First Time for Everything

by Andrea Speed

  “So,” Jared said as we cleaned up after finishing the collage, “did you do anything special for your birthday last weekend.”

  Wham! I’d managed to forget all about the kiss and the mystery and Blake’s possible involvement. The minute Jared asked, though, my face burned, and I relived every second of that moment in the maze.

  A smile as broad as the moon crossed his face. “Oh-ho! What’s that all about?”

  I sputtered. “It’s nothing.”

  “Nothing doesn’t bring that kind of color to your face. You’re totally blushing.”

  Maybe this was my chance. I could tell Jared about the encounter in the corn maze and see how he reacted. More than ever I was sure it hadn’t been him, but maybe I could get proof. “Okay,” I said, “but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

  He nodded. “Promise.”

  We settled back onto the stools. “On Friday, in the maze, after you guys deserted me—”

  “We didn’t desert you. We just didn’t notice that you’d fallen back.”

  I waved that aside. “Same thing. Anyway, I got completely lost in the dark, and then I lost my phone, so I was just wandering around, blind. Then, out of nowhere, I run into some guy who kisses me. Me! And I didn’t even see who it was.”

  Eyes crinkling and dimples dimpling (who knew that was such a hot combination?), Jared tilted his head. “You don’t know who it was?”

  “No! And it’s driving me crazy. Who does that? Who kisses random dudes in a corn maze at midnight? Was it a prank? Some kind of stupid Halloween trick? Did he even know it was me he kissed? Maybe it was some freak who… who….” I ran out of breath.

  “Some freak who, what, loiters in cornfields to kiss unsuspecting gay guys who take a wrong turn?” Jared finished for me.

  “I don’t know, maybe!” I sighed. “Okay, no, but why? Why kiss me but not let me know who he was? If he wanted to kiss me, couldn’t he have, I don’t know, asked me out or something? It was probably a prank.” I’d been so caught up in the mystery of who, I hadn’t spent much time thinking about the why. Now that I did, it seemed more like some kind of elaborate practical joke.

  “Was it a good kiss?”

  My bones seemed to melt and I slumped on the stool. “Dude, it was amazing.” Even now, the memory of that moment warmed my blood.

  “Then it probably wasn’t a prank.” At my questioning—and please, not desperately pleading—look, Jared continued, “If it was some kind of truth-or-dare thing, he probably would have pecked your lips or shoved his tongue down your throat as quickly as possible to get it over with.”

  “You think? Then why would he…?”

  Dry washing his hands, Jared leaned forward. “Maybe he likes you.”

  “Then why not say something?”

  “Maybe he was nervous.”

  “Not likely. First, I’m not the kind of person who makes other guys nervous. Second, I’m pretty sure I know who it was, and he has no reason to be nervous.”

  Jared shifted on his seat so he faced me more fully. “You think you know? How did you figure it out?”

  “Process of elimination. I made a list of everyone I saw at the corn maze on Friday and whittled it down. I have a couple of names left, actually, but I’m pretty sure.”

  “And if he asked you out, you’d say yes?” Jared picked up a scrap of red construction paper and fiddled with it, folding and unfolding it, rolling it. He looked up, and I realized that while his eyes didn’t fluctuate the way Blake’s did, they were just as compelling. A dark brown, almost black, his eyes met mine with staggering intensity.

  I blinked and looked away. “Sure. I mean, I’ve had a thing for him forever.”

  “Really?” It was a question, but something in Jared’s voice made my stomach tremble. “Would you—”

  “I just wish I knew for sure he was gay,” I blurted out.

  Jared’s body jerked back, his hands falling to his sides. “How can you not know?”

  I swallowed. I had no idea why the conversation suddenly made me so nervous, but my brain and body were definitely freaking out. “Clues.”

  “Clues? What kind of clues?”

  Crap. “I mean, there are no clues. He doesn’t date. I mean, anyone. Not boys, not girls. No one.”

  “What about GSA? I know it’s a gay and straight organization, but, really, the members are pretty much queer across the board.”

