Her First Kiss_Londons story

by Mj Fields

  We tell them the story of how we met that first day.

  “I nearly gave her a black eye, so I definitely owed her one,” Fletcher says, seeming a little less uncomfortable.

  Jamie smiles. “Okay, you have one point toward the required friendship total.”

  “And how many points are required?” he asks.

  “I’m not sure. I’m kind of making this up as I go.” She laughs, and so do the rest of us.

  “We do the swim thing a couple days a week, and he accompanies me to dance class on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s.” I reach over and touch his cream cable knit sweater. “Yeah, I think he’s friendship material.”

  “Both of which I need just as much as you, Elle. Don’t sell yourself short.” He gives my arm a squeeze.

  “You need help?” Christy asks.

  He nods. “Unfortunately, I need more help than that.”

  “No way. We’ve seen you do skits in lab; you’re fabulous.”

  “I agree, but he’s stressing auditions,” I tell them.

  Jamie leans over and whispers something to Lisa, then Lisa whispers to Christy, and they nod to Jamie.

  “Fletcher, you must solemnly swear that nothing you see, learn, or hear within this friendship quintet spills over to your obligations as our Lawrinson RA.”

  He raises his hand in the air as if under oath. “I swear.”

  Jamie stands and looks at us all. “All in favor of Fletcher becoming part of the circle, say aye.”

  “Aye,” we all parrot.

  Jamie sits. “We’ve been thinking that the three of us need some work with vocal, too.”

  “Well, if you want to join us at five—”

  “No!” they all yell, and then we all fall into a fit of giggles.

  “Well then,” Fletcher jokes.

  “Are you kidding me? Sleep is important.” Lisa shrugs. “But so is our time together.”

  “And since we seem to be spending less and less time together as we all get into our routines, we’ve looked into a way to spend more girl,” Christy pauses. “Or now...” She stops and tries to think of a different term.

  “Squad time?” Lisa offers.

  Jamie grins. “Oh, wow, we are a squad.”

  I can’t help grinning, too. It feels good to finally have a group of friends, true friends.

  “Squad time. I like it,” Jamie agrees.

  “Squad time, it is.” Christy declares. “In looking at ways for more squad time, while considering that we are here for a common objective, an education, but still it’s about the music and more importantly our friendship and our time together.”

  “Since you two seem to be spending a lot of time together,” Christy adds.

  How can just one sentence make things suddenly feel awkward?

  “We have a lot in common,” Fletcher remarks, making it a little less so.

  “Like what?” Lisa asks.

  He chuckles uncomfortably at her question, looks down at his watch, and seems to position it. “Well, I suppose it’s the same as all of us. Music speaks to us.”

  “It sure does,” Jamie agrees.

  “Fletcher, being part of the squad, we’ll extend the invitation to you. It’s last minute, and being new to us, you can opt out.” She looks at me. “Elle, you don’t get the same courtesy.”

  Jamie smirks. “We know you don’t have any other plans.”

  “Well, maybe I do,” I defend dramatically, finishing with a gasp.

  “We know you, Elle.” Christy sighs. “Thursday is off-campus dance class, shower, dinner, lab, bed, alarm at four thirty, snooze until four forty-five, then out the door.”

  I smile. Outside and in, my squad knows me well.

  “We’re hitting Sound tonight.” Christy claps her hands.

  “Isn’t that a twenty-one and over club?” Fletcher asks.

  “It is. Remember, your squad now,” Jamie reminds him.

  He holds his hands up. “Okay, I’ll keep your secrets as long as I get invited to the slumber parties and pillow—” Fletcher stops mid-sentence when the empty chair bedside me screeches across the floor.

  Fletcher’s lips do a little twitch, and then he looks away.

  When I see Mitch sit across the table, I know it’s Logan next to me.

  “Hey.” Mitch smiles at Jamie.

  She rolls her eyes and looks away. “Hey.”

  I look over at Logan and nod. “Hi.”

  “Spill it.” He acts annoyed.

