First Loves: A Collection of Three YA Novels

by Jolene Perry

  “I’m fine.” I lean back to sitting.

  “So, did you break up?”

  Break. Broken. It seems so final. “I don’t know what we are right now.” It sucks, but it’s honest.

  Sarah reaches over and does her little scratch on my back she’s always done. Except now, because Eric’s around. “Sorry,” she whispers as our teacher stands to start class.

  Sorry. Yeah, me too.

  - - -

  The stands are packed for the state finals. I’m… I’m not sure how I am. Dad’s in the stands, way off to the side. Mom is right behind the team, like normal. Sarah won’t even look at me. Apparently I’m “just Jameson” and have to be ignored because I don’t have clothes on.

  Once I’m on the stand, ready to jump, my brain is where it should be. My dive in is perfect, I feel it, I know it. I got a good start, and it propels me forward. I don’t think just swim. Nevermind plays in my head over and over. First turn is perfect, my body knows this, knows how to do this. I pull and push harder than I ever have. One more turn to go. I nail it. I’m not thinking, just letting my body work as hard as it knows how.

  I touch the end and pull out of the water in time to know I’m first. I won state. My two goals for swimming this year are met. I broke the record, now I see I’ve broken it again, and I won state. Shouldn’t I feel lighter? Better? I slide onto the side of the pool, but Sarah’s nowhere to be found. Right. Eric wouldn’t want her to congratulate me, not when I’m practically naked.

  Mom’s cheering and I give her a wave as I stand up to grab a towel. I shake a few hands and now have to look to the far side of the stands to see the other half of my family.

  “Great job, Jameson.” Sarah sticks out her hand. She looks both thrilled but uncertain.

  Her hand feels like an insult. Not a congratulation. Surely, after three years, we should be closer than this. And because I seem to want to torture myself, I imagine Sky if she were here. Cheering me on and waving her lean brown arms from next to my mom.

  I slide my baggy shorts over my racing shorts.

  “Nice, job.” Coach slaps me on the back. “Well done, Jameson.”

  “Thanks.” It feels good to see the excitement in his eyes over what I just accomplished.

  “Honey! I’m so proud of you!” Mom wraps her arms around me. I catch Dad in the background.

  “Thanks, Mom.” I jerk my chin up toward Dad. “I’ll be right back.”

  She doesn’t look back. She knows Dad is here. “Okay.” She sits back in her seat to wait for me.

  A few people I don’t know shake my hand as I weave my way through the stands to see Dad.

  “Nice job, Jay.” He reaches out his hand.

  We shake a good hard shake. “Thanks.”

  And now we’re standing, silent, staring at one another. Weird.

  “I guess this is kind of odd, huh?”

  He doesn’t even need to complete that thought. And odd doesn’t begin to describe it. “Yeah,” I agree. What’s funny is that we saw each other on my Prom night, but I was so distracted, I didn’t have time to really think about talking to him. Now it feels weird because he’s my dad and I have nothing to say.

  “Well, I’ll let you get to your mom.” Your mom, there it is again. “It was nice seeing you. Maybe you’ll drop in on me at work again sometime.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.” We stare at one another for another minute and both of us realize the conversation is over. I turn and make my way back through the crowd to Mom. I don’t even really feel like celebrating. Which sucks.

  At the beginning of the year, no, just a couple of months ago, I would have thought this was the most perfect moment ever, and instead it’s just a reminder of how screwed up everything is. I’m angry that I’m not able to enjoy my victory the way I thought I would. Instead I’m afraid to hug Sarah. Afraid to show too much affection to either of my parents in front of the other, and afraid to call Sky. This should have been the pinnacle of my high school career—winning State. But all I can think about is Sky, with a daughter. And she thinks I have unresolved issues.

  Well, I’ll show her. I’ll get my end all taken care of. Then this distance between us won’t be my fault anymore. It will be hers. Because her transgression was way worse than mine. Most people wouldn’t even care that I liked another girl for a while. Sarah’s bright smile catches the corner of my eye. When on earth am I going to talk to her?

