First Loves: A Collection of Three YA Novels

by Jolene Perry

“Aren’t we on something even smaller to head to Gem Cove?” I ask. I couldn’t come all this way and not see the village where she grew up.

  “We could also boat; it just takes a lot longer.”

  I squeeze her hand again. “I’m good.”

  Sky’s lips press underneath my ear. “Liar.”

  I laugh quietly because what else can I do? Of course I'm lying. I want my feet back on the ground. I’m nervous about breathing wet air instead of the dry Vegas heat. It was a hundred and five degrees the day we left Vegas, and it’s apparently fifty-two and raining in Ketchikan.

  The plane lurches again, but this time it comes with an announcement that we’ll be landing soon. I’m amazed this double-propped barely-an-airplane has an intercom. The pilot could probably just yell to everyone on board and save the expense.

  “I love that you wanted to come,” Sky says.

  I tighten my hand on hers, bring her hand to my mouth, and kiss it. “I love that you wanted me here.”

  Her head rests on my shoulder, and I will my stomach to stop turning over. When the wheels of the plane finally bounce on the runway, I laugh a little in relief. And then remember that I’m about to meet her dad.

  I can’t let go of Jameson’s hand. Sometimes I wonder if he has any idea of how different he is toward me than I’ve ever seen a man be with a woman—at least for long periods of time. He’s always so soft and kind and attentive. His eyes travel the small, worn room in the airport where we pick up our bags.

  There’s no way for me to know how Jay and Dad will get along. I barely know my dad, but of course he wants to meet the guy I love. And we can’t afford a hotel with the way we’re both racking up student loans. I’m not looking forward to going back to Gem Cove, much less staying there, so we’re headed to my dad’s place.

  “Sky!” Dad waves, his old, plaid, logging hat is stained, and his orange raincoat has more smudging than orange.

  I wave back and feel Jameson stiffen next to me. “Don’t worry,” I whisper to Jay. “He already loves you because I love you.”

  “Uh, no,” Jameson says. “He knows I’m the guy sleeping with his daughter. I’m sure he does not love me.”

  I laugh and then Dad’s arms are around me and then around Jay. “Margie got the guestroom all set up for you two. I assumed it was okay to put you in the same room since you moved in together?”

  Dad’s thin face has a kind of awkward smile. I’m sure he’s not really sure what to do with Jay and me here, and that’s fine. This trip is really about me wanting to see Summer, and Jay wanting to see where I grew up.

  “That’s grea—” But Jay stops himself. I nearly snort out a laugh at the look on his face. He’s trying to be agreeable to my dad, but also probably doesn’t want to accentuate the fact that we sleep together.

  “That would be perfect,” I tell Dad.

  “Let’s go then,” Dad says as he hunches his shoulders forward, and we walk out into the rain.

  It’s early afternoon, but the clouds are so low, the light makes it feel like evening. I pause just outside, close my eyes, and tilt my face to the sky. “I’ve missed this.”

  I can feel Jay’s eyes on me so I open mine.

  He’s smiling, but also sort of squinting in the rain.

  “This is real rain,” I tell him. “Not monsoons or little winter sprinkles. Rain.”

  “I can feel it,” he teases. “It’s cold. And it’s soaking through pretty fast.”

  I lean toward him. “Dad has a hot tub. I’ll warm you up later. Promise.”

  “Then take your time.” He squeezes my hand.

  “Sky! Geez!” Dad hollers. “Let’s go!”

  We jog across the parking lot to Dad’s large work truck, and I slide across the bench seat to the middle.

  Dad starts toward town, but now I’m really just trying to soak in this moment. The guy who I sometimes wonder might be my future is sitting next to me in the middle of my past. My heart warms again.

  I know I sort of forced our short break over a year ago, and I’m still glad I did. I’m even gladder we immediately made it back to each other—I just had to make sure. I didn’t want Jay to ever just be with me. I need him to want me the way I want him.

  “Your brother is fishing the Bering Sea. Came up last minute. You won’t see him this trip.”

