Let Me Be the One

by Lily Foster

  “I’m so happy for you, Rene. Tanner is a great guy.”

  Not someone who gets blow jobs from dirty skanks. I had to stop thinking like this.

  As she made her way upstairs she said, dreamy-eyed, “Thanks, Darce. Alright, I will see you in a few hours. I’m going to go dream about Tanner Westerly.”

  My phone buzzed with an incoming text:

  Did u miss me last nite? I missed u.

  I smiled. I was going to have to just get over it because this was reality, not what Liz said. How was I letting this girl get in my head? I wrote back:

  I missed u. Beth makes me drink tekillya when

  u r not around.

  He wrote:

  Hope I didn’t miss u dirty dancing or anything.

  I wasn’t going to tell him what he’d missed. I teased:

  What happens in the village stays in the village.

  A second later:

  I’m coming over to interrogate. Coffee?

  He had read my mind.

  Hell yes. Cream no sugar.

  Tom was a little “under the weather” himself. We both nursed our hangovers with coffee and then he rubbed my feet as we talked. A foot rub? Seriously, I felt like I’d struck gold in the boyfriend department. Tom gave me the game highlights and told me about the party. His friend Marty apparently had gotten totally naked and was walking up to just about every girl at the party attempting to engage them in conversation with a straight face—pretty typical for a rugby party from what I’d heard. I’d never been allowed to go to rugby parties when my brothers played. The big local tournaments were an exception, everyone goes, but even then Luke and Caleb made sure I was out of there before things got wild.

  When Tom asked about my night, I omitted the part about meeting Liz and my pathetic jealousy over Morgan. I stuck to telling him about Rene hooking up with Tanner. Tom thought that was a good match too. After I got out of the shower, Tom and I spent a lazy morning on the couch, watching TV and talking. We were laying on the couch side by side, my head resting in the crook of his arm. Every once in a while he would take a handful of my hair and hold it up to his face or nuzzle against my neck. “Do you know how good you smell? I miss it when you’re not around me.”

  Everything he did, everything he said, made me ache. I shifted to lay my body right on top of his. “Well then, I’ll just have to let you hang around me all the time.”

  I felt so attached to this boy. Nothing—not what that ratty-haired Liz said—nothing could change what I was feeling. He hugged me in a tight bear hug and didn’t let go, kissing my neck and then flipping us over so that he was on top. When he looked down at me he smiled and said, “Sometimes I think I’m one lucky bastard.”

  Finally at noon, I got the call I was waiting for. Luke and Kate were both on the line when they told me their wonderful news. Tom looked worried at first because I had tears rolling down my face. I had to give him a thumbs-up so he knew everything was good. I just couldn’t believe it. I was going to be an aunt in little over three months! Because of Kate’s last miscarriage, which was at the end of the fourth month, they waited a long time to tell everyone this time. I was so happy for them. Tom seemed as excited as I was when I relayed the news. I was going to be an aunt! I could not be happier. This news, being wrapped up in Tom’s arms, everything was perfect.

  Before Tom left, he reminded me to get a good night’s sleep. “Remember, tomorrow’s your big day.”

  In all the excitement I’d forgotten all about my road test. The lessons had been going on twice a week for three weeks now. It was a total ruse on my part; Caleb and Luke took me driving often. I was used to maneuvering around the streets of New York City, dodging speeding bike messengers and reckless cabbies. In comparison, these Boston suburb roads were a cinch. I was holding out on Tom because I liked the lessons; they were like a sweet, flirty game.

  The next day he was waiting for me in the parking lot after my class. Sometimes I felt a searing pain when I looked at him, liked I cared about him so much—wanted this so much—that it hurt. Tom looked like a dream, leaning against his truck with his legs crossed at the ankles and arms crossed across his broad chest. He was wearing his baseball cap backwards with a mischievous grin on his face. “What’s that look for, Tom? You’re not betting against me today, are you?”

