The Firsts Series Box Set

by M. J. Fields

  He starts to walk past me, but I grab his elbow, stopping him. He turns around and glares at me.

  “Answer my question, Logan. Did I tease—”

  “No, fuck no. Now sit and blend, and just...I don’t know, behave!”

  I smile as I watch him walk away, and then I see Mitch out of my peripheral, witnessing all that went down.

  He walks up to me, a beer in each hand. “You want a tip?”

  I roll my eyes. “Just the tip?”

  He laughs as he shakes his head. “You aren’t his type.”

  “Wasn’t trying to be his type.” I remind myself that I don’t know Logan.

  Mitch nods as he sits down and pushes a stool out. “Have a seat.”

  I sit. I might as well. I’m at a bar, underage, and probably the only person who doesn’t have a fake ID.

  “He likes you and that pisses him off.” Mitch chuckles and shakes his head. “Been with him for two years and never seen him look at a girl like you, or act like”—he rubs his hand over his hair and shakes his head—“fucking un-Links-like.”

  “Un-Links-like, huh?” He has no clue how Links-like Logan is actually being.

  “He’s been through a lot. Sister’s fiancée was killed. He dropped out of school to stay with her in the city. Clearly, it fucked him up, changed him, did something because he’s not Links-like.” He looks up, and I follow his eyes to the bar, where Logan is being very Links-like. He’s smiling at a blonde, who is centimeters from having her boobies pressed against him. “But fuck, maybe I’m wrong.”

  I nod and stand. “I’ll be back.”

  As I walk to the bathroom, my friends are walking toward me. Each has a beer held to their body under their arm and two shots in their hands.

  Lisa and Christy hands me one. “Quick, before we get busted serving a minor.”

  “What?” I laugh.

  “Bottoms up,” Jamie says, clinking glasses with mine.

  I do a shot, my first shot, and it burns. It’s disgusting, it tastes like gasoline.

  Jamie hands me her other. Worried I’m going to get caught, I throw it in my mouth and swallow. I have to fight to keep it down.

  When I finally breathe, they all laugh.

  Jamie nods. “Impressive. That was easier than sneaking you a beer. Guess one-dollar tequila shots it is for our Elle.”

  Lisa shakes her head. “I’m not a big drinker.”

  “So why the fake ID?” I ask.

  “Safer to be in a bar than a frat house,” she answers. “My parents’ idea.”

  “And I about died when they suggested the same for me.” Christy giggles. “Your parents were definitely taken by aliens.”

  “I’ve only had a beer, maybe two before, or a glass or two of wine,” I admit.

  Jamie laughs. “Well, we have a couple days before classes start, and I for one am going to enjoy the night with The Missing Links and hottie Pitch.”

  “Mitch,” Christy corrects with a snort.

  “Well, a man in track pants can’t hide that he’s pitching a tent. And Pitch over there”—she points to him—“certainly wasn’t lying about half-chub.”

  “You think he’s into Logan?” Christy gasps.

  “No, sugar, he’s definitely into you.” Jamie answers.

  “No way,” she says, smiling.

  “Way,” Lisa and Jamie say at the same time.

  I hadn’t noticed. Go figure, I think as I look toward the bar where Logan is now leaning over and whispering something to the bartender then kissing her cheek. She isn’t blonde, but her dark skin and beautiful, light brown eyes make her...stunning. She doesn’t look much older than me. Clearly, he knows her.

  I watch as she grabs his bicep. He flexes then winks at her and smiles. Those dimples, those freaking deep, beautiful—I mean, stupid—dimples flash in all their glory, and she laughs.

  What a joke.

  “And you.” Jamie points to me. “You’ve got grade-A, homegrown, corn-fed beef sniffing your ass like a dog in heat.”

  I shake my head, “Not a chance.”

  Tequil-Ya

  London

  After we hit the bathroom, they go grab a couple more drinks, which means I get a couple more shots. That also means I have made a choice I may regret. That thought hits me as I sway a little bit while moving to the table where Mitch and Logan are surrounded by a bunch of blondes.

  “Elphaba no likey,” Christy says loud enough so we can hear her over the crowd then laughs.

  “What?” Jamie asks as she giggles.

  She groans. “I know how Elphaba feels about the Glenda’s of the world.”

  Jamie still looks confused, so I explain, “Wicked.”

  “I get it now,” she says. “Well, y’all, let’s make them remember who they came with!”

  Now I’m the one who doesn’t get it as she drags me across the bar. When we are standing in the middle of about twenty people dancing, I finally get it.

  “I’m not good at this,” I yell to them.

  “Dancing?” Lisa asks as she begins to move to “Feel It Still.” I nod. “Oh, please, you’re a fucking SU theatre student. You have to be able to dance!”

  “Ballet, jazz, tap, and musical theatre dance,” I explain.

  When the song stops, I feel like I may be out of the woods. However, when “What Lovers Do” begins, Jamie grabs my hips from behind,

  “Then dance like you fuck!”

