A First Time for Everything

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A First Time for Everything Page 6

by Isabel Morin


  Audrey waits for him to go and sits down heavily on my bed. “What’s going on? Why didn’t you let me know you were leaving?”

  “I’m sorry, I just needed to get away.” I tell her what happened in as few words as possible. By the time I’m done she’s gone pale.

  “I’ll kill that asshole.”

  “Be my guest.”

  I’ve never known Audrey to cry, but she swipes at her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I should have looked out for you better. I knew you were tipsy when I saw you with him.”

  “It’s not your fault. I drank three lemonades, and I didn’t even have dinner. I was counting the snacks I had at the talk.”

  “Oh, Hannah.”

  “I’m going to sleep now,” I say, rolling over.

  In less than a minute I’m dead to the world.

  Chapter Five

  I wake up late the next morning feeling like hell, and it takes less than a minute to remember why. I’m nauseous, which I guess means I’m hungover, and I haven’t eaten since the cheese and crackers yesterday evening.

  I know it’s not my fault that Eric was such a tool, but I would have been able to handle myself a lot better if I’d been sober. Plus, I wouldn’t have puked or told Casey my deepest, darkest secret.

  I groan out loud at the memory. Because unfortunately I was drunk enough to tell him all sorts of things, but not drunk enough to forget it.

  Luckily, my head isn’t killing me, and the light doesn’t hurt my eyes the way it always does in the movies. But my thoughts struggle in the tar pit that is now my brain, pulled under before they reach the light of day.

  Audrey left a packet of mint tea next to the electric tea kettle. Between that, the coffeemaker, and the microwave, I could probably manage to eat all my meals in here and not leave the suite except for classes. The thought is tempting, because the last thing I want is to run into Casey.

  And Casey isn’t even the worst of it. What if other people noticed my meltdown? Or what if Eric told his friends about me? For all I know, there are already humiliating stories circulating about what an awful kisser I am.

  Then another thought freezes my blood. What if Casey tells someone my secret?

  He was really good to me last night, surprisingly so, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t tell a close friend.

  I get the water boiling and use it to make tea and instant oatmeal, trying not to think of all the worst-case scenarios. When I’m a little stronger, I turn on my phone and check to see if there’s anything nasty going around about me. So far, so good. Nothing humiliating chasing me on social media.

  Score one for Hannah Bloom. If I’m really lucky, he got so wasted he doesn’t remember who he groped last night.

  Feeling mostly human again after I shower, I head to the library. But I chicken out and use the stairs on the opposite end of the hall from Casey to cut down on the chance of running into him. Now I just have to worry about running into Eric.

  My work requires all my focus, so for a time I manage not to obsess over things that are out of my control. I’m at my favorite study spot—a carrel next to a window with wavy old glass that looks out on the campus pond. Every so often I pause to watch people throwing Frisbees and soaking up the warm sun on the steps of the campus center.

  Most of the time I like being able to see so much of campus from my little perch, but today it cuts me off from everyone else. I have friends, and it’s not like someone stuck me in a tower to wither away and die, but I’m not a part of things.

  Not even my new face can change that.

  …

  “Don’t you dare believe a word of what that asshole said. He was drunk and mean, that’s all. It has nothing to do with you.”

  Audrey and I are sitting on the couch later that night, cartons of steaming Chinese food open and partially devoured on the ancient coffee table.

  “I know. It was pretty much my worst nightmare, but I’ll live. Mostly I’m skeeved out and mad that I didn’t see it coming.”

  “Said every woman who’s ever been mauled by some shithead.” She looks like she wants to hit someone. Then her expression softens and she looks really sad. “I’m sorry, Hannah. All I wanted was for you to have a good time.”

  “I did. For a little while. Besides, it’s not your job to babysit me. I should have known not to make out with a guy who doesn’t like any female professors.”

  “Do not for one second think that counted as a first kiss. Any more than being punched in the mouth would count.”

  I can’t help smiling at her ferocious mama-bear attitude. “Got it.”

  “Most guys aren’t like that, you know.”

  I think of Casey sticking by me, making sure I was all right. I never would have guessed he had it in him, so how am I supposed to know who the good guys are?

  I take more barbecue spareribs and pork fried rice. “My mom would say Casey’s a mensch. Seems kind of weird to say it about the world’s biggest player.”

  “I ran into him earlier. He asked how you were doing.”

  “Telling him I’ve never kissed anyone is the worst part of all of this.”

  “I think he’s into you.”

  “No way.”

  Audrey just looks at me, her brows raised in that oh really way she has.

  “Even if he was, which he isn’t, last night would have taken care of that. There is no way Casey feels anything but pity for me now.”

  “If you say so. But I think you’re underestimating yourself, and possibly even him.” She sighs and moves food around on her plate. “Then again, he’s off-limits anyway, the way Jen feels about him.”

  “Seriously. She’d probably grill me for hours if she knew he walked me home last night.”

  “I’ve never seen her like this with anyone else. I mean, obviously he’s crazy hot, but he’s good for only one thing, and she already did it.”

