First Loves: A Collection of Three YA Novels

by Jolene Perry

“Think on that.”

  “Yeah, I will.” Do I love Sky enough to forgive her? I guess at this point, we have to forgive each other. Both of us have ground to make up, but we’re not even talking. How can we make up ground if we’re not even talking?

  - - -

  I don’t know if she’ll get my letter or not but I log in to my email to ask Sky to explain. I want to hear her. I want to know why she kept things from me. My chest swells when I already have one from her.

  Jameson –

  You know how when there’s something so huge you need to say that you’re not sure how to say it? It’s why I didn’t tell you about her. My insistence on honesty actually bit me back.

  I’m sorry things got so mixed up between us, but I wanted to thank you for helping me through the hardest part of my life. Being separated from my family, living in a strange place with family I didn’t know, and helping me to focus on me, instead of things that were out of my control.

  Thank you, Jay.

  Sky

  I love her letter and hate it all at the same time. It feels like a goodbye. It feels like my thought that maybe Sky and I were thrown together to help one another, and that’s it. That we’re going to be a memory. The thought of Sky as nothing more than someone I remember is crushing. But I don’t know how to reach her.

  I send an email back. I don’t know what to say. Hopefully I’ll think of something before she calls. If she calls.

  Sky,

  Sarah resolved. Just friends and I feel good about that. No, better than good about it. It feels like I’m finally free from something that’s held me back for too long.

  I want to talk. Need to talk. Please call.

  Jay

  - - -

  “Jay!” Matt yells to me across the school parking lot. “Red Rock to celebrate the last day. You in?”

  “I’m in!” Going home to stare at my computer so I can hit refresh on my email inbox probably isn’t healthy.

  A big group is going, probably half our senior class, maybe more. I ride out by myself, in my own car. Maybe I’m brooding, but I don’t care. Making friendly chit chat isn’t high on my list. Being alone is.

  Sarah and Kaylee giggle and talk about dorm room assignments and their college picks. Sarah’s leaving for London in August. Both Kaylee and Matt are going to Boulder, Colorado. Something they didn’t realize until he asked her out. I haven’t finalized my plans yet. I’m still holding out hope for Sky. Maybe I shouldn’t be.

  Sarah and I might stay friends, and we might not. It’s hard to know right now. I think it’ll take her years to grow up. And that’s okay. She’s in no hurry.

  I hike out to the small ledge where Sky and I stood on our first night out here and sit. I feel more like an adult than I ever did. Even a year ago when I thought I knew everything about everything—except for how to tell a girl I loved her. Now I realize that it’s just as well. My words to Matt hit me. “If you don’t care enough to put yourself out there, you don’t deserve the girl.” I’m amending that now to—if you don’t care enough to put yourself out there, maybe it isn’t something you should have.”

  I think about my first night with Sky. The very first night. I’d never been like that around someone. But even then, part of me knew there was something different about her. About us, the way we could be. Kissing her at the top of the Eiffel tower… It was like my brain and body were at the top of the world all at once. How many times did I put myself out there for her? Countless.

  And she’d done the same. I wish I could go back in time and force her to change things. To tell me sooner. I wish I’d pried her for more information. But would it have made a difference? Or just more occasions for her to lie? I’m not sure. I do know that I’d do just about anything to hear her voice again.

  “Hey, man.” Matt climbs up to where I’m sitting. “You look way too serious up here.”

  “Yeah,” I agree.

  “The bats will be out soon. You coming down?”

  “Are you guys going to tease those poor things again?” I ask.

  “Dude, Jay. Lighten up.” He laughs and starts to our camping spot.

  “Coming.” I walk down behind him.

  The girls are at it when I get near the fire—throwing small rocks. When the bats are out, they’ll chase the small rocks, thinking they’re large insects. It only works sometimes, but if you time it just right, you can get them to fly really close. The girls scream and duck when the tiniest creature flies near them, making me wonder why they bother in the first place.