  Disappointment taps me down in the seat a little, but I’m happy for him to have such good work.

  “You okay?” Jameson says.

  Dad continues to drive, squinting through the rain.

  I point out the window. “My hometown. I’m absorbing the moment.”

  He leans toward me to kiss my cheek, glances as Dad, and changes his mind, resting his gaze out the window. “Everything’s so green.”

  Dad chuckles. “Yep.” But that’s all he says.

  At least Jay will know I come by my quietness honestly. He’s right, though. I never noticed the deep greens when I lived here—at least not the way I do now. Massive trees line the roadway, the forest is thick with foliage, and even the ground is covered in moss.

  We pull up the crunchy, gravel driveway to Dad’s log house, but all I can think about is getting to Summer.

  “Let’s drop bags and go. Is that okay?” I ask Jay.

  His fingers tighten around mine again. “Anything is fine.”

  Dad and Jay exchange a few words where I hear Jay say thank you about fifteen times. I’m just glad Dad didn’t try to pull a weird parental move and put us in different rooms. At my age and with me and Jay living together, that would have been ridiculous.

  I toss my bag just inside the door and Jameson pauses next to me. “Are you sure it’s okay for us to just take off now?”

  “I need to see Summer.”

  His grin is wide. “I can’t wait.”

  And he’s being honest. He really can’t wait to meet this special little person that I brought into the world.

  “We’ll be home for dinner,” I tell Dad. “If you pull out some salmon, I’ll cook.”

  “Okay,” Dad says before walking into the small house.

  Dad’s always been quiet. Always kept to himself. It’s why he lives in this log house outside of town instead of in town.

  Jay tucks me into his side. The rain is more of a sprinkle now, and we only have a mile or so to get to my aunt’s house. Despite the towering two stories, the trees make his place look like a cabin.

  “You nervous?” I ask Jay.

  “Yep.” He chuckles. “But you already knew the answer to that.”

  “I wanna know why you’re nervous, though.” I’m pretty sure I know the answer to this one too, but I still want to hear him.

  “I want to not be a total outsider, even though I know I will be. I want your dad to like me. I don’t want you to think less of me. I want to meet Summer and your aunt and have them like me—”

  “You worry far too much what other people think.”

  “It’s one of my many charms,” he teases.

  I bump him with my hip. “Oh, one of many, huh?”

  He touches his nose to my cheek. “You’d know better than anyone.”

  “Fine then.” I pause to give him a quick kiss. “One of many.”

  “I’m freezing.” He laughs. “This is not summer weather.”

  I laugh with him.

  The road winds through the thick forest and Jameson is really taking it all in. Absorbing. He isn’t just looking. I love this about him, and it’s something he’s worked on. I know it’s because of me. He never used to put much thought into his surroundings. I want to breathe, experience, and soak up everything. Always have.

  “I can see why you love it here. I feel both protected and exposed and also sort of badass for walking through the woods,” he says.

  “We’re on the road, Jay.” I roll my eyes even though I know exactly what he means. The trees pretty much come down to the faded paved road. If we look closely to the left, then we can just see bits of ocean between the massive trunks.<
br />
  Laughter carries through the woods, and I pause wondering if it’s my cousins.

  So many people for Jameson to meet. Poor guy.

  “Sky!” Davis yells. Yep, my cousins. “Wait up!”

  We stop and I turn to see his lanky twelve-year-old body running full speed on a trail through the woods. “We’re all up here!”

  “So, now we’re actually going to go through the woods, huh?” Jay asks. “And I can’t feel scared because kids are playing in there.”

  I squeeze his waist. “You can feel scared, but I wouldn’t let on to them. They’re merciless.”

  “Oh.” He nods once before letting me go to jog up the small hill that lines the road. “Great.”

  I jog up behind him and my not-so-little cousins are perched on fallen logs and next to trees. They look like some wild family of the woods aside from their trendy tennis shoes, and hoodies. “Trail is this way!” Davis swings his arm in a gesture for us to follow and we do.

