First Loves: A Collection of Three YA Novels

by Jolene Perry

  “Watch your mouth.” Her voice is stern.

  “Sorry.”

  “I’m sorry. I feel like I should have done more or that…” Her apologetic voice just fuels my anger.

  “Don’t, Mom. I’m pissed at him.” It seems pretty clearly Dad’s fault.

  “I saw the hole in the wall.”

  “Yeah, I’ll fix it.” We’re both still sitting close, but staring at our laps.

  “That’s just not like you.” Now her voice is full of concern.

  “I know. I said I’ll fix it.” With Mom here, I feel pretty stupid about my whole fist through the wall thing.

  “I love you, son.” Her hand reaches out to touch the back of my head.

  “Love you, too.” I lean into her, even though I’m wet. Mom won’t mind.

  “You’re not… Really depressed or anything are you?” I can tell it pains her to even ask.

  I chuckle. “I’m not going to off myself, Mom. Don’t worry.”

  She kisses my wet temple. “You’re on your own for dinner. I’m on lunch break.”

  “It’s three in the afternoon.” I look up at her as she stands up. And this is lunch? How many hours a day is she working?

  “I wanted to see you after school. I’ll be home by eight or nine.”

  “Okay.” But I’m worried. She has to be tired.

  As soon as she disappears into the house, I slide back down into the water and sit on the bottom. There’s too much to think about. The world is quiet down here.

  - - -

  I know I’m the only one home, which means I’m the only here to answer the door, which further means that I need to pull my sorry ass out of bed and get the door. It better either be girl-scout cookies or someone full of good deeds.

  I open the door and my heart stops. It’s Sky. Home days early. Better than both my previous thoughts, unless she has girl-scout cookies. And good deeds could mean anything.

  She’s in snug yoga pants that stop near her knees and a long-sleeve t-shirt. She looks soft. Like something I need to have in my arms.

  She talks before I have a chance to close my mouth to form a coherent sentence.

  “So, do you remember when we went out on that really awesome date?” Her hips slide to the side as her weight shifts. Her eyes and the corners of her mouth are playful. I love her like this.

  Also, does she not notice me staring or is she ignoring the fact?

  “The one we did like six days ago?” I ask.

  “That’s the one.” A corner of her mouth pulls up.

  “Yes. I remember.” I’m still in shock at her being here.

  “That was you, taking care of me.”

  “Okay.” Kind of, only I really did just want to be closer to her, so it was kind of for me, too.

  “Tonight is me taking care of you.”

  I step toward her and raise an eyebrow. I could think of a few ways I’d like to be taken care of.

  “Puh-lease.” She pushes past me into my house, a large bag in her hand. “You’re an emotional wreck. And I know to guys, that doesn’t matter, but it does matter to girls. So. Tonight I’m going to be your friend.” She turns to face me.

  “Sounds depressing,” I tease.

  “Don’t tease.” Her eyes narrow.

  “But I’ll want to kiss you all night, and if we’re friends, I won’t be able to.” I wonder if protesting will get me anywhere.

  “Jameson. Just take it.” She tries to sound bored, tired.

  “Okay.” But I haven’t seen her in days. I want something.

  She stands looking at me. Her eyes widen. “You’re serious. Aren’t you?”

  “Of course I’m serious!” I’ve been thinking about our kiss since she left.

  “Fine, come here. Let’s get the kiss over with.” She rests against the counter and motions with her hand for me to step closer. Her face is flat. She looks almost bored.

  “I’m sorry it’s so torturous for you.” I step closer. She’s so beautiful I feel it in my chest.

  “It’s not.” She shakes her head. Her voice is soft. “Kissing you is like… It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt.” I watch her swallow. Does this mean she’s nervous? Is it possible for Sky to be nervous?

  This makes me pause. I pause long enough to get my head on straight so I don’t devour her in needing our mouths together. I take the bag of out her hands and set it on the kitchen counter. I can hear her breathing change – it’s more shallow and loud. I’m thrilled to have this effect on her.

