First Loves: A Collection of Three YA Novels

by Jolene Perry

  “Yeah.” That’s both the weird part and the part that makes it all feel okay.

  “She’s going to be so awesome!” Mindy bounces beside me.

  “Well, make sure you don’t neglect Shawn with all this excitement. It’s going to be really weird for him to know you’re kissing his best friend.” Mom’s brows go up.

  I swear Dad lets out a sigh as the fridge door closes.

  “Yeah.” I rock back on my heels. And Shawn and I haven’t talked about that part of it yet. “I know.”

  Mindy lets out a grunt of disgust. “It’ll be good for him.” Fortunately Mom doesn’t seem to notice. To Mom, Shawn is golden.

  The thing is—I was looking forward to ‘extra-sweet’ Shawn for a few days because of our afternoon. Now, I have to break the news that I’m the lead in the play.

  “Caramel popcorn tonight?” Mom asks.

  “For dinner?” Dad and I say at the same time.

  “If we eat it with apples or bananas or something healthy, that works, right?” She has this little mischievous smile.

  Mindy’s giggles fill the kitchen.

  “No.” Dad shakes his head, then winks at me. “Not enough food for me.”

  “Me either.” I pull open the fridge door. “Grilled cheese?” I ask.

  “That would be awesome.” Dad kisses the top of my head. “Want help?”

  “I think I can manage. And…” I turn to Mindy. “I already have a helper.”

  “Party-poopers.” Mom frowns.

  Dad puts his arms around her and they wander into the living room. I bring my phone from my dress pocket and set it on the counter. Do I call Shawn? Should he call me? I twist my hand a few times to see how stiff I am. I kind of wish he’d grabbed the same one again.

  I know there’s a way for Shawn and I to work through this, I’m just not sure how. It’s so far outside anything I ever thought we’d deal with together that I don’t really know where to begin.

  “What’s with you?” Mindy asks, eyeing the sudden odd relationship between me and my phone.

  “Nothing.” I pull open the fridge to start dinner. I need to be busy before I let something slip. Mindy knows me too well to hide anything for long—not that I’ve ever tried. I’ve never had to.

  By the sound of her giggles Mindy’s texting Paul. I take the opportunity to pull the sleeve off my wrist as I dig into the back of the fridge for cheese. My bruise isn’t nearly as bad as last time. Him grabbing me like that was way over the line, but I know he had a bad night last night, and some kid was bragging about kissing me, so I could see how that would make someone mad. How mad would I be if things were the other way around?

  Mad enough to make bruises?

  Nope.

  My chest gains a new weight. What does this mean?

  ~ 9 ~

  My stomach turns over as I think about facing Shawn after our day. As I step over each line in the dimly-lit sidewalk, I’m another rung higher in my stress-ladder. How will he react to me being opposite Luke in the play? Will it be no big deal? Will the new bruise on my arm help him to not care?

  I step through the gate into the backyard at the same time as Shawn closes the back door behind him.

  “Luke already called,” he whispers as our eyes catch. The small porch light keeps his face in shadow, so I’m not sure what to expect.

  “How are you?” I ask as I step closer. It’s a sort of generic question because I already know it’ll be awkward. My sleeves are pushed to my elbows so he can see the fresh bruising from today, but the light is dim and even though I know where to look, I can’t find it. I almost feel bad for using bruises this way, but at the same time he was the one who gave them to me, even though he didn’t mean to.

  “I don’t know, Ronnie.” His voice is low and his shoulders are slumped. “I know you want to do this theater stuff, but did it have to be for this play?”

  I can’t answer. Now that I have the lead, walking away would be torture.

  “I know I shouldn’t have overreacted today about Curtis. Luke is sort of dating Aubrey, so this all shouldn’t be a big deal. But I want you to know it feels weird for me, okay?” His warm hands take mine, and despite our argument some of my tension dissolves.

  And I know if I do something big, all will be good, all will be forgiven. Something really big. A nervous tingling starts in the pit of my stomach, but it’s for a whole new reason.