  “Spill what?” I’m confused.

  “Secrets that involve sleepovers with guys who are supposed to be responsible for keeping you freshies in check.”

  Christy forces a laugh. “You two have already had one with us, and we didn’t even make you take the oath to the squad.”

  “We don’t do squad. We do team,” Logan tells her.

  “Well then, we can’t tell you.” Jamie looks at him like he’s as annoying to her as Mitch, and my heart hurts momentarily for her. I know it must be awful to have spent a night with a guy who doesn’t seem to see the fault in what he did by then acting as if nothing was wrong or recognizing the countless stop signs she puts up when he does come around.

  Logan smirks. “Even though my dad gave you ladies four tickets to his private box for Saturday’s home game?”

  Jamie’s face changes from annoyed to overjoyed, then confusion all in a three-second span. “Number 12, Lucas Links, the Lucas Links, invited me to join him in his private box?” she asks for clarification.

  Logan shakes his head and sighs. “He invited the four of you to join him and my stepmom, Tessa, to watch the game.”

  She closes her eyes and a smile starts to form on her lips again. Then she opens her eyes. “Doesn’t matter. We accept. Hand over the tickets before you change your mind or something.”

  Logan leans forward and looks at Fletcher. “You didn’t give the girls the tickets?”

  Fletcher shakes his head. “I planned to do so this evening.”

  “More interested in pillow fights and sleepovers than football?” Logan’s question is more an accusation.

  I look at Fletcher to gauge the level of offense he may have taken to Logan being...Logan

  When Mitch chuckles, I look up.

  “Can’t say I blame him.”

  Fletcher’s chest rises in a silent chuckle

  “Fix your fucking skirt,” Logan sneers at him.

  Mitch looks shocked by Logan then shrugs. “My bad, man.”

  Thankfully, Jamie is self-focused and unaware of what a dick Logan is being. “I don’t give a damn about skirts, I wanna know I am one hundred percent guaranteed that number 12, Lucas Links, personally invited me—”

  “Us,” Christy interjects.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She waves her off and looks back at Logan. “Number 12—”

  “Yes, Jamie, he invited you four ladies. To clarify, that would be Elle, you, Christy, and that girl.” Logan points at Lisa. “Not that one.” When he points at Fletcher, I want to do one of two things: go off on him or hide under the table.

  When Fletcher laughs, my harsh gaze moves from Logan to him, almost shocked because it’s unlike him. The somewhat introverted and reserved traits I have seen him display over the past few weeks haven’t lessened...until now. Fletcher only speaks when he has something fairly important to say. He admittedly likes being alone, something he told me when I invited him to dinner with us before. He is constantly looking at his watch like he can’t wait to get away from people. I asked him once if he had plans, and he said yes, to go to his room and recharge. When I looked at him oddly, he smiled softly and mentioned how people drain him. Then he told me, being an only child, he was used to alone time and honestly needed it. He also speaks slowly and softly. He doesn’t laugh at people, which he’s doing right now.

  “The fuck is so funny?” Logan snaps at him.

  “You.” Fletcher points at him.

  “Me?” Logan huffs.

  “Let me explain to you in
words you’ll understand. I am not in the least bit intimidated by you, or boys like you.”

  “You mean men,” Logan seethes.

  “I don’t need a team. I’ve done just fine without one my entire life. I’m here based on merit. I was the valedictorian of my high school.”

  “So was fucking I.” Logan laughs at him.

  “A class of over three hundred students. Where did you go to school again?” Fletcher asks.

  “None of your damn business,” Logan replies.

  “I’ve looked into you. You come from a small town, played team sports your entire life, and done very well at them.”

  “Okay, Captain Obvious.” Logan looks around the table, giving off a look like Fletcher is ridiculous.

  “You are from a well-known and wealthy family. Hometown hero type that breeds big egos and clearly poor people skills.”

  Logan pushes his chair back, and I grab his knee, stopping him. I don’t want to witness another tequila and Jones incident.

  He looks at me, blue eyes wide and wild.

