the kitchen.

  I took Seph’s hand and threaded my fingers through hers, the soft warmth of her hand melting the winter chill I’d felt being away from her for the past few days. “What’s up with you? Are you okay?” I needed to soak up as much of her as I could, but she was so jumpy.

  Her gaze darted to the open doorway. “I want to apologize in advance.” She nibbled on her bottom lip.

  “Stop, or you won’t have any left.” I smoothed my thumb across her lip. “I’ll be fine. How bad can it get?”

  “Persephone,” her dad called from the other room. Her entire body went rigid and she squeezed my hand before relaxing.

  “You’re right. Let’s get in there.”

  We sat at the table, and the ticking hands of the clock made the only sounds other than silverware clinking against plates. Every sound was amplified by the fact that no one spoke. Each wipe of my mouth with the cloth napkin on my lap sounded like I was shattering glass against the wall.

  Even I jumped at the shrill ping of someone’s phone. Everyone stopped.

  Her dad picked up his phone and shoved back his chair. “I need to take this.”

  “Arthur…” Her mom glanced to me, her dad shot her a look, and she clammed up. What the hell is going on? As he left the room, it felt like the air flowed back in.

  Seph and her mom were no longer as careful with every movement and every word. A sinking pit formed in my stomach as the pieces of what was going on fell into place. I wanted to be wrong. Please let me be wrong, because if I’m right, I’m not going to be able to stop myself from kicking Dr. Alexander’s ass.

  “Reece, tell me more about yourself.” Her mom leaned forward.

  “I’m a senior and a football player.”

  “He’s entering the draft. He’ll be a professional player, and he’s been instrumental in getting our team to the championship.” Seph’s pride made my heart swell. She wasn’t embarrassed by me. She was proud of me, and I didn’t take that lightly.

  “There are other people on the team too. It’s a group effort. Everyone’s worked really hard to get us to this point.”

  “That’s wonderful that you’re all doing so well.”

  My phone vibrated in my pocket. I took it out to silence it.

  “Who is it?” Seph leaned over.

  “It’s my dad.” I moved to turn off the ringer.

  “Please take the call. It’s your dad and it’s Thanksgiving. I’m sure he wants to make sure you’re okay.” Helen shooed me from the table.

  I smiled at her and got up from my chair, walking into the living room.

  “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”

  “How are you?” It was the question he asked after every game. He’d know if he watched even one.

  “I’m fine.”

  “No hard hits out there?”

  “Nope, not one. I did drop a pass though.”

  “Why? What happened? Is something wrong with your hands?” His voice was part worried, part hopeful.

  “I had a lot on my mind and my head wasn’t in the game. It’s nothing.”

  “It’s quiet for a team Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “I’m not with the team. I’m at Seph’s house.” Staring out the window, I watched more flurries float down, a barely there layer coating the ground.

  He made a knowing and pleased humming sound. “Pretty serious.”

  “She invited me and since I was in town anyway, it would have been rude to turn her down.” A few people walked down the street and knocked on the door of the house opposite Seph’s. Someone threw the door open and tugged the other person into their arms, their laughter filling the air. I wanted to hold my hands up to the warmth of their embrace. A little different from what I’d been greeted with at the Alexander house.

  The call was quiet, the background noise of Mom and Ethan arguing over the next movie and the sound of the TV filtering through the speaker. “I’m glad you’re safe. We’ll miss you today.”

  “I miss you guys too.”

  He cleared his throat. “Your mom wants to talk to you.”

  “Save me a piece of fudge pie,” I called out, trying to catch him before he handed over the phone. There was no way Mom, Ethan, or Becca would save me a piece if I left it up to them.

  Their muffled voices and a scratching sound filled my ear, like he had the phone pressed against his chest.

  “You’re with Seph at her parents’ house!” My mom’s squeal nearly blew out my eardrums.

  “Jesus, Mom. I don’t think they heard you across the entire tri-state area.”

  “Here I was worried you’d be missing us for Thanksgiving, but you’re with Seph. I’m sure we’re the last thing on your mind.”

  “Of course I miss you guys.”

  “Aww, we miss you too, but that’s not enough to butter me up to save you a piece of fudge pie—although I will set one aside for Seph.”

  “That’s mean.” I laughed and turned, my muscles tensing at the figure in the doorway.

  “Now you’ve got an incentive to bring her by again. Maybe she’ll share her piece with you.”

  Seph’s dad gave me a disapproving look. I swore it was the only expression he had. “The next course will be ready shortly.”

  “I’ll be right there, just wishing my family a happy Thanksgiving.”

  He gave a curt nod and disappeared from the room. Mr. Sunshine and Happiness over there. It was a wonder Seph could speak to anyone at all. If her mom hadn’t been around, Seph would have been like those lab monkeys raised without human affection or comfort.

  “We’re eating soon, Mom. I’ve got to go.”

  “Love you, sweetie. Great game.” At least Mom checked the scores, although they didn’t watch the games. “We’ll see you soon.” Her voice pitched up at the end.

  “Yes, I’ll stop by soon. Love you.”

  Ending the call, I walked back into the dining room. Seph sat with her back so straight and pressed flush against the chair. She looked a lot like she had the first time I’d seen her, not a hair out of place.

  I dropped my hand onto her shoulder. She jumped and her head snapped up, eyes softening when she saw me. I ran my thumb over her wool sweater.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  “Of course. My dad was checking in on me like always, and they wanted to tease me about eating all the fudge pie.”

  “It was so good.” She got the dreamy look in her eye that everyone got w
hen remembering the dark, rich flavor.

  “She said she’d save you a piece for the next time you came by.”

  Seph’s head jerked back a little. “Am I going by again?”

  “We’re not leaving a piece of pie unclaimed. Yeah, we’ll go.” I bumped my shoulder against hers and she smiled at me. Lifting her hand, I threaded my fingers through hers. Her pulse jumped wildly under my touch.

  The door from the kitchen pushed open and her mom stepped through with two dishes in her oven mitt-covered hands.

  Seph released my hand and scooted her chair back. “Mom, you were supposed to let me help you.” She jumped up and grabbed one of the dishes from her mom’s hand, slipping the mitt onto hers.

  I stood and moved the wine glasses to give her a landing pad for the piping hot dishes.

  “There are plenty of other dishes to bring out.”

  “How can I help?”

  Her mom smiled at me and the corners of her eyes crinkled. She looked so much like Seph. Other than the small streaks of gray in her hair, it wouldn’t be hard to imagine her as Seph’s older sister.

  “Can you open the bottles of wine on the table? There’s a corkscrew on the bar cart in the corner.”

  “On it.”

  The two of them disappeared into the kitchen and I grabbed the corkscrew. Twisting it down into the cork, I popped open the bottle of white wine. It was one I’d seen in Nix’s parents’ wine cellar, which meant it couldn’t have been cheap. I opened the other bottle and set them both on the table.

  “Persephone is quite an exceptional talent.”

  I winced, the muscles in my body tightening. Was he a freaking vampire or something? What was with sneaking up on people like this?

  “She is. I’ve never met anyone like her before.”

  “And you never will. Her potential for growth is above and beyond what she’s already accomplished.” He lifted the bottle of red and poured a small bit into the glass, swirling it around.

  “I’d say she’s already accomplished a lot.”