  There’s a part of me that wants to walk slow and hold Jay’s hand, but this is the way to see my daughter, and it has to be shorter than the twisty road that follows the shoreline.

  The boys run ahead, and Jay breaks into a jog to keep up. I follow.

  “The trees are insane.” He glances up and every direction.

  They’re so tall that we can’t really see the tops on the grey day—massive, covered in moss and pine needles.

  Jay pauses after climbing over another fallen tree. The massive trunk reaches above our waists, but he managed in one easy leap. He squints into the trees and at the forest floor. Instead of waiting for him to notice where the moss is slightly worn, I step around him and start jogging again.

  “Did you run in the woods like this a lot?” he asks.

  I glance behind me briefly. “Every day.”

  He had his concrete jungle of Las Vegas. I had this. It’s the little differences that help us be balanced in a good way.

  “There it is!” I point ahead to the small tan house and break into a full run.

  The lawn stretches just a short ways behind the house and Summer is laughing and jumping on the trampoline. Even without Facebook, I’d have recognized her. Summer is all me at four years old. Every piece of her.

  “Summer!” I wave, out of breath, at the edge of the lawn. “It’s Sky!”

  She giggles, waves thin fingers at me, and bounces more. We’ve sent pictures back and forth and used Facetime. It’s helped me keep the connection I want with her, but that’s not like breathing the same air.

  I want to hold her, and that want is turning into more of a need. I crawl through the small hole of the netting around the trampoline and she laughs even louder as I pull her into my arms and kiss the side of her face while her body wriggles. This is so different from the near baby I left behind.

  “Stop!” she pleads through her laughter so I set her down.

  “Where are you brothers?” I ask. They weren’t that far ahead of us in the woods.

  “Getting a snack.” She points to the house.

  I turn to see Jay watching me with the smile that I always wanna kiss off his face.

  “Hey, Summer.” He waves with a totally different kind of smile.

  “Come get a snack!” She scoots out of the trampoline and dashes for the house.

  I’m stunned. I guess that’s the right word. My heart feels as if it’s tearing. I knew it was the right thing to let my aunt raise her. I knew it was. Without that, I’d have never met Jay and… And I wouldn’t be working on my final semester of college.

  As soon as I slip out of the hole in the netting around the trampoline, Jay tucks me into his side. He knows me. Knows how to read me. And I need him right now.

  “You miss her,” he whispers.

  “Terribly.” I lean into him. “And even more now that I’m here.”

  He kisses the side of my face and we’re immediately given a chorus of “ew’s” and “grosses” as the boys walk back out of the house.

  My cousins and some of their friends give us weird faces and some smiles and a couple waves as they all sprint back toward the trees to disappear for a while.

  My aunt steps onto the back porch. Her skin seems more pale and her cheeks thinner than I remember. Maybe it’s age.

  “Hi, Sky,” she says in her soft voice.

  We share a hug, and she shakes Jay’s hand and waves for us to come into the house.

  “You going to the potlatch tonight?” she asks.

  Jay and me nod. It’s not a traditional potlatch anymore—at least not tonight. Tonight is at the park and more for the tourists, but the drumbeats and stories are still a part of who I am, and I know Jay will want to see.

  “I’m not feeling so great today. Can you do my part?” she asks.

  I can feel my brows scrunch. “I guess, but I haven’t done it in ages.”

  The second I sit on a bar stool at the kitchen counter, and Summer slides onto my lap. I breathe in the strawberry smell of her shampoo and let her nearly black hair rest against my cheek. Having her here feels so…easy. Perfect.

  Jay squeezes my knee and I turn to see him smiling. “I love seeing you two together.”

  “Jameson, would you mind taking Summer back to the trampoline?” my aunt asks.

  He glances between us a few times, but I have no answers to give him with my eyes or otherwise. I don’t know what’s going on.

  “Sure.” He holds out his hand for Summer. “Come show me your trampoline moves?”

  She hops off my lap and shoves through the back door.

  Jay gives me one last look that I can’t read before following her.