  - - -

  I step into school on Monday morning after the meet. We’re in the final two weeks of senior year, and everything but school’s on my mind. I swing into Mr. Carlson’s room, but he’s gone.

  Sarah’s in here alone. Perfect. I’ll get my end taken care of right now.

  “Hey, Jamesy.” She looks up from her homework.

  I sit in the seat in front of her and turn to face her.

  “What’s up?”

  “I need to tell you something.” Best to just say it, right? My nerves are raw from life in general. I still feel like I can’t breathe. Might as well get everything out in the open.

  “Oh-kay.” She sets her pencil down and her large blue eyes look up at me.

  How do I feel about them now? About her? Her sweetness hits me, it’s still there. Or parts of it is, parts of what I felt for her. Is it just memories? More? “I’ve been in love with you for three years and never said anything.”

  She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

  I take a deep breath. “I just felt like you should know.” That’s lame.

  “I—”

  “No, no.” I shake my head. “You don’t feel the same. It’s fine. It’s just that, for me, it’s been kind of hanging out there for a while, and I wanted to clear it up. Being your friend is also good. I guess I want to make sure that we’re still friends.”

  “Yeah.” She looks shocked, stunned. Her face is sort of blank, her eyes are wide and she does a half nod.

  I stand up. “Sorry to dump that on you just before school starts. And, I’m good.” That last line is the biggest lie I’ve told in a long time. My conversation with Sky is ripping out my insides, the frustration from my meet has settled in my brain, and telling Sarah didn’t give me the relief I’d hoped for. Now it’s just out there, and will probably make our friendship more awkward than ever.

  What I need to do is to call Sky and tell her I told Sarah. Maybe she has something she can do to make up for her big thing. The thought is actually still crushing. Even if she’d tried to explain, to make me understand. Should I be so angry? Am I overreacting? It just sucks. It sucks because I shared it all, laid it all out, and Sky, the person I felt closest to, now feels like a stranger.

  How am I going to get through my day?

  I step into third period English, well aware I’ll be next to Sarah. But Sarah never shows. I don’t see her at lunch and when I’m by the pool for our last get-together as a swim team, she isn’t there either.

  Great. No way she just suddenly needed to take off right after we spoke. I know it’s not a coincidence, which also really sucks. Guess I did lose my friend. It hurts, but no part of losing Sarah even comes close to the hole left by Sky. I’m not sure if I take comfort from that or not.

  - - -

  I’m not sure what Dad’s work schedule is, but I take the bus downtown anyway. I thought he could walk with me to get a new phone. There has to be a million cell phone stores within walking distance of the Paris hotel. Seems like almost every hotel is a mall anymore.

  It’s a sad commentary that I feel like Dad and I needed a quest, something to do. That just sitting down with him won’t be enough. It’s weird. Wrong. But the way things are right now. Is accepting better? Or should I fight against the idea that we’re just not the same as we once were? Again, I have no freaking idea.

  Dad’s eyes catch mine and I nod. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe talking to my own dad is suddenly such a big deal. I see him make a quick call, shake hands with some guy taking his place so he can walk w
ith me.

  Dad doesn’t hesitate in pulling me into a hug. I’m not sure what to do with myself.

  “I’m glad you came.” His voice is gruff.

  I’m still not thrilled with the situation. “I needed a new phone and thought you could walk with me or something.”

  He nods and follows as I head outside. I move toward the Aladdin. I think I saw an AT&T store last time I was there, but now I can’t remember.

  “Proud of your swimming, Jay.” His hand rubs my back.

  “Thanks.” I nod.

  “You getting excited about graduation?”

  What a generic conversation. It’s uncomfortable, but I don’t know how to change it, to make it different. “I guess.”

  “What happened to your old phone?”

  Such an innocent question really but it puts me on edge.

  “Did I strike a nerve there?” Dad chuckles. This is a typical Dad response. One that normally would loosen me up so I could tell him everything. But I don’t say anything.

  We’re in front of the Aladdin Hotel. “I thought here?” I open the door.