  I brush my lips against hers and open my mouth slightly before kissing her again. Her arms slide around my neck, bringing us together. Now it’s her who’s pressing herself against me, and her mouth that’s moving more urgently against mine. This is amazing. My body is both tense and warm with relaxation at the same time.

  “You. Are. Dangerous,” she whispers in my ear.

  My mouth tries desperately to pull into a grin. I try desperately to stop it. Because, really, I need to be cooler than that.

  “Come on. Show me to your room.” She picks up her bag from the counter, and I know she’s purposefully keeping her eyes off mine.

  “And pick up where we just left off?” I slide my fingers down her back. Her shirt is as soft as it looks.

  “I’m re-thinking the whole honesty thing,” she teases.

  “So now what?” I sit on my bed and pat the blanket for her to join me.

  “Okay. I called your mom.” She’s still standing.

  “What?”

  “I needed to know what to bring for dinner.”

  “What?” Why is this confusing? I don’t care that she called my mom. It’s just—

  “Fresh Mex. Chicken burrito with black beans. Right?” Her dimples show that she’s trying really hard not to smile, but failing.

  “Wow. Yeah.” Thanks to both Mom and Sky.

  “And every Guy Ritchie film ever made. We can start with his first, or your favorite, or throw them up in the air and see which one lands closest to the TV.” She kneels on the bed with the bag between us.

  “That one.” She can’t be serious, but I can’t wait to see what she does.

  “Okay.” She pulls out two handfuls of movies and tosses them into the air. No hesitation, no pause.

  I duck, but one hits my head. “Ouch!” I probably should have known Sky well enough to see that coming.

  “That one hit the TV.” She leaps off the bed.

  “Okay, guess we start there?”

  “RocknRolla.” She smiles, holding up the cover.

  “Perfect.” I watch every movement. Her smile, the way she easily crouches in front of the TV.

  “Is this okay?” She looks over her shoulder. “I mean, I realize I sort of busted in on you.”

  “I haven’t seen you in almost a week, Sky. This is perfect. You being here.” It hits me again. Sky and me. Us. These touches of uncertainty and vulnerability make me feel better. She seems invincible most of the time.

  “Good.” She slides the movie in.

  “There’s no way I can eat this burrito by myself. Want some?” It’s in a box inside her bag, making my room smell edible.

  “Picnic?” She looks over her shoulder.

  “I’ll be right back.” I run into the kitchen and the crazy part of me wonders if she’ll still be in my room when I get back.

  She is.

  We get through a monster burrito, RocknRolla and Snatch.

  It’s late and I’m seriously considering skipping school tomorrow. She’s on one side of my bed. I’m on the other. We each have a pillow and I’m wondering how I’ll be able to let her go. It’s close to midnight, and we both keep yawning.

  “Are you okay?” I know she’s asking about everything. About Dad leaving.

  How do I even start to answer that question? “I don’t know what to do for Mom. She seems sort of out of it.”

  Sky smiles. “I didn’t ask about your mom.”

  We lay in silence. “I don’t know.” At least it’
s honest.

  “You know I don’t really know my dad.”

  I nod. That seems worse. Or maybe better now that mine’s screwed us over so royally.

  “I always wondered why he didn’t take the time, you know?”

  “He just doesn’t understand what he’s missing.” I smile.

  She grins. “The same applies to you, Jameson. It’s not our fault when our parents do crazy things. They’re just people. We all make mistakes. We all have flaws.”

  “I guess.” But shouldn’t Mom and Dad be a step above? Ahead? Something?

  “I’m sorry, it’s really late. I should go.” But she doesn’t move. At all.

  “I don’t want you to.”

  “Will your mom care?” Her voice is slow, hesitant.

  “No.” I don’t know if she will or not, but right now, I don’t care.

  “I’ll stay for a little longer, but you’re not allowed to touch me.” She points her finger toward me in warning.

  “Why do you get to make the rules?” I scowl. But really I’m teasing and we both know it.