  “He’s not a member.”

  Just like that, Jared closed up. I didn’t know how or why, but he just shut down. “I see,” he said. Grabbing his backpack, he stood. “We’d better get going. I’m sure you need to get home.”

  III. The Second Kiss

  BLAKE DIDN’T call me, which was probably a good thing. My mind was such a jumble of thoughts and emotions that my mom commented on my distraction. My homework was a lost cause. I stared at the second scene from Shakespeare’s Two Gentlemen of Verona, trying to figure out what was going on—something I was a horrible failure at during the best of times—for over an hour before I noticed I hadn’t gotten past the first two lines. Ugh!

  Buckling down, I finally worked my way through it. As far as Shakespeare goes, it actually wasn’t completely incomprehensible. Julia and Lucetta debated the merits of Julia’s suitors and who the best choice to fall in love with was. As soon as I understood that, I pushed the book away. Did I really need that? Talk about life imitating art.

  I realized something during my time with Jared. I liked him. Jared. I liked him a lot. Not that he’d think of me that way, but still.

  But I’d been obsessed with Blake for so long. Also, I was convinced he was the one who kissed me. It made sense that he’d find my phone—he worked there, after all—and he knew his way through the maze so he could find me and disappear easily enough. And if he wasn’t out, it might explain why he’d approach me in the dark with no one around. On the other hand, he seemed to have trouble remembering my name.

  I glanced down at my English text. They do not love that do not show their love. That was one bit of Shakespeare I didn’t need help translating. Actions speak louder than words. And mysterious, mind-melting kiss or not, Jared’s actions spoke a lot louder than Blake’s. At least Jared didn’t hide who he was and bury his actions in anonymity. And Jared consistently remembered my name, which was a bonus. But that kiss was tantamount to a yell from the mountaintop. If only I could convince myself that Jared was the mysterious kisser, then everything would be about perfect.

  Tomorrow I would approach Blake and make it clear I wasn’t interested in him in that way. I’d also track down Jared and… what? Ask him out? Man, this romance shit was complicated.

  “HE’S COMING over!” Carter nudged me and nodded toward the entrance of the cafeteria. I looked up from the Salisbury steak on my tray and saw Blake heading my way. For once I didn’t want to sigh at his perfect appearance. Instead, I had to battle back nerves-induced nausea. This morning when I told Carter my plan, it had seemed like a good one. Now with Blake striding across the room, it seemed… less good.

  “Hey, Johnny.” Blake straddled the bench next to me.

  “Joey,” I corrected automatically.

  “Crap, I don’t know why I keep forgetting that.” He shook his shaggy head. “Sorry ’bout that.”

  I shrugged. Now that I had put aside my ridiculous obsession, some of the shine and sparkle I’d always seen on Blake dulled.

  “Anyway, I was going to call you.”

  “Oh yeah.” I cleared my throat. “There’s something I wanted to—” My voice cut off. The back of my neck prickled, and I knew—I knew—someone was watching me. As casually as I could, I peeked over my shoulder, pretending to stretch, and saw Jared at a table with some of the other arty kids. He turned away when he noticed me looking and struck up a conversation with the girl next to him.

  “So I saw you at the corn maze the other night—”

  I stopped him, determined to say what needed to be said. “Yeah, about that. I…
I wanted to thank you. First, thanks for returning my phone.”

  His golden brows lowered in confusion. “Huh?”

  “My phone? I assumed someone found it in the maze and turned it in.”

  He shook his head.

  “You didn’t bring my phone to me on Tuesday?”

  “I don’t know anything about that.”

  If he hadn’t done it, who had? My eyes traveled back to Jared. Jesus, Joey, get a grip.

  “Oh.” It took me a minute to regain my train of thought.

  Carter mumbled something into his mashed potatoes, but I thought it best not to try too hard to figure out what he said. Sometimes Carter’s mouth worked before his brain kicked in. Like the night at the maze, announcing to Margo and Jared that I was turning sixteen but had never been….