  Dad steps in front of me to go inside, but he’s quiet now. His face is flat, maybe sad. I’m not sure.

  “How’s your mom?”

  I sigh. “I don’t know, Dad. Okay, I guess.” This is where I kind of want to scream at him. Instead I walk at the most normal pace I can.

  He nods. “I’m not seeing anyone else, Jameson. I just wanted you to know that.”

  “So, that sort of takes away your reason for leaving doesn’t it?” My voice sounds harder and more grown up than I thought it could.

  He lets out another breath, as if deciding what he’s going to say to me next. “I don’t want you to feel like—”

  “Like what?” I stop. “Like you walked out on both of us? Like you found something better and wanted to trade up? How the hell am I supposed to feel?”

  He rubs his forehead with his hand. “I don’t know.”

  “Dad, just… Go back to work. We’re not getting anywhere. My whole life has really gone to shit. I shouldn’t have tried this.”

  “Jameson.” But he doesn’t have words either. “Thanks for coming to see me.” He pulls out some cash and holds it out to me. “For your phone.”

  “I got it.” I turn and walk away.

  Its just money. Why didn’t I take it? Do I still feel like we’re on opposite sides? Like the money’s dirty, just because he doesn’t live with me anymore? I realize as I step into the store that yeah, that’s exactly how it feels. The realization sucks.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  It’s now Tuesday morning and I still haven’t seen Sarah. Matt walks to my locker while I’m dumping my pack before class.

  “What did you and Sarah talk about?” He keeps his voice low and leans against a locker.

  “What? Why?” Did I sound weird just then?

  “It’s not a big deal, but Kaylee said that you two talked and then Sarah went home. She’s home sick again today.” His voice isn’t accusatory, just curious.

  The problem is that I like Matt, but I’m not positive he knows how to keep things to himself. “I have no idea, just school stuff.” I shrug.

  So, I know I should probably call Sarah to make sure she knows there’s no weirdness. But I’m not sure how to start that conversation. Making up with people hasn’t gone great with me so far. Dad and I have nothing but awkwardness, and Sky hasn’t called.

  - - -

  When I step inside from school, Mom’s here. Hours early.

  “What’s up?” I ask as I drop my pack at the edge of the kitchen.

  “I don’t think you need anything else to think about, Jameson.” She smiles and pulls lemonade from the fridge.

  “So, something’s going on, and I’d honestly rather just know about it than wonder what it is.” I lean against the counter and watch her fill a glass. Seriously, what else could go wrong?

  She sighs. “Your father wants to come home.”

  A few weeks ago, I would have been thrilled, but Mom and I are doing okay. I’ve already figured I could stick around here for a year and work a real job to help with stuff. “Oh.” I mean, it’s lame, but I should say something, right?

  “Yeah.” She stuffs the lemonade back in the fridge. “Oh.”

  I want to ask her more, but this is really the kind of thing that she should be talking to her sister about, or a friend. Not her son.

  “How are things with you?” she asks.

  I’m tempted to tell her the whole story, but I keep it to myself. “Just can’t believe high school’s almost over.”

  “It went by way too fast.” Mom smiles.

  “Maybe for you.” I push myself off the counter and head for the pantry.

  “Dad said you two talked.”

  I reach around for crackers and peanut butter.

  “And that it didn’t go well.” Her voice is too smooth, too even. She doesn’t want me to know how she feels about it. What do I do with that information?

  “Not really, no.”

  “Are you trying to stick up for me here?” I hear her weight shift. “Because you don’t have to, Jay.”

  I’ve found my snack, but continue to pretend to rummage so I don’t have to look at her while we talk.

  “Because no matter what your father did, I think it’s important you keep a relationship with him.”

  “Why? So I can end up like him?” It comes out harsher and faster than I mean it to. It’s just that I’ve already felt that way more than once since he left home, and I really don’t need it.

  “No.” Her voice is clipped, impatient. Because we both know that’s not at all what she meant.

  I turn to face Mom.