  “Because if you made the rules there would be no rules and we’d both be in too deep before we realize who the other is.” She scoots closer until our noses are almost touching.

  “That makes no sense.”

  “We fit together too well, Jay.” Her breath is warm against my face. What will it feel like when she moves away?

  “That also, makes no sense.” How can you fit together too well?

  “What I mean is that we fit together and when we touch I want to touch more, but everything will be better if we hold off and get to know one another.” She reaches forward and I immediately take her hand.

  “You’ve gotten all philosophical on me.”

  “I just want this to be good.” Her fingers squeeze mine.

  “What to be good?” I want her to say it.

  “Us.”

  Us. The word hits my chest. “Me, too.”

  She moves her face, just slightly. Just enough for me to decide it’s okay to kiss her again.

  This is now officially the best night of my life.

  TWELVE

  Monday – Student Government Meeting. Help Sky with math. Spend some time kissing by the pool. Mom’s nearly unresponsive, promising me there’s nothing I can do.

  Tuesday – Wrestle through the school day. Resist girlish urge to write Sky’s name all over the margins of my notebook paper. Mostly successful. Get annoyed that my friend, Sarah, barely speaks to me anymore. Go for a swim with Sky and beg her to change the rule about no kissing or touching in the pool. No success. Spend some time kissing next to the pool.

  Wednesday – High five Matt over finally asking Kaylee on a date and her accepting. Pick up Sky and meet her Nana and Papa in a very awkward interview in their living room where her Papa doesn’t speak. Spend some time kissing Sky on my bed, while pretending to watch… I don’t remember. Mom still walking around like a zombie and swearing there’s nothing I can do.

  Thursday – Say good morning to Sarah. Get a dirty look from Eric. Listen to Sarah apologize. Not caring if his arm is around her because I don’t notice. Mostly. Go for a short walk with Sky and the pompom pretending to be a dog. Spend time kissing on my floor.

  Friday – Tap my pencil on my notebook all day while waiting for school to be finished. Sky meets me at my house at five. We spend most of the night on the Las Vegas strip, doing very little talking and lots of kissing. Wish we were in my bed.

  Saturday – this is gonna take longer.

  “I’m recovered from last night. What do we have planned?” Sky’s smiling while standing on my front porch.

  “I…don’t know.” How do I tell her that all I want to do is to feel her close to me, her lips on me and to roll around on my bed? I mean, I love talking to her too, it’s just, her body’s all I’ve been able to think about. I love how she feels next to me.

  “Okay.” She walks past me into my house.

  I step up behind her, sliding my arms around her waist and breathing in the vanilla scent of her hair.

  “So, you did have plans?” She turns her head so I can see her profile.

  “I just wanted to stay in with you tonight.” Is that honest enough?

  “What for?” She turns to look at me, crossing her arms.

  Now I’m not sure what to say. Honesty, right? “I’ve been thinking about you all day, all week. Since we met I’ve been thinking about you. I want to feel you close, that’s all.”

  She takes my hand and looks down at the floor. “Us being together isn’t about getting to the next level, Jay. It’s about being together.”

  I’m trying to figure out what the difference is.

  “Why don’t you do your thing tonight, and I’ll do mine and we’ll meet up again in a day or two.” Her voice is calm and relaxed, but her words cut into me.

  Find some breath to speak. “I…”

  “Would you like to walk me home?” She’s still standing, in her fluid way of being still, and looking way too relaxed.

  I’m still at a loss for words. This is her telling me she doesn’t want to see me. “I guess. I…”

  She moves toward the door. “Spit it out, Jay.” But she smiles, so I guess we’re good. I think.

  “Why don’t you want to be around me? Did I do something wrong?” I’m confused as hell.

  “Not…wrong…” She opens the front door and steps through.

  “Then…” What? I take a few long strides to catch up.

  “Just take a day or two and think about the whole going further versus being together thing.” She looks at me briefly over her shoulder and continues walking.