  “I don’t know how I’ll ever face him again without dying of embarrassment.”

  “You could pretend you don’t remember anything.”

  “If only that were true.”

  …

  Coward that I am, for the rest of the week I use the set of stairs farthest from Casey’s room and avoid the lounge. I don’t catch even a glimpse of him, but the longer I go the weirder it’s going to be when I do see him, so I go back to my usual routine. Every time I come and go from our suite I wonder if this will be the time I run into him, and my heart speeds up and my breath gets fast and light.

  And I still don’t see him.

  Once when I pass his room, I hear a girl’s laughter, and I can’t help thinking how ridiculous it was for Audrey to imagine he was into me.

  The next Friday I go to a screening of an Avengers movie at the campus center with Ishaan and Derek. I didn’t even plan to go, but I ran into them outside the dorm and they asked me to come along. I get back to my room around eleven and start reading my ethics textbook. I close my eyes for a minute. When I wake up, its seven in the morning and the sun is shining through my curtains.

  Then I realize what woke me up—Jorge’s moaning on the other side of the wall. The moans quiet down and I think I might be able to sleep after all, and then the girl starts whimpering, and soon they’re going at it again, this time with dialogue.

  No way am I going to lie here listening to that. I pull the afghan my grandmother knit off the bed, thinking I’ll sleep on our couch, but when I get to the common room, I find Jen there, sound asleep under one of Audrey’s quilts.

  The hall outside our suite is empty and quiet, cool from the breeze coming through the open windows at either end. It might as well be five in the morning, since no one gets up this early on a Saturday unless it’s exam week.

  I leave the lights off in the TV lounge and close the door until it’s only slightly ajar. I turn on the TV, but I don’t channel-surf. I che
cked the listings for I Love Lucy, and I know what’s on right now. I wrap myself in my blanket and settle in.

  A few times over the next hour doors open and close along the hall and feet shuffle as people make their way to and from the bathroom. No one so much as peeks in, though, so I stop paying attention. I’m in the middle of the third episode of my I Love Lucy marathon, completely absorbed in Lucy’s antics, when the door opens.

  “Hannah? What are you doing?” Casey asks, his voice gravelly with sleep.

  I assume this is rhetorical, since the answer is pretty obvious. He comes farther into the room and the light of the TV reveals his sleepy eyes focused on me. He’s bare-chested, dressed only in a pair of shorts.

  A big, beautiful smile blooms on his face when he sees what I’m watching. “Sweet,” he says, and takes a seat beside me.

  We watch silently until a commercial comes on.

  “I haven’t seen you in a while,” he says.

  “I’ve been busy. Studying and stuff.”

  I tense, waiting for him to say something about last weekend. I can’t quite interpret the look he gives me, but if I had to guess, I’d say he sees right through me. I’m saved by the beginning of the next episode, which is one of my favorites. Ricky, Fred, and Ethel sit around complaining about the weight they’ve gained over the years, and Lucy insists she’s as thin as she was when she got married. To prove how youthful she is, she finds a way to perform with the nightclub dancers.

  I feel Casey shake with laughter beside me, which makes me laugh harder. He turns to look at me as I cut a look to him, and then we’re both grinning at each other.

  Things are a lot funnier when you have someone to share them with, and that’s all there is to it.

  When it’s over Casey stretches and I try not to look at his hard, flat stomach, or the way the muscles in his arms and shoulders shift as he moves.

  “Casey?” I start, and my voice cracks.

  “Yeah?”

  “Um, you haven’t told anybody what I said to you last week, have you? About not kissing anyone.”

  His gaze sharpens on me, his whole body going from slouchy to rigid. “Of course not. What kind of asshole do you think I am?”

  “You could have said something without meaning to be a jerk about it.”

  “No way. That’s your business.” A pause. “But, since you brought it up…I can’t help thinking, if that was your first kiss, that must mean you’ve never messed around at all.”

  Oh, God. “Yes, that’s what it means. Feel free to look at me like I’m a freak now.”

  “Plenty of girls are virgins when they come to college. It’s not like you confessed to being an ax murderer.”

  “Maybe, but I’m twenty-one. I might as well be Amish or like, from one of those fundamentalist groups that believe all touching is dirty.”

  “I’ve been with virgins. It’s not that big a deal.”

  “Really?” I ask, hope rising in my chest.

  “Yeah. One girl even told me I was the first guy she ever kissed.”

  “And it didn’t freak you out?”

  His gaze slides away from mine. “No, why would it?”

  “How old was she?”

  “What does it matter? Listen, I gotta go,” he says, making a move to stand.

  I grab hold of his arm. “You were in high school, weren’t you?”

  “Fine, I was in high school. What difference does it make?”

  “A lot, and you know it. You don’t need to lie to make me feel better. I know there are worse problems in the world. I just don’t happen to like the one I have.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Sex is overrated.”

  “Really?”

  There’s that wicked grin again. “Nah, I’m just trying to make you feel better. Sex makes life worth living. But only when it’s good. So wait for something good.”