  There’s an odd tinge to the flame, which means Matt used something he probably shouldn’t have to start it.

  “So, here’s to our last day of school.” He holds his water bottle high.

  “Our last day!” The girls shriek as loud as they can.

  And I should probably feel like this is the beginning of something big, but right now, I’m still just trying to get through.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Today is graduation day. I know it would be kind of a jerk move to not show up and support my friends, but do I really want to be there since they’re not letting me walk? I dive into the pool and start my laps. The cast slows me down, but I can still move.

  Instead of trying to sort through problems, I try to go blank. It seems safer somehow. I don’t swim particularly fast, I just swim. When I can’t keep my brain from turning on—from thinking about Sarah, Sky, Mom, and Dad, I slide out.

  My butt hits something on the concrete. I scoot over and pick up a small totem. Sky.

  My head snaps up and there she is, sitting at the table, watching me. What do I do? What do I want? Why is she here? Is it temporary?

  “Is it okay that I’m here?” There’s nothing but vulnerability on her face. It looks soft, sad.

  “Uh, yeah.” I stand up and pick up my totem. I can’t appreciate it right now, not while Sky’s at my table.

  “I got your message. About Sarah.” She looks down. “I want to show you something, unless you want me to leave.”

  “I don’t want you to leave.” I find my legs and sit next to her at the table. Close, but not too close, not close enough for us to accidentally touch. This isn’t how seeing her again should be. When she left I looked forward to her coming home to throw her arms around me, but now we’re watching one another. Untrusting, unsure.

  “There’s some things I want to tell you, if you still want to listen.” She chews on her bottom lip, something I’ve never seen her do before.

  I realize that there’s a small photo book on the table between us.

  Do I want this? I know I don’t want anything hanging between us. “I want to know everything.” Only I’m still not sure if I do. What if she’s just going to have to leave again?

  “I’m not going back.” She shakes her head. “Not anytime soon.” A slow shaky breath escapes. “My brother finally stood up and said what really happened. He controlled his temper this time and was able to say what he knew without breaking into a fight. It tipped the scales in my favor. I couldn’t stand the thought of my daughter’s dad raising her. It started to look like my only option would be stay there and do it myself. He wanted us to do it together. I couldn’t.” Her head shakes.

  I think I nod, but I’m still in shock. It’s all a lot to take in. The things she’s dealt with are so grown-up.

  Her finger rests on the picture of a baby, a toddler with a round face, huge brown eyes and big smile. “This is her. My aunt’s her mother now.”

  I don’t speak. Sky’s daughter.

  “She’s just over a year old.”

  I watch Sky’s face, and then see pieces of her in the small child in the photograph.

  “Her name’s Summer, because she just is.” A faint smile starts on her lips. “She’s full of warmth and wonderfulness, and I love her more than I thought I could love anything.”

  I open my mouth to talk, but realize when I do it that I still have nothing to say.

  She opens the book. “This is wh
ere I grew up.”

  There’s a smattering of small wood-sided houses, some white, some painted, some natural wood. All small. The trees are like giants in the background and all around. The water looks cold and grey, just like I imagined.

  “My house was outside of the village, Mom didn’t like all the people.” Her smile is wider now, realizing that this small group of homes wouldn’t be considered “populated” by many. “This is the house I grew up in.”

  “It’s so small.” It looks like it has two rooms, maybe three. Total.

  Like less than a cabin, hiding in the massive trees that surround it.

  “When it comes down it, we really don’t need much to live.” Her brown eyes meet mine and there’s even more depth than before. More experience, more love and more sadness.

  “Guess not.”

  She turns the page. “Here’s my mom.” She touches the picture. I can see small parts of Sky in her mom. Her skin is only a shadow of the depth of her mom’s, and her mom’s face is rounder, smoother than Sky’s angles. “And my brother.”