  “Sky, wait.” I feel desperate. I can’t imagine spending my night without her.

  She takes my hand in hers. I guess this means we’re okay, but I’m not feeling okay. I’m feeling like I can’t breathe and like she doesn’t want to be around me. I don’t know what to do. We walk quietly and I try to sort out levels, moving further and being together… Mostly I’m still confused. Now we’re at her house and I haven’t said anything, haven’t done anything.

  “Can I come in?” I ask.

  “Are you feeling brave enough to come in?” She smiles at me, probably remembering the meeting with her Nana and Papa last week.

  “Yep.” I smile back.

  I follow her up the stairs into the living room of the split entry house. It’s quiet. Dark. We’re alone. Alone can be such a beautiful word.

  “Wanna see where I actually live?”

  Her room? “Sure.” A piece of Sky… I smile to myself, feeling like a bit of a nerd for thinking this.

  We head to the basement. The ceilings are low and we pass through a collection of old wood paneling, random furniture, and stacks of boxes that nearly reach the ceiling. I’ve never seen her room. How much time have we spent together and I’ve never seen where she lives. Where she hangs out. I feel bad. Am I taking the time to get to know her the way I should?

  Then it hits me. I’m an idiot. “That’s what you meant.”

  “What?” She stops at a door and turns to face me.

  “Time together, learning about one another, and not the way I think about most. The way that’s, um…actually important.” I feel kinda proud of myself.

  Her smile is wide. “Yeah. Like that.” Her door opens and it’s like another world in here.

  “I painted the walls.” She stops a few steps inside her room.

  The walls are a deep brown, like the forest. Her window is small. The whole wall around the head of her bed is covered with small wooden carvings.

  I recognize the shape, find it, find it, find it… “Totems?”

  “Yeah.” She nods, staring at the wall. “My brother made most of them.”

  “They’re amazing.” I step closer. The detail is incredible. Most are probably between 12 and 24 inches tall and two to four inches wide. There are faces from top to bottom and nearly all have wings. The features are exaggerated
, but I can pick out a few animals among the faces, a bear, a bird. “A raven?” I reach out to touch one painted in black and white.

  “The raven is a mischievous one.” She smirks as she sees where I’m pointing. These are real to her. Important.

  “Is it just decoration? Or more?” I only glance at her briefly. Some are light wood, like driftwood, others are darker wood. Some are painted in bright colors, red, white, black, and some are faded, worn. The collection is sort of staggering. I reach out and trace my finger across the face of one. The wood is smooth, expertly carved.

  “Wings are protectors. A lot of them are for protection, given to me from my clan as parting gifts.” She looks over the wall with me. “But like I said, most are from my brother.”

  “What are you looking for protection from?” I watch her closely now.

  Her gaze leaves the wall, just for a moment. Our eyes catch. “Dreams.”

  “Have trouble with dreams?”

  “A lot.” She nods.

  I sink. My chest, my stomach, my legs. I didn’t know this about her. I should know this about her. “I’m sorry.”

  “It has to do with things that feel out of my control.” She sits down at the top of her bed and pulls a small woven blanket onto her lap.

  “Can I sit?” Suddenly the detail in the wall doesn’t need the attention that the detail in her face does.

  “Of course.” She may be sitting, but it almost looks like she’s curled up in a ball, as small as she can be.

  I sit on the foot of her huge bed and pull my feet up.

  “Your heritage is important to you.”

  “Yes.” Our eyes meet.

  “Why don’t you talk about it?” I ask.

  “Because it keeps coming up and you don’t even know it. It’s like you know me, but don’t know me.” She doesn’t break our gaze but leans back against the wall.

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “We’ll go back to that later.” Something like a smile, only softer, smoother, crosses her lips.

  “Okay.” Now what? “You never told me about your trip home. Why you came back early.”

  “I don’t feel safe there.” Her face turns to shadow. I can’t explain it, but there’s this mask of something I can’t identify.

  Some sort of protective gene or instinct or something kicks in and I’m immediately tense.