  No way. No freakin’ way. It hadn’t occurred to me to wonder how Blake, or whoever the mysterious kisser was, would have known it was my birthday. But Carter had blurted it out. And, since it was beyond unlikely that Megan or Margo would have done anything about it, and I knew Carter hadn’t, that left Jared. He was the only other person there who knew. My heart thumped wildly in my chest, drowning out the sound of the hundreds of kids in the cafeteria, drowning out my own thoughts. Could it have been Jared? I glanced over my shoulder again, but he was gone, his seat empty.

  I forced my attention back to Blake. “So, you said you had something to ask me?”

  “Yeah, the basketball team is looking for a new manager, someone good at keeping track of stats and stuff. I noticed in class that you were always tracking data of some kind. I thought maybe you’d be interested.”

  “Uh… yeah, I could maybe….” From the corner of my eye, I saw Jared dump his tray and then head for the exit. I jumped up. “I’ll get back to you!”

  I had to catch Jared. I raced out of the room, ignoring the stares from students and teachers.

  My shoes squeaked as I rounded the corner just in time to see the bottom edge of Jared’s wool coat swinging into the boys’ restroom. I skidded to a halt at the door. Was I really going to follow him into the john? That was a little creepy, even for me and my stalkerish tendencies. Instead I paced outside the restroom, going through all the things I was going to say. All of which sounded stupid, even in my head.

  My back-and-forth path led me past the swinging door with each pass. So busy planning out my speech, I was unprepared for Jared to open the door and run into me.

  “Sorry!” I burst out, my hands gripping his coat. His arm wrapped around my waist to keep me from falling over. Tingling jolts of electricity coursed through me at the familiar position. Very familiar. It was one thing to suspect it, but now I knew. When I lifted my hand, I revealed a matching, muddy handprint where I’d gripped his coat on Friday night.

  “It was you!”

  He jerked his hands up. “Look, I can—”

  I grabbed the lapels of his coat. “Thank goodness!”

  “—explain. Wait. What?”

  “Why? I’m glad, you have no idea how glad, that it was you. But why? Was it like you said yesterday? I mean, why the secrecy? Or was it sympathy? Pity?” I released my hold on his coat. If it was pity, I’d melt into a puddle of shame and slink away, that’s all there was to it.

  “No, it wasn’t pity.” Jared grabbed my arm and pulled me to an empty classroom. He ushered me to one of the desks and pushed another desk around so he could sit and face me. “I didn’t set out to kiss you like that.”

  All the breath left my body, leaving me deflated and weak. “Oh.” Of all the things he could have said, that hadn’t occurred to me. I really was an idiot. “Well. No big deal.” I started to stand up, but he caught my hand.

  “I didn’t set out to kiss you like that,” he repeated. “But when the opportunity showed itself, I couldn’t resist.”

  I held my breath, afraid to hope. Hoping despite my fear.

  “When you got lost—”

  “I didn’t get lost, you guys left me behind.”

  “—I went back to find you. When you ran into me, well, I couldn’t pass up the chance. Then, of course, I freaked. I mean, what kind of creep randomly kisses some guy out of the blue like that?”

  I laughed to myself. Carter would appreciate the thought.

  “So I ran.”

  “Are you the one who brought me back my phone?”

  He shrugged and nodded.

  “How did you find it?”

  “You mentioned that you’d lost it, so I went back on Saturday when they first opened. I figured there was a chance that it would be okay, as long as it didn’t get snowed on.”

  “But why didn’t you say something?”

  “It’s not easy to put yourself out there, you know.”

  “But… but… you’re you. Guys would stand in line to kiss you.”

  He snorted. “I haven’t seen a line.”

  “Then you need to look closer. Jesus, Jared, I’m pretty sure every gay or bi guy in school has wanted to, and I’d bet there are several girls who would like the chance to find out just how gay you really are.”

  He blushed. This intense artist, the dark rebel of the school, actually blushed.