  There would be no mistaking Sky’s brother as anything but Sky’s brother. “His name is Tim, after our dad, but Mom hates that. She calls him Sun, like the sun, not—”

  “I get it.” Sky and Sun.

  “She didn’t use traditional Tlingit language names. She’s practical enough to know that we’d end up shortening or changing those.”

  The more she talks, the more my anger and mistrust fades away. She’s telling me everything. Things that are important. Things I probably should have asked about, and things she should have told me, even if I hadn’t asked.

  It feels like, for the first time, I’m soaking her up. Learning about her. Wanting to learn about her.

  “Your voice is so quiet,” I notice.

  “Everyone speaks more quietly there. There’s less noise. It takes me a while to get out of the habit.” She sounds almost apologetic.

  “Don’t bother. I like it. If I’m not listening well enough to hear you, then I don’t deserve to hear.” I can’t take my eyes off of her.

  “And you still want to? Hear?” She shifts back and forth in her seat, and her eyes don’t meet mine.

  “Everything. I want to hear everything.”

  A breath escapes her lips as she continues. Sky flips through the whole book. I see the boat she takes across the inlet to Gem Cove, and the cannery where she worked as a kid. Her dad who is skinny, tall, and has the same thin mouth as his parents. She shows me his log home, and the rock Sky sat on when we talked on the night that feels like years ago.

  “Thank you.” I rest my arms on the table, and lean forward as she finishes.

  “We’ve both messed up, bad.” Her eyes meet mine again.

  I scoot closer to her on the bench. “Sarah has no idea who she is, and won’t for a long time. I don’t feel a tenth the amount for her as I do for you. For the first time in three years, I don’t want her that way at all.”

  “And for the first time since Gunnar walked into my mother’s house, I want someone to know me. Everything about me.”

  “And you’re back? For real?” I’m amazed I get out the words.

  She nods. “I’m back. Summer’s safe with my aunt and has four older brothers to protect her.” A smile spreads.

  “Thank you.” I hold up my totem.

  “My brother helped me with it.” She looks at the wood carving.

  “You did this?” Knowing Sky’s hands had a part in this changes it somehow. The wood is silvery, driftwood maybe.

  “Do you want to know about it?” Her brown eyes are deep, waiting for my answer.

  “Yeah.” I just want to keep hearing her talk, keep loving her next to me.

  “The raven’s on top, you know—”

  “Mischievous.” I remember.

  A smile breaks onto her face. “Yeah. And then the eagle, not the scavenger, the real one, the Golden. His wings are bigger, a protector. Next is the Orca, not a personality thing, but it seemed like something from the water needed to be represented.”

  I nod. I want to pay attention to the carving, but she’s looking at it in my hands, and it makes it easier to watch her.

  “On the bottom is the bear, big and strong, supporting the weight.” The tips of her fingers touch mine as they slide to the bottom of the figure in my hands.

  “I missed you.” And it feels awkward, but I reach out and touch her shoulder first. My hand slides slowly across her back and she immediately leans into me, without hesitation, without pause.

  “I’m so sorry, Jay. I missed you.” Her arms pull tightly around me, holding us together, and I can feel the dampness of her tears and her face on my skin.

  This moment means so much more than it would have even a few weeks ago. I’m a different person than the one I was before Sky. I’ve seen more, experienced more, and had my heart stepped on more times than I thought possible.

  “Are we okay?” Her hands clutch my back.

  My arms pull her even tighter against me. “We’re okay.”

  “Jameson!” Mom steps into the backyard and then stops. Her eyes go from Sky, leaning into my chest and then back to me. “Are we,” Mom starts. Sky’s presence has thrown her. “Are we going to graduation?” she asks.

  “I, I’m not sure,” I say.

  “Why would you miss your own graduation?” Sky pulls away from me.

  “I can’t walk.”

  An eyebrow raises and I see a corner of her mouth pull up. The familiar tease is around her eyes and I’m thrilled this part of her was never an act.

  “I broke Eric’s nose. He threatened Sarah,” I explain.