  “You can’t read my mind, sugar. You have no idea what I was just thinking. And for the record, I would never bet against my pupil. That would make me a bad teacher and,” he pushed off the truck and came within an inch of me, holding me by my hips and leaning down to whisper in my ear, “I’m a very, very good teacher.”

  I kissed at the skin below his ear and whispered back, “So if I can’t read your mind then tell me, what were you just thinking?”

  “I was thinking that the guy at motor vehicles is going to have a hard time concentrating once he gets a look at you.”

  “Don’t be so sexist. Maybe he’ll be dazzled by my driving.”

  He chuckled. “Maybe.”

  The test was a breeze. It was over within ten minutes and then I was filling out the paperwork for my license. I jumped into Tom’s arms dramatically afterwards and showered him with kisses as I gushed, “You are the best driving instructor on the planet, Tom Farrell!”

  He laughed, “I think I’ve been played. You parallel parked the car better than I could have.”

  I winked. “I’m an excellent parallel parker.”

  He kissed me slow and then purred in my ear, “Really? I thought that was my line.”

  I pulled away, teasing. “I wouldn’t know, I don’t know about your old parallel parking days.”

  As we hopped back into the truck, me in the driver’s seat, he nodded his head and looked at me knowingly. “So you do want to know after all, huh? Sure you can handle it?”

  That playful feeling left me then. “No, Tom, I probably can’t. But you can tell me about just one. Tell me about your first.”

  He took my hand and kissed my palm tenderly. “Come on, let me take you to lunch. This story is pretty entertaining but I don’t think I can tell it on an empty stomach.”

  We sat in a diner not far from campus and Tom ordered enough food to feed five people. My brothers were the same—they could eat mountains of food but it never showed. He ate and ate. “Are you stalling, Tom?”

  “Nope,” he said as he popped another french fry in his mouth. When he caught my doubtful look he asserted, “I’m not! But I’ve only told this story once before so if I tell you it stays in the vault, ok? It’s a little embarrassing.”

  I motioned to cross my heart and couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face.

  “So after Charlie, you know all that, I really wasn’t into the whole high school social scene until the beginning of my junior year. Then it was like all of a sudden a light turned on; I noticed the girls and I noticed that the girls were into me. And I can empathize with your boy, Matt, I kind of felt like I was going to die if I didn’t get me some soon. So there was the making out, groping and all, but I only knew ‘good girls’ like Darcy Donovan,” he smiled as he leaned over and fed me a french fry. “No one was giving it up. So my junior prom is coming up and I decide to ask this girl, Amy Price. You know why I asked her, right?”

  “Easy?”

  He smiled and cringed, “Yeah. She had just broken up with her boyfriend who was a freshman in college,” he raised his eyebrows and nodded knowingly. “Figured she was definitely putting out.”

  “And did she?”

  “Oh yeah, and I got a little more than I bargained for.”

  He was laughing then and didn’t go on until I gently kicked his shin under the table. “Come on, spill it, Tom!”

  “Okay, okay. So after the dance, Dylan is throwing this crazy house party. You’ll meet him soon. He’s great. He’s the guy in school who has the tricked-out house with every bell and whistle—hot tubs, pool table, you name it. And his parents always seem to be out of town at these very opportune times. So h
e’s having this party, everyone’s there. All I want to do, though, is get Amy upstairs.”

  “What a dog.”

  “I know. I’m not proud of myself but hey, I was a horny, nearly seventeen year-old boy.”

  “So?”

  “So she’s willing and able. She was my age but you know those people who just seem light years older and wiser than you? Amy was like that; I was a boy, she was a woman. So basically, I’m doing everything I can to concentrate and not…,” he paused and smiled wide as he looked at me, “shoot my load before things even get started.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh and squeeze his hand for moral support. I could imagine him as a scared, nervous, fumbling kid with this worldly chick. I knew a few girls in high school that sounded like Amy. “So how was it? Everything you dreamed of and more?”