  Admitting I don’t dance in this setting was hard enough. Admitting I haven’t experienced that is impossible.

  “I got you, baby girl.” Jamie grabs my hips and guides me.

  I look back, and she grins. I can’t help laughing. She’s stinking adorable, and I’m buzzing like crazy.

  “Loosen up, Elle. You gonna ride that donkey dong, you better swing those hips wider than that!”

  Now we are all laughing. I don’t even know why.

  “I’m not,” I tell her so she knows my laugh wasn’t an indicator of my stupid attraction to Logan.

  “Not what?” she asks, taking my hand and twirling me to face her.

  “Riding him.”

  “DD?” She wags her eyebrows.

  “Gross.” I giggle as we dance.

  “That’s it, girl. Shake that moneymaker,” Jamie says as she hip-checks me.

  I stumble back and hit some guy.

  “Sorry,” I tell him.

  He smirks. “Fuck, babe, I’m not.”

  “Jones!” A girl shoves him. “Leave the little hos alone!”

  I quickly move to the other side of the girls to avoid any drama and try my best to follow my roomies’ moves, but make them mine. Tequila helps...a lot.

  When Halsey’s song “Bad At Love” begins, I think we are going to leave the dance floor. It’s a slow song, well, sort of. However, we don’t. We dance, we laugh, and we are having a freaking blast.

  When Jones comes up to me, he dances in front of me as he hands beers to each of us.

  “Thanks, Jones,” I say, holding my hand up, the one with the beer in it, and let the music move me.

  He leans in. “Sorry, babe, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “I’m little ho,” I joke. “And these are little hos, too.”

  All of us laugh, including Jones.

  I feel one hand on my elbow and another takes the drink out of my hand.

  “Let’s go, now.”

  I don’t have to look back to see who it is.

  “Links, I bought the ladies a drink,” Jones says, eyebrow cocked slightly.

  “We’re no ladies.” Jamie giggles, and the rest of us do, too.

  “This one is off limits, you hear me?” Logan hisses quietly. He still has his hand on my elbow, and I jerk it away from his grasp.

  When Jones narrows his eyes, I look at the girls to make sure they didn’t hear him say what he just said about...me.

  They didn’t. Mitch is dancing with them.

  I sidestep to get away from them both and hold up my hand in an
L shape, “Later, losers.” However, Logan grabs my hips, stopping me.

  “You, fucking stay,” he snaps, giving me a very angry look that I try to mimic. It makes him irate.

  “What the fuck did you give her!” he yells at Jones.

  Jones steps back. “The fucking beer you jacked out of her hand.”

  “Bullshit, she’s fucked up. You slipped some shit in it!”

  “Who the fuck do you think you are, fifth year?” Jones cackles at him.

  Logan releases me, and then the same hand that was just on my hip half a second ago is now connecting with Jones’s face.

  “Logan, NO!” I yell.

  I’m grabbed from behind and yanked back.

  “Holy hell!” I gasp, stepping back as fists fly.

  Within seconds, there is a pile of guys on the floor, fists flying, in the same spot we were just dancing and having fun. The music stops, and the bouncers begin pulling people out of the mix.

  I see the bartender, the one Logan kissed on the cheek, running toward the pile with a bat in her hand.

  “Oh, no, no, no, no.” I cover my mouth and watch as Logan looks up at her. His eyes nearly bulge out of his head as he points to her belly.

  I look down and see a bump.

  She shakes her head, and then he says something to her, I don’t know what, but her response is easy to read.

  “Leave it alone, Logan.” Then she turns and walks away, and he follows her.

  I look at Jamie, Christy, and Lisa. “I don’t feel so good. We should go.” Then I look at Jones, who is sitting on the floor, covering his nose, blood dripping down his face. My stomach lurches.

  I cover my mouth and run to the door.

  “Grab her!” I hear Logan yell.

  Outside, I head to the corner of the building where all of my first dinner from Sadler is expelled onto the ground.

  Mitch chuckles. “Son of a bitch.”

  I place my hand on the cool brick of the building and throw up again.

  I feel a hand gently rubbing my back, as another pulls my hair away from my face.

  When I’m sure I am done throwing up, I step back.

  “Let’s get you in Black Betty.”

  I look to Mitch, then look around for Logan, but he’s not out here.

  “No, I wanna go now,” I say, wiping my mouth as I walk away from the disgusting puke.

  “We brought you ladies, we’ll take you home,” Mitch says from behind me.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket and hit the Uber app to request a ride. Then I look back at Mitch who is now joined by the girls, “Uber’s on its way. You should feel free to stay and—”

  “No, we’re all in this together.” Christy smiles at me.

  “High School Musical.” Jamie nods and pats my back.

  “Yeah,” I sigh.

  Christy turns to Mitch. “Looks like your boy’s gonna need you.”

  After eating what was left of the pizza Maddox had delivered, I hit the shower. When I’m finished, I walk out of the bathroom in my robe, toweling my hair and feeling a heck of a lot better.

  “I’m going to bed,” I tell the girls.

  “You feeling better?” Lisa asks.