  “Please don’t,” I whisper-plea to him.

  His eyes narrow at me as he sits forward.

  “I stopped running with Elle because you seemed to think it was some sort of competition,” Fletcher continues. “It wasn’t at all. It was—”

  “You were staring at her ass,” Logan says through his teeth.

  I grip his leg firmer.

  Fletcher doesn’t deny Logan’s allegation. “I may have looked, but I can assure you I wasn’t staring.” Fletcher looks from Logan to me. “I hope you don’t find that offensive, and that it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intention to do so.”

  I shake my head and look down.

  “She finds it fucking offensive, bitch boy,” Logan hisses.

  “Logan, enough,” I snap at him.

  Again, Fletcher laughs at his inane remark. “Bitch boy? Can’t you come up with something more substantial than that?”

  Logan again starts to stand, and I grip his leg harder, with full intention of inflicting some sort of pain. When his eyes widen, I know I have done just that.

  He does sit back down, though, and leans forward again, fists balled on the table. Now I am truly afraid a fight is going to start between them. Logan is...Logan, and Fletcher is intent on instigating him.

  “I’ve had bigger men than you come after me. Some may have even gotten a few jabs in, but none broke me, Links. So, if you want a fight, I won’t back down, but it certainly won’t be here where I risk a full scholarship based on what’s in here.” He taps the side of his head.

  I grip Logan again when he again attempts to move, and he stills. He grabs my hand like he may pull it off, but I grip harder, knowing I’m not going to stop him unless I get his damn attention.

  I look at Fletcher who is looking down. His head tilts slightly as he looks at me. “We’ve come to be friends, Elle. I’m telling you that you deserve better than that type of boy.”

  I fully expect Logan to lose his shit and either beat him up, tell him he’s not at all interested in me like that, or possibly expose that everything Fletcher thinks he knows about Logan can also be assumed of me. But he says nothing.

  I look at him as he leans back and pulls his hat down over his eyes.

  “It’s not like that with her and I, so back the fuck off,” he snips.

  I look back at Fletcher, who seems to be waiting for an explanation of some sort.

  “We’re just friends,” I tell him.

  “Good, because I’m sure you’re smarter than that.” He points to Logan as he stands and takes his plate, glaring at Logan, then looks at Jamie. “I’m in.”

  “For...?” Jamie asks, clearly having forgotten what it was they planned for tonight.

  “Tonight,” he says then turns and walks away.

  When I start to stand, I feel a grip tighten on my hand and look at Logan, who is smiling smugly at me.

  “What?” I snap at him.

  He looks down, and I follow his eyes to see my hand is very, very...very high on his thigh. I look back at him, and he shrugs.

  “What the hell, Logan?” I ask, pulling my hand away.

  “The words are: thank you, Logan.”

  “For what?” I gasp.

  “For saving you from that.” He nods to the door Fletcher is walking out of.

  I stand. “He’s my friend.”

  “Keep it that way, because that’s not the kind of guy you need.”

  “That’s for me to determine.”

  “You end up with him, and you are gonna get sick of eating him out.”

  Eating him out? “What does that even mean?”

  “He has a fucking vagina!”

  “And you’re a giant tool.” I turn on my heels and walk away.

  Once outside, I try to catch up with Fletcher. “Hey!”

  He looks back, shakes his head, and keeps walking.

  I increase my pace until I’m beside him.

  “I’m sorry about him,” I tell him.

  He stops and looks at me, brows creased. “There’s a world full of hims, Elle. Don’t apologize. But don’t you let someone like that ruin who you are.” He looks away then walks faster.

  “Hey, Fletcher?”

  He looks back at me, and then at his watch.

  “I know you like being alone to recharge from people and stuff, but if you want company, need a friend, I’m here.”

  He forces a small smile. “I’ll see you at lab, and then we’re going to Sound, right?”

  “Promise?”

  He nods. “Of course.” He looks beyond me and rolls his eyes. “See you later.”

  “Sure thing.”