  Could I go all the way? Is this awkwardness between us the thing that puts me over the edge? I’m desperate for us to be close again, for me to be able to be held by him and feel comfort from it. I want Shawn and I to be happy like we’ve been for the past couple weeks, and like we were for months before that.

  “Can I come inside?” The words come out all squeaky. Have I made the decision to go further? Just this simply? My heart pushes against my ribs, faster, faster.

  “Aren’t you tired? You always complain about being tired.” He looks through his thick lashes at me.

  “Some things are more important.” I scoot closer, and my stomach tightens. What am I about to get myself into?

  “Okay.” His smile starts to spread. “I’m gonna go check my parents, see where they are and come back for you, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  His lips meet mine and his kiss is so soft and so sweet that I think, yeah, I might be able to do this. Or at least get a step closer.

  Shawn disappears into the dark house and I pull my cell from my pajama pocket to set the timer for vibrate in 30 minutes. My hands are shaking, not bad, just a little. Just enough that I notice.

  My cell is my safety net. If things start to go too far, I can fall back on that. Or I can ignore it. I mean, I can always back off, that’s okay too. He’ll understand.

  I think.

  Again, the thought of not stopping sends a frantic swarm of butterflies through my stomach.

  “They’re asleep,” he whispers. “We’re clear.”

  I jump at the sound of his quiet voice. I’m really going to have to calm down.

  “Come on.” His smile is soft as he gestures to the open door.

  I take his hand as he leads me through the doorway, and then wrap my arms around his stomach to follow him through the dark house. Once we’re in his room, he locks his door, sending another wave of nerves through me.

  He takes a step back to where I’m standing next to his bed, and slides his arms around my waist. His mouth is on mine, soft again, but his kiss is deep, and its like we both forget how to come up for air.

  The light from the backyard streams through the blinds striping the wall, striping his face, high-lighting our bodies together.

  “I love you, Ronnie,” he whispers between kisses. Kisses to my mouth, to my neck, my collarbone.

  I sit on his bed, and he pulls off his shirt. I’ve seen Shawn with his shirt off loads of times—at the beach, in the backyard, but never like this. Never just to be closer to me. I’m totally high on the nervous energy and rest the flat of my hand on his broad chest. This is Shawn. I love him. What am I so worried about? My hand slides down his stomach until my fingers rest on the top of his pants.

  No way can I take the intensity of his eyes right now, so I give a little tug.

  He’s on top of me in moments. And it’s like I mean to tell him I’m happy I’m here. That I love him, but I can’t. There’s no room for words in what I’m feeling right now—there’s too much want. Too many nerves.

  His hands slide through my hair, down my arms. We continue to kiss, and I don’t break away. I can’t. My body, my mouth, has melted into his.

  His fingers caress my waist and slide up my tank top. I don’t even care. I want it. Him. More touching. My back arches, pressing our stomachs together, all of this feels so new—in the very low places I feel nervous tingling begin, and the excitement of being this close to him courses through my body.

  The heat of his skin drives my hands to touch more, and I pull him towards me, even though his weight’s already there. M
y knees pull up until his body’s resting between my legs. If we weren’t dressed we’d be having sex, or almost having sex. My stomach tightens both in fear and finally, real anticipation.

  He pulls back in the dim light, barely far enough for me to make out his features. “Thank you. You’ve been so weird lately. I miss being with you like this.” His dark eyes see me, through me; the guy who’s known me since I was a tall, skinny kid and loves me still. My legs wrap around his back pulling our hips together, and my phone buzzes underneath us.

  “Shit.” He rolls off and sits on the edge of the bed.

  I scoot over and stand up, pulling out my phone to turn off the alarm. “I gotta go. That was Dad,” I lie. And this time only half of me wants to leave. I’m so in love with Shawn. What am I so worried about?

  “Thank you for this,” he smiles softly. “I hope you’re not in too much trouble. You can blame it on me, okay? Say I called and had to see you.”