  “What’s going on?” I ask slowly.

  My aunt’s face is too even. “I was just diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I have about a thirty percent chance survival rate.”

  My heart drops. “No…”

  She nods. “I feel in my heart that I’ll be okay, but the road won’t be easy. My boys are okay because they can feed themselves and get themselves to school. They might even be a help. But Summer…”

  My heart thumps. Races. Leaps. “You want me to take her?” I ask.

  My aunt shrugs. “I think we should talk about that possibility. I don’t think you and Jay can move here at this point in your life, and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to come back.”

  I shake my head. I have another semester left. He has another couple years, on top of which, he’ll have some internships to do before he can work as a physical therapist. As far as coming back to Alaska… I guess it’s not totally out, but we’re building a life together somewhere else.

  She nods slowly. “That’s what I thought. No matter what happens, it’s going to be hard for Summer. We just need to think of what will be easiest for her.”

  What will Jay think? What do I think? We’re hardly equipped to handle a four-year-old, but maybe we’re more equipped to handle that than a baby… I’m not sure. Of course we’ve talked around being together long-term, but we’ve never addressed specifics. Bringing Summer back home and into our lives is… It’ll change everything.

  I watch my aunt who slowly chews a piece of salmon jerky. “I guess we all need to think on it while I’m here.”

  “I know you don’t want her with Gunnar.”

  I shake my head. I’ve long since forgiven Gunnar for how he raped me. I sometimes wonder if he even realized it was rape. I was too scared to keep telling him no. I don’t need to make room in my heart for anger toward someone who deserves no thought or consideration from me. And he definitely doesn’t deserve the only good thing that came out of those two years.

  “Well, you go over your part in this show, and I’ll see you tonight. All the kids are coming because you’re in town.”

  I stand and hold my aunt. The woman who helped me leave Gem Cove. The first person I told about Gunnar. The woman who made sure Dad stayed in contact with me after my parents split. The woman who took in the best part of me and made Summer one of her o
wn.

  There’s no way for me sort out how I feel about her cancer right now. Now I have to focus on Summer. What’s best for her. And because Jay is such a huge part of my life, I have to sort out what it’ll do to him too.

  When we leave, my heart is so heavy. Jay’s fingers tighten over mine as we leave the backyard and start back to Dad’s on the same small trail.

  “You wanna talk about it?” he asks quietly as we’re once again wrapped up in the trees.

  I shake my head. “Not yet.”

  He stops us and tugs me into his arms. His breath is warm on the side of my face as we stand. “When you are…” he trails off.

  I know. He’ll listen. And he won’t ask or push me to tell him. I love him so much. The sound of the rain begins to slap on the foliage around us before the large drops begin to soak my face.

  His lips find mine, and I kiss him hard. My world just changed, and I need Jay more than I have for a long time. I just have to sort out my head a little before we talk this through.

  The lights go off and the drumbeats start in the blackness of the theater. I forget the Tlingit or Haida name for the building we’re in, but the whole park is filled with trails and totems and meeting houses.

  As the beat continues, it reminds me of the trip I took with Sky to Red Rock and her Indian Alliance group. The lights slowly come up, and I shift on the wooden bench, crammed with people.

  The tourists are easy to pick out among the locals—their raincoats are a little too shiny and their hiking boots and rain boots not scuffed or worn. I definitely look like a tourist in my white tennis shoes and clean jacket.

  The back of the stage is lined with drummers and then dancers in elaborate black and red costumes come from both sides of the stage, moving with the drum beats. They wear headdresses that don’t cover their faces, but represent different animals.

  When the drumming stops suddenly, the audience holds their breath. The silence is one of anticipation. And then Sky swoops in from backstage, nearly all in black and the beats get faster and more frantic. I recognize that she’s playing Raven—the mischievous one—as she once told me.

  Her feet move flawlessly as she jumps and dances to the beats behind her. I know they’re telling a story, and if I could watch someone other than Sky, I’d maybe catch on, but I can’t.