  “Hard to describe. It felt incredible on the one hand, just incredible, but then, a little stressful. Like I said, it was taking an awful lot of mental effort for me to last. I didn’t want Amy laughing at me; I knew I was being compared to a college guy and Amy didn’t know she was my first.” He looked like he was smiling wistfully, fully back in that memory. “So just when I think I have this great rhythm going—yeah, I’m feeling great—Amy goes and…,” he closes his eyes shut tight and shakes his head. “I can’t.”

  I grab his hands again, laughing. “What. Did. She. Do. Tom?”

  He leaned in close to me and whispered, “She pokes her finger right into my ass. I didn’t know what hit me!”

  I was now laughing uncontrollably. “I don’t know why I feel like comforting you and saying, ‘poor baby’. It was probably the best night of your life.”

  “No, I was kind of traumatized. So anyway, as soon as that happened I had no prayer of holding back and once I came, I could barely look at her, let alone freaking talk to her or cuddle. We make our way back downstairs and she starts talking to some other guy. I didn’t even care. I got piss drunk. I don’t even know how she got home.”

  “So were you two an item after that? I’m thinking probably not.”

  “No. I was happy to hit rewind for a little while and go back to girls who wouldn’t go past second or third base.”

  “And what happened to Amy?”

  “She and I actually had a good laugh about the whole thing last summer. But right after? I’ve never been a kiss-and-tell guy but I did tell Dylan. Dylan was way more experienced than me. I told him just to…maybe see if that’s how it was? You know? Like maybe what she did was normal for high school kids and I had missed the memo? Long story short—once Dylan was certain I wasn’t interested in Amy, he got with her. They had a passionate, three-week long romance. She was right up his alley.”

  “Well, thank you for sharing, Tom. I do feel like I know you much better now.”

  “I can’t believe telling that story makes me feel embarrassed even now, so many years later.”

  “They say you never forget your first time.”

  He put his hand over his heart dramatically and said, “I know I’ll never forget my Amy.”

  Tom

  The more time I spent with her the more I needed to be around her. When the guys were going out as a group I went—and I’m not saying I didn’t have fun—but I was surprised to find myself wishing that I was with her instead. Even if it was something I was looking forward to, Darcy wasn’t ever far from my mind.

  The Sox were in the playoffs and Chris’s father, an exec with a big tech corporation, had a private box. About ten of us were able to tag along with him. I knew Nick would be one of the guys going but I decided to overlook that; the seats were great and we were in a VIP section with free beer and food. Basically, Charles Manson could have been coming with us and I still wouldn’t have turned down the invite.

  We all met at Chris’s. I was fairly good friends with Chris, Denny, and Marty but hadn’t been inside their place once so far this year. Nick lived there too so it just didn’t seem right. It wasn’t as awkward as it could have been; there were enough other people there that we didn’t have to interact directly. Also, most of the guys there played rugby with me so in some ways I was more at home than he was.

  It had the potential of being a rough night. Someone started passing shots early but Chris put a stop to that after the second round, reminding us that his father’s colleagues would be there so we “couldn’t act like a bunch of assholes.” We made our way to Fenway on the T. Nick was already fired up. He was laughing too loud, being obnoxious towards some girls on the train; nothing terrible, just stupid. Maybe I was imagining it but I could feel Nick’s nasty vibe directed towards me. It’s almost as if he was doing things that would provoke me into starting with him. Chris was behind me. “You catching this act, Chris?”

  “Yeah. I’ll give him a not-so-gentle reminder. Don’t get involved.”

  “Wasn’t planning on it.”

  Chris waited a few minutes and then when another loud, moronic comment was made I saw him grab Nick by his upper arm and whisper to him. Nick looked like a scolded child and was quiet but brooding for the rest of the ride.

  Chris’s dad went all out for us. The seats were incredible, the food was awesome, and we had waitresses handing us beers before you could finish the one in your hand. Mr. Dolan’s business associates ranged in age from late twenties to fifties and they were all fun to party with. At one point I saw Chris pull Nick aside again after he grabbed one of the beer girls too aggressively and then Chris went to go smooth things over with her. Although Nick didn’t make a total spectacle of himself, the boy was a nuisance.