  “Thanks for the tip, but I think I’ve got the waiting part down just fine.”

  He has the grace to look a little embarrassed. “I guess so.”

  He stands up to go, and this time I let him.

  “Are you still seeing that girl who came by here?” I ask.

  “Who, Jess? No, she was fun for a while, but then she got too clingy.”

  “Clingy how?”

  He shrugs a shoulder. “She got upset if I didn’t call her every day. She wanted us to be a thing.”

  I can’t help rolling my eyes. “So you only hang out with girls who can take you or leave you?”

  He thinks for a second. “Pretty much.”

  “Don’t you want to be with someone who really likes you?”

  “In theory, sure. But it’s no fun if they like me more than I like them. Then it’s just kind of annoying. Besides, I’m not looking for anything serious now. Been there and done that.”

  “Really? When?”

  “I had a girlfriend freshman year.”

  “Why did you break up?”

  He looks exasperated, but he answers anyway. “She started talking about living together after graduation.”

  I start to say something and stop, pressing my lips together.

  “Just say it.”

  “Things come too easily for you. Girls fall at your feet, so you don’t appreciate it. You’ve never had to work for it or hope that someone was going to notice you.”

  He doesn’t say anything, but I realize how much I’ve revealed. As if he didn’t already know more than he should.

  Mortified, I pick up the TV remote and start changing the channel. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

  He hasn’t moved. In fact, he’s kind of frowning and looks like he wants to say something.

  “See you later.” I turn up the volume and stare at the TV until he gets the hint.

  Chapter Six

  A few nights later I’m standing in line at the snack bar debating whether to get a taco or a quesadilla when someone says my name. I turn around and see Brian, the guy who carried my groceries up the hill.

  He smiles like he’s thrilled to see me. “Hey! How’s it going?”

  “Good. Just making a life-or-death decision about what I’ll have for dinner tonight.”

  “Are you eating down here?”

  “I was planning to eat in my room.”

  His smile fades, and I realize I’m an idiot. He gave me the easiest opening, and I fumbled it.

  “Actually, tacos are way too messy to eat in my room,” I say, recovering. “I think I’ll eat here.”

  The smile comes back.

  We get a table toward the back of the room, where it’s slightly more private. If we’d planned to meet, I would have been crazy nervous and worried about what we’d talk about, but this is perfect. It’s not like I imagined it would be when a guy was finally into me. I’m not nervous or super self-conscious. It’s comfortable and easy, and I forget to worry about what he thinks of me, even though my hair is in braids that make me look like I’m in second grade, and I’m not wearing any makeup.

  He asks me what I’m studying and seems genuinely interested when I tell him I’m majoring in molecular, cellular, and developmental biology.

  “Let me guess. You’re premed.”

  “Yeah. The deadline for med school applications is coming up, so I’m up to my neck in my essay these days.”

  “That’s pretty hard-core. I definitely couldn’t handle that on top of my classes right now. I’ve got my hands full with my senior project.”

  He goes on to tell me about the project, which is based on a research trip to Bangladesh to treat wastewater, and he kind of geeks out on me and goes into a lot of detail. It’s not that I’m uninterested, but he’s a lousy storyteller. He keeps going off on tangents and losing track of what he was saying, and he explains every little detail instead of giving me the big pictur
e.

  Which is why I yawn before I can catch myself.

  He stops mid-sentence. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you to death.”

  “You didn’t! I’m really tired. I was up all night writing a paper,” I lie.

  He looks uncertain, so I give him a big smile and ask him what he’s planning to do after graduation. That keeps us going for a while longer, but the conversation never completely recovers. I’ve ruined the vibe, and I don’t know how to fix it. Acting extra enthusiastic is not cutting it.

  “I guess I’d better go finish my paper,” I finally say, gathering my trash.

  He leaps to his feet. “Right. I’d better get back, too.”

  His dorm is right across the way, so I walk with him to the door that leads onto the quad and hold my breath, waiting to see if he asks for my number.

  “I’ll see you,” he says, giving me a faint smile.

  “Yeah, see you.”

  I watch him go and then head back to my room, defeated. Did I sink the entire enterprise by yawning? Is his ego that fragile, or is he just not that into me? Maybe I misread him, and he was only being friendly.

  I open my med school essay on my computer, but all that I can think about is that yawn. It gets longer and louder each time I remember it, my mouth a huge black gaping void where relationships go to die.

  A knock on the door interrupts my mortifying reverie. If it’s someone asking me to join a card game, I won’t even pretend I don’t want to.

  I open the door to find Casey smiling like he’s just won the lottery. For a second all I can do is stare, my mouth not quite closed. Seeing him at my door is sort of like seeing a rainbow appear where moments ago there was only gray sky. It’s not exactly magical, but it might as well be.

  “You’ll never guess what’s on,” he says.

  “Um…”

  “Vitameatavegamin.”

  “No way.” I follow him down the hall and into the TV room.

  The TV’s already on and sure enough, Lucy is trying to convince Ricky to cast her in a commercial. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it, but this episode is a classic.

 

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