  “I feel like an idiot,” I admit.

  “No way, you’re not allowed. It was a great night. I mean, how many freshmen hang out with two SU football players, go to a bar, get drunk—”

  “And throw up in an alley?” I interrupt Christy.

  She giggles. “It was one hell of a first night as college girls.”

  Lisa grins. “I second that.”

  “I third it,” Jamie says with a smile.

  I look at them. None are being insincere and all three are smiling.

  “Thank you so much for being—”

  “Friend?” Jamie asks.

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  When I walk in my room, I see my phone is lit up with messages from Mom, Lexington, and a number I don’t recognize.

  I immediately call Mom and tell her, well, everything.

  “You got drunk?” she asks in a slow, quiet tone that says she’s upset but glad I’m being honest and wants me to continue to be.

  “It was stupid,” I admit.

  “The other girls’ parents really allowed them to get fake IDs?” she asks in the same tone.

  “Yeah, I guess they felt it was safer than going to frat parties,” I tell her lying down in my not-so-comfy bed and groan.

  “What?” she asks.

  “This bed isn’t home,” I tell her.

  She’s quiet. My phone pings again, probably Lexington.

  “Mom, is Lexi still awake?”

  “She’s in bed, you missed her by an hour,” She sighs.

  “Okay, I’ll call her.”

  After talking to Lexington and answering a million questions, I put my phone back on the charger and close my eyes.

  My phone pings again.

  I sit up and hit the message to the number I don’t recognize that has sent ten texts.

  - Don’t pull that shit again. - LL

  - Seriously respond. WTF, London! - LL

  - Will you ever fucking grow up? - LL

  - I’ll take that as a no. - LL

  - WTF were you thinking, calling yourself a little ho! Do you know how stupid that was? - LL

  - You want me to call Tessa and have her call Emma and tell on you? - LL

  - I wouldn’t fucking do that, because I’m not a kid. - LL

  - I brought you, I should have taken you all back to the dorm. - LL

  - Answer the fucking texts or I’m coming over. - LL

  - On my way. - LL

  Oh shit!

  I text him back quickly.

  - Don’t you dare!

  My phone rings immediately, and I hit decline.

  - Getting out of my truck, KIDDO. - LL

  I immediately hit call, and he answers.

  “You wanna tell me what the fuck you were thinking tonight?” He’s trying to keep his annoyance at bay and failing rather miserably. I won’t do the same.

  “I’m tired. I’m going to bed. Stop—”

  “Do you think I want to text you? Do you think—”

  “Let. It. Go. Jesus, Logan,” I whisper my hiss so my roommates won’t hear me.

  “Let it go?” he snarls then pauses. “Let it go!”

  “Yeah, just leave me alone. I’m pretty sure you have enough going on. Football, the blondes...Although, you seem to have deviated and are gonna have your hands pretty full in a few months with what I am sure will be a beautiful bundle of joy. How about I call Tessa and tell her that, Logan? Tell her now Chance and Hope will have a cousin—”

  “Shut your damn mouth, London. You have no idea what you’re talking about!”

  “Hit a nerve, did I? Tough crap, DD. You have a truck full of freaking rubbers; maybe you should have wrapped it before you tapped the bartender,” I hiss. “Now, instead of trying to lord over me, go take care of baby momma number one. I’m sure they’ll be many more to come.”

  The phone goes dead. I’m glad. I’m glad he hung up. He’s a damn nuisance, and of all places I would choose to attend college, he would have to be here just to make everything more confusing, like he always has!

  I get up, throw my robe on the ground, pull out the tee-shirt T gave me from London, and pull it on.

  I am so pissed I used his children in an argument. I’m so angry he’s not here. And I am so freaking sick of missing him.

  I grab a pair of knee socks out of my drawer and pull them on. My feet are always freezing at night. The socks are red with hearts and musical notes dancing on them.

  Love and music, I tell myself, nothing else matters.

  Especially not stupid boys.

  I hear the girls laugh, and then I hear some guys, too. I know I should be enjoying what is my first night at college, but Logan...well, he screwed it up.

  I rub my feet together and pull the covers up to my chin. I pull one of my pillows out from u
nder my head and cover my face, hoping it drowns out the noise. The sooner I fall asleep, the sooner I can start tomorrow on a much better...note.

  The feel my bed dipping startles me awake. I’m far from a sound sleeper.

  I open my eyes a bit, giving them time to adjust to the light that I am sure is flooding my room, but it’s still dark.

  I wonder if one of the girls sleep walks. Lexington sometimes does. It wouldn’t surprise me, but it wouldn’t make it any less weird either.

  I reach over and hit the touch lamp on my nightstand at the same time I hear, “You awake?”

  I jump up when I hear his voice and open my mouth to yell at him, when he covers it with his hand.

  “Jesus, London,” he whispers.

  I bat his hand away and whisper-hiss back, “What are you doing?”

  He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair. He casts his eyes down and up again, then back down and up again.

  I look down and heat immediately floods not only my face, but my entire