  “Thank you.” I step up to where he’s sitting on the bed and stand between his legs. I take his hands and rest them on my bare stomach between the top of my pj pants and the bottom of my tank, knowing he’ll push them further and slide them back under my shirt. Instead of moving his hands up, like I expect, he moves them down between my legs and I forget to breathe.

  It’s scary, but sends a shiver through me, and just before I’m about to tell him to stop he stands up and gives me a long, soft hug. I run my fingers up and down his bare back and kiss the top of his shoulder. I’m way closer to being with him than I thought. I open my mouth to tell him I want to stay, but the words don’t come.

  “You’re my forever, Ronnie. I love you.”

  His words rush through me, leaving me high and floating. And I feel guilty for ever being afraid of him, or for being upset. “I love you, too.”

  Even more than any of our kissing on his bed, our goodnight kiss sucks the breath from me, and I happily give it away.

  ~ ~ ~

  LUKE

  Ronnie’s cut-offs are showing far too much leg for me to concentrate.

  Now I really want to trace her freckles.

  Swiping the paintbrush over one of the set pieces, I stare at her. The way her hair is loosely tacked on top of her head, leaving little curly strands down everywhere…

  She’s laughing, and chatting the way she hasn’t been in school in… Maybe since the beginning of the year. I’m so glad again that she decided to do theater—and not just because I’m going to get more kisses from her. Though, my body’s still vibrating from the last one.

  Ronnie’s mom steps into the theater behind all the seating and pauses, I’m sure looking for her daughter.

  “Hey honey!” Her mom waves as she walks down one of the aisles toward the stage.

  “Hey, Mom!” Ronnie sets her paintbrush on the top of the paint can and starts toward her mom.

  I smooth down my Powder Puff t-shirt and follow her.

  “Hi there, Luke.” Rhonda’s smile is wide. “Or do I call you Romeo?”

  I grin back. “Good to see you, Mrs. Bird. Luke is great.”

  Ronnie folds her arms and leans against one of the theater seats. “What’s up, Mom?”

  “Thought you might be hungry. Your dad wanted to go out to eat tonight.”

  “Okay.” Ronnie glances behind her at the work we still have left to do. The crew does most of the set-building, but there just aren’t enough people for what Blackman envisioned.

  “Where did that come from?” Rhonda points to Ronnie’s arm.

  I stare at the few small, round bruises and every hair on my neck stands up, rushing goose bumps across my skin.

  She jerks her sleeves back down. “Building sets.”

  I stare at her. My heart feels like it’s stuck in my throat. “I don’t remember that.”

  “Maybe it happened on a day you weren’t here.” Ronnie shrugs, but her voice is tight and shaky.

  What the hell is going on? I’ve never missed a day, and I’d certainly remember if Ronnie got hurt.

  Ronnie’s mom laughs. “I guess having her build sets probably isn’t the best idea.”

  Ronnie laughs with her mother, but I just stare. I shove my hands in my pockets. I know the answer. But it doesn’t seem possible. Real.

  “Why don’t you help me clean up, and then you and your mom can take off?” I suggest. I have to talk to her. Have to know. Hope that she has an explanation that makes sense.

  Ronnie’s small hands rest on my arm. “Would you mind doing it for me? I’m starving.”

  My throat swells again. This can’t be real. But now she’s not even willing to walk back toward the stage with me. She’s going to walk out and we won’t have talked, and as we continue to stare at her, I know.

  I know who did this.

  I just cannot understand why.

  RONNIE

  “Sure. I can finish up for you.” Luke’s arms fold, and his brow furrows.

  Crap.

  “Thanks, Luke,” Mom says.

  “No problem.” His eyes still rest on me. “Guess we’ll talk later.” We both know there’s deep meaning in those words that I don’t want to think about.

  “Guess so.” I jog up the stage, grab my pack, walk past Luke, and follow Mom—a seeping dread replacing the panic of a few moments ago.

  “Luke sure has turned into a handsome young man,” she says as we step outside.

  There’s really no point in denying that. “Yep.”

  “Is it weird? Being opposite him in the play like you are?” And now her eyes are on me, questioning.

  At least she doesn't have questions about my arm. Luke definitely will. And what can I tell him?