  “You have an understanding of the people around you that your father doesn’t have. Well, he has it, but it doesn’t come with the feeling and compassion yours does.”

  “You’re making me feel like a girl, Mom.”

  She laughs, and I can breathe again.

  “No. I think your broken phone and the hole in my wall are proof enough of your maleness.” She chuckles.

  “What are you going to do?” Now I’m realizing that Dad coming home might be a possibility and I’m also realizing that I don’t know if I’m ready for it—to trust him again.

  “I have absolutely no idea.” She pushes herself away from the counter. “But right now, I’m going to go lay by the pool and try to think about something else.”

  “Good luck with that.” That method has left me high and dry, and my head spinning.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The seniors get out of school earlier than the underclassmen and most of us are half checked out already – both logistically and mentally. Classes are either tests, or us just hanging out, listening to music and writing in one another’s yearbooks. I’ve mastered a pretty good face since I talked with Sarah a few days ago. I’m maintaining pretty well.

  I hit third period and still no Sarah at school. I’m starting to feel weird. I should probably call her. She shouldn’t be missing some of the last bits of high school, just because she feels awkward around me. Am I that bad? Is it so horrible I felt that way? No matter what, we were friends. We should be able to talk. Were? Are?

  If it feels weird to call her, are we friends?

  Maybe I’ll call after school, on my new phone. The one that hasn’t been used because I haven’t called anyone. Well, and no one’s called me.

  The day passes in a haze. The loss of my dad, the loss of Sky and the loss of Sarah are all gnawing at me. By the end of the school day, I just want home.

  “Jameson, good to see you.” Mr. Carlson’s behind his computer.

  “I finished my final government paper and wanted to get it in.” I weave through the desks to get to his chair.

  “Oh, great.” He takes it from me, and stares. “You look terrible.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sit.” He gestures with my essay.

  I do as asked.

&n
bsp; “What’s going on?”

  “You want a list?” I chuckle. It hurts my chest.

  “Yeah. I want a list.”

  I sit and stare at him for a moment. The room is quiet. The kind of quiet you can only have when there’s a lot hanging in the air.

  “Well, my parents split. I think you know that already.” Why does it still suck so much to say it out loud? Shouldn’t it be just part of my life?

  He nods.

  “That’s still a mess.” I open my mouth to say how Dad and I can’t have a normal conversation. Mom doesn’t know what to think about Dad coming back. And more importantly, I don’t know how I feel about Dad coming back.

  And then the other thing. “Sky… My…”

  “Oh, yes.” He smiles. “The gorgeous one. She came to a meet a while ago, right?”

  Knives through my chest. “That’s her.”

  “What happened?”

  “She grew up in a native town, part of a clan, a native corporation.”

  He nods again.

  “She… uh…” I need to get it out. “She has a daughter she didn’t tell me about.”

  “That’s big.” I’m sure he’s trying to play it cool but he can’t hide his surprise.

  “That’s not all.” How do I even continue this? Can I? Saying it out loud isn’t helping. It’s bringing it all to the surface again, like dragging me over sandpaper.

  He sits back in his chair and continues to watch me.

  “There’s apparently discussion over whether her aunt will be allowed to raise her daughter or if she’ll do it. Her aunt wants to, and I think she wants her aunt to, but we didn’t really finish that conversation.” We both yelled and I broke my phone. “It’s the chief’s son’s kid, but she didn’t get pregnant in the nicest way.” What a lame way to say she was raped. Raped repeatedly and put in this horrible situation, but it seems too awful to face, to be real.

  “I’m guessing that they’ll want her to stay there, maybe get married, keep the girl in the village, is that right?” He’s leaning over his desk now.

  What? “I, I don’t know.” His words hit me over and over. Is that a possibility?

  “I just know that some tribes or clans, and some reservations are closer knit than others and when there’s a child, they often do whatever they can to keep the child in the village, or the town, or the reservation – preserve their heritage.” His voice trails off. Probably reading my reaction. “I mean, when it’s okay with everyone, you know.” He’s backpedaling.