  “And you kissed me.” Confidence welled up inside of me. He’d kissed me and there were probably dozens of guys he could have chosen to kiss instead. Oh. My. God. “Yesterday you said the person who kissed me probably liked me but was too nervous to ask me out. Is that true?”

  He bit his lip, and I focused on his mouth. He nodded.

  “So, if I were to ask you out, do you think you’d say yes?”

  He nodded again. “But what about Bla—I mean, what about the guy you thought it was, the one you’ve had a thing for forever?”

  I winced. Crap. Carter was right. My obsession with Blake had been obvious. “Silly infatuation with a pair of cool eyes. Once I got to know him better, well, let’s say he couldn’t compete with this artistic guy I know.”

  “Is that right?” His voice was low, rumbly. He leaned forward and stretched his arms across to my desk.

  “Yeah. And when he kissed me, my brain melted and exploded and leaked out my ears.”

  “Gross,” he murmured.

  “That’s what I thought.” I leaned forward, ignoring the way the edge of the desk cut into my abdomen. “It was pretty amazing, though. A twelve on a scale of ten for first kisses.”

  “Yeah? So, you think you’d want to go out with this artistic guy sometime?”

  I licked my lips. “It depends.”

  “On?”

  “How high he can rate on a scale of one to ten for second kisses.”

  He grinned. Our mouths met. And held. And moved together, eradicating every brain cell once again.

  “So?” Jared asked a few minutes later.

  “Yeah, totally destroyed that scale. No scale.”

  “Does that mean you’ll go out with me sometime?”

  “Oh yeah. Definitely.”

  “Good.” Jared smiled and leaned forward for kiss number three. I suddenly understood Carter and Megan. I predicted Jared and I were going to be top contenders for the gold medal in marathon tonsil hockey. Definitely.

  J. LEIGH BAILEY is an office drone by day and romance author by night. She can usually be found with her nose in a book or pressed up against her computer monitor. A book-a-day reading habit sometimes gets in the way of… well, everything… but some habits aren’t worth breaking. She’s been reading romance novels since she was ten years old. The last twenty years or so have not changed her voracious appetite for stories of romance, relationships, and achieving that vitally important Happy Ever After.

  She wrote her first story at seven which was, unbeknownst to her at the time, a charming piece of fanfiction in which Superman battled (and defeated, of course) the nefarious X Luther. (She was quite put out to be told later that the character’s name was supposed to be Lex.) Her second masterpiece should have been a bestseller, but the action-packed tale of rescuing her little brother
from an alligator attack in the marshes of Florida collected dust for years under the bed instead of gaining critical acclaim.

  Now she writes about boys traversing the crazy world of love, relationships, and acceptance. Find out more at www.jleighbailey.net or e-mail her at j.leigh.bailey@gmail.com.

  FIRST DATE

  NICOLE MCCORMICK

  THE MIRROR was laughing at him. He told the mirror off, not that it did him any good since he found himself stripping out of yet another outfit, leaving him standing before the mirror in his briefs once more. He was aware of how foolish he was acting, but that didn’t make it any easier to curb his irrational behavior, not when he was about to go out on his first date. Sure, he had done the group date thing before, but those didn’t really count. Those had also been with girls, and that definitely didn’t count.

  There was a knock at his door. “Are you decent?” his mother asked. Logan looked down at himself and shrugged. He was decent enough. “Come on in,” he told her.

  She entered, took one look at him, and shook her head. Logan was fairly certain she was holding back laughter as well. She rummaged around his drawers and his closet and handed him some clothing. He decided to humor her and try on the outfit. It couldn’t be worse than anything he had already tried. It would just be another disappointment, like all the others. Nothing was going to look right for tonight.

  He pulled the jeans on as his mom started sorting the pile of clothing on the bed. “Sweetheart, he has seen you before. He does know what you look like. He’s not going to care what you wear. No matter what you think about how you look tonight, he’s going to love it. I promise you that.”

  The jeans were a little more snug than he normally wore, and he didn’t think he had the body to fill them out and look good in them. Still, he left them on. “But this is different. This is a date.”