  I see Logan standing outside the doors, arms crossed over his chest, watching us.

  I point to his stupid truck, Black Betty, and yell, “Go!”

  10

  Sound

  London

  Lab was...interesting, and so was the Uber ride to Sound. I’m eternally grateful that the driver was so talkative. Apparently, his child has plans on attending SU, as well, and that’s why he is driving Uber, so he could afford the tuition. He also hopes that he could get some help with scholarships. He, however, thinks it is unlikely because, “The kid’s attitude sucks.”

  How do you even reply to that?

  Once the Chrysler minivan speeds away after dropping us off, we all look at each other and giggle.

  I sigh loudly. “I am so ready to have fun.”

  “Same,” the whole squad but Fletcher responds.

  “Not you?” I ask, nudging him with my elbow before grabbing my ID out of my crossbody purse.

  “If I’m being honest, I’m not a fan of karaoke.”

  “I’ve never done it,” I admit. It’s not a lie. I have sung with a microphone a million times, but always with Dad or Maddox. “I’m gonna watch tonight. See what it’s like.”

  “The hell you are.” Jamie links her arm in mine and drags me inside.

  I look back at Fletcher and mouth, “Help.”

  “Oh no.” He shakes his head. “If I have to, you have to.”

  When we walk in, we are immediately ID’d. It makes me anxious, but we pass through without issue.

  “Put those IDs in your bras or pockets,” Fletcher tells us, and we all give him the same what the hell look. “The cops walk through here. They can look through your bags, but they can’t search your person. I’ve seen it. I’d rather none of you get arrested tonight.”

  “I’d rather we not get arrested either,” I say, shoving mine in my bra immediately.

  He points to a table. “I’m going to go save that table for us.”

  “What do you want to drink?” Lisa asks him.

  “Water or club soda is fine with me.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out some cash and hands her a twenty.

  “I’ve got the water.” She smiles at him before turning to walk away.

  I look at Christy. “Do you mind grabbing me a water, too
? I’ll go keep Fletcher company.”

  “Seriously, water?” She titters.

  “Early morning?” I offer an apologetic excuse.

  I follow Fletcher back to the high-top pub table and watch as he talks to a pretty blonde girl at the table beside us. What is it with freaking blondes? She smiles at him, nods, and he pulls a chair to our table.

  “That’s very thoughtful of you.” I laugh, more at myself for assuming he was putting the moves on the woman. I’m also wondering why it would bother me if he was.

  Logan.

  “Believe it or not, I try to be a gentleman whenever possible,” Fletcher says with an undertone of annoyance.

  “I don’t doubt that at all,” I assure him. “I hope you didn’t think otherwise.”

  He sits and looks down at his wrist, fidgeting with his watch. “I understand the draw to a guy like that.”

  No, you don’t, I want to tell him, but I can’t.

  “But he doesn’t have your best intentions in his heart, Elle. He will use you and throw you away. He’ll leave, and you will never see him again.”

  Yes, he does. He hasn’t even tried to touch me. And yes, I will. I see him more often than not.

  I say nothing.

  “You can do better than a spoiled rich kid who probably doesn’t need to get an education because he’ll have daddy’s money to play with for the rest of his life.”

  Money doesn’t matter. We all want to make it on our own. I hate that people assume that of people like me, like Logan. It’s just not true. Yet, I keep it to myself.

  “I see how comfortable you are with him. Your hand...” He pauses and shakes his head from side to side. Now I know he saw my hand was indecently high on Logan’s inner thigh. It’s embarrassing. “And what you may think of as protective isn’t. It’s possessive, Elle. He wants to own you. And when he no longer wants you, your heart will be discarded as easily as yesterday’s garbage.”

  “I like Logan,” I begin, and he sighs and shakes his head. “Let me rephrase that. I like Logan when he’s not being a total douche.”

  He looks at me, narrowing his eyes slightly.

  “I can assure you I am not his type, and he has never crossed a line with me.”

  His eyebrows rise skeptically.