  Everyone was going wild towards the end of the game and then the Sox won it with a walk-off in the ninth. The night had been great so far but as we were leaving I sensed it was going to turn ugly. I should have just gone straight back to campus to see Darce but I jumped off with everyone else to have a few beers at the place where Mac was bartending.

  It didn’t take long. Nick was standing off to the side of me, Denny, Dan, and Ben. He was talking to Marty and was getting progressively louder. I heard Marty say at one point, “I’d shut my mouth if I were you,” to which Nick replied, loudly, “Oh so he can fuck my girlfriend and I can’t say shit about it? He’s a disloyal fucking friend.”

  I took a deep breath and looked at Dan. “Here we go.”

  Dan shook his head and motioned for the door but I no longer felt like pacifying this baby. And if truth be told, the things he had said about Darcy were eating me up and I felt a strong need to call him on it. “Nick, when someone breaks up with you more than a year and a half ago, I don’t think you can still refer to that person as your girlfriend. Just sayin’.”

  “And you can call her your girlfriend? I’d never thought of her as a dumb bitch but she has to be if she’d let you fuck her. What does that make, Tom? I don’t know…thirty girls in one year, fifty?”

  “Shut your fucking mouth.”

  Chris came over then and stood between us. He looked to me as if to say, “Really?” and then looked to Nick and said, “Nick, leave it alone.”

  He shrugged. “No problem. I’ve had her—many times—and now I’m done with her.”

  I barked out a laugh. “Yeah, right Nick,” and then I felt rage course through me as I shoved Chris aside and jabbed my finger into Nick’s chest. That alone knocked him backwards. “Just so you know, if I ever hear you talking shit about her again, saying shit that’s clearly false, I’ll fuck you up. You got that, Nick?”

  Dan and Denny pulled me back then and we left, leaving Chris and Mac to deal with Nick. I texted Chris to thank him for the night and apologize for my part in what had just happened but I didn’t regret it. I wanted—no needed—to defend Darcy and needed every guy standing there to know that he was a dishonest piece of shit.

  I awoke the next morning to a crack-of-dawn text from her:

  Thanks for defending my honor.

  She answered on the first ring. “Hello, handsome.”

  “Hey, about last night, I c
ouldn’t help myself, Darce, he was being a jerk.”

  “It’s ok, really. I just think with him…I don’t know…it’s like you’re kicking the hornet’s nest. It just gets him more riled up.”

  “Just let me handle him, Darcy. He’s nothing for you to worry about, ok?”

  And he wouldn’t be anything for her to worry about because if he so much as looked at her funny I knew I would lose it on him.

  Chapter Five

  Darcy

  Tom and I were starting to fall into a routine. We usually ate lunch with the group. We went to the gym together some nights or went running together.

  I was still maintaining my grades but I did have to force myself to snap out of it sometimes, as I would find my mind drifting to thoughts of him when I was sitting in lecture halls or trying to write papers. Occasionally we went to the library together but I did have to study alone most nights because I had a hard time concentrating when he was right beside me. He was just too damn good looking. He had the all-American boy look with some surfer dude mixed in—a hot combination. He looked like a god. And when Tom looked at me, his eyes told me he wanted me. I wanted to jump his bones every time he gave me that look. Like I said, I was better off studying alone.

  The downside of his good looks was that many other women found him attractive. Girls would always approach him and flirt. Although I knew he was with me, he was often the life of the party and I had to keep myself in check to prevent the feelings of jealousy that crept in when he so much as spoke to another girl. And there were the times when reminders of his past assaulted me. Like one Saturday afternoon when Caitlyn, Jenna, and Beth were at a game with me and next to us on the sidelines was another group of girls. From their conversation it was obvious that two of them were intimately acquainted with Tom, right down to descriptions of his impressive manhood. I wanted to scream, beat his chest, and run away but instead I calmly reminded myself, repeatedly, that what I was listening to was in his past. Had nothing to do with us, right? After the game, Tom walked straight to me and lifted me off my feet into a tight hug. “Sorry, I’m all sweaty. I’m glad you’re here,” he breathed into my ear.