  “Which probably prompted the kiss,” she whispers. “And explains the cast.”

  I nod once, hoping Mom didn’t hear.

  “You should go.” She nods.

  She’s right. These have been my friends for a lot of years. “Will you come, too?”

  “If you want me there.” Sky’s eyes turn down, like for some crazy reason I’ll say no.

  “Of course I want you there.” I touch the side of her face with my fingertips. She’s as soft as I remember.

  Her face breaks into a smile.

  We’re actually, really, going to be okay. And the lowest of the low that I felt is worth it for this realization.

  - - -

  Sky, Mom, Dad, and I sit in the stands and holler and cheer for each of my friends as they walk across the stage. My hand’s still in the cast, and there’s bruises on the edge of my face, but Eric’s nose is still swollen and bandaged. I can even see it when he walks. I’m sure there are parties and groups and whatever going on tonight, but I still haven’t decided if I care.

  “I think we’ll walk home,” I say as I stand up with Mom and Dad.

  “Are you sure?” Mom’s brow is wrinkled in worry.

  “Yeah.” I slide my hand into Sky’s. We still have a lot to talk about.

  “It’s good we came.” Dad smiles and gives me a half-punch on the shoulder.

  “Okay,” Mom says. She gives me a quick kiss on the head and Sky a tight hug before taking Dad’s hand and walking out of the theater.

  “Jameson!” Matt yells, waving his arms. “Party’s at my place!”

  I wave to show him I heard. We may or may not join in.

  Sky and I hit the warm night air and begin the slow walk home, or wherever we end up. If I’m with her, I don’t care.

  “Oh, Jay.” Sky’s fingers slide through mine. Her voice is relaxed, smooth.

  “Yeah?”

  “I got something in the mail while I was gone.”

  “What’s that?”

  “My acceptance to USC.”

  My heart leaps. “Are you kidding me?”

  “If you want me there. But I’m perfectly happy seeing you on weekends or—”

  “No.” I shake my head, the smile that hits my face is the first real smile I’ve had in a long, long time. “I want you there.” I pull her to a stop on the sidewalk. T
he cars and honking classmates and everything else dissolves into the background.

  “Are you sure?” Her brows pull together.

  “I’m sure.” My arms wrap around her, and I pull her tightly against me, lifting her feet off the ground. When I set her down the relief on her face makes me realize how sure she must have been that I wouldn’t take her.

  “I love you, Sky.”

  And just like that her lips are on mine and it feels like I’ll never get enough of her. I know in this moment that this is it. This is real. This is us. Because Sky and Jameson do go together—and we’re awesome.

  Jolene Perry

  I still can’t believe we’re doing this. Sky’s hand is clutched in mine as the small plane shifts in the air again. Maybe shift is a stupid word, since my stomach keeps trying to fly out my throat.

  “You okay?” she asks in her quiet voice.

  “’Course,” I lie with a smile.

  “Bullshit,” she whispers as she shakes her head at me.

  She’s done that a lot over the past three years.

  And aside from us both having a – are we really this into each other – moment, where we stepped away from our relationship for a summer, everything has been… It’s been amazing.

  “I’m glad you’re doing this.”

  “I hope I’m still glad in a week,” I tell her.

  Alaska is supposed to be slightly warmer this time of year—June. But Sky warned me that it would still maybe be colder than winter in Las Vegas. The idea that someone else’s summer is colder than my winter is insane.

  The small plane lurches and my stomach once again drops. “Shit.”

  She laughs as she shoves her hand against my mouth. “There’s a kid behind us.”

  I nod.

  And then my heart starts running again. I’m going to meet Sky’s daughter. Her family. Finally. We’ve been together three years, we’ve moved a couple times between California and Las Vegas, but we’ve never made it to Alaska.

  “Only a few more minutes,” Sky promises. “Next time we’ll make sure our tickets put us on the big jet into Ketchikan instead of this plane.”