  “Sometimes,” I admit. There has to be some sort of subject change option in here somewhere. Anywhere.

  “And he and Shawn are still best friends, aren’t they?” she asks.

  I stuff my hands in my jeans’ pockets. She sure is perceptive today. “It’s a little awkward. I’m guessing that’s your next question, but we’re fine. It’s just a play. It won’t last forever.” And especially after last night, Shawn and I seem really, really good. I can lie to Luke because Shawn won’t hurt me again.

  It was a phase. It’s finishing up.

  “Well, you and Shawn should make some extra time for each other while this is going on.” Mom gives me another knowing look.

  “Yeah, we will.” And we did last night—you just don’t know about it.

  My phone buzzes.

  LUKE: Worried about you. What really happened?

  There’s no point in pretending I don’t know what he’s talking about.

  RONNIE: Shawn caught my as I fell into the pool.

  LUKE: I don’t believe you. He was weird the other day. Has been. And if that’s what had happened, you’d have told your mom.

  RONNIE: You’re seeing things that aren’t there

  LUKE: If you’re sure.

  Instead of answering, I stuff my phone back in my pocket and hope he drops it. Shawn and I are good. Luke poking around won’t help anything.

  ~ ~ ~

  I find a sleeveless tunic top because my bruises are almost gone, and now that I got them building sets, I won’t have to come up with anything. I also wear a pair of jeans and just for fun, and because I almost never do, I slide on my favorite platform wedges.

  Shawn and I should be cool. We’ve spent some good ‘us’ time the past couple of nights, even though I haven’t stayed long.

  Shawn’s smile is wide as I step out of the house. He’s on his motorcycle today, which terrifies me, but the school is only a half-mile. I can be terrified for that long.

  “Really?” His brows go up as he looks at my shoes.

  I shrug. “I love them. No one cares but you.” And I’m determined that everything is perfect today because Luke is prying.

  He sits silent and lets out a sigh of impatience as I climb up behind him. “It just makes me feel weird, and you know this, so…”

  I wrap my arms tight
ly around his stomach, hoping to relax him, but he’s stiff all the way to school and doesn’t even try to scare me. Not once.

  It sucks.

  We’re back to distance, all because I had to wear my stupid shoes. I should know better.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Ronnie,” Mr. Blackman waves at me from down the hall and I jog up, feeling light and tall in my shoes when I’m not around Shawn. Then, I’m heavy…for having the nerve to feel so great.

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  “I won’t be in rehearsal today. A former student here, and a theater major at the university, will be going over the scenes with just you and Luke, okay?”

  My chest tightens, making my heart frustrated and my breath shallow. Nerves. I try to swallow them down. “Sounds good.” Or, terrifying, or…

  “Great.” He pats my shoulder and walks away.

  I’m still standing. In one spot. This should be interesting. So far, rehearsals have been more about memorization and blocking. Blackman said we’d work on some of the closeness later. I guess later is now.

  “S’up?” Mindy bumps against me.

  “Sorry.” I shake my head. “Intense rehearsal today.”

  “With Luke?” She wags her brows.

  “Please don’t do that.” I shake my head, my chest weighted down further by her humor. “It’s already weird for Shawn.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Shawn’s hot and can be really sweet, but sometimes I don’t know how you put up with him.”

  And she doesn’t even know the worst part yet. I definitely can’t tell her. My eyes float to the floor. She’s in flip-flops. “Can we trade shoes?” I ask.

  Our eyes catch.

  “That stupid height thing?” Her eyes widen.

  “Yes. Please?” I lean down and am suddenly desperate, fingers shaking as I fumble with the buckles. I’m so stupid. Shawn’s stressed and I had to wear something I know makes him uncomfortable. What kind of girlfriend would do that?

  “It’s just with the play and everything, I think he’s feeling a little left out, and then I had to wear my stupid heels…” the words come out in a rush.

  “Whoa.” She puts a hand on my arm as she kicks off her sandals. “Relax, Ronnie. This is high school. He’s your boyfriend. It’s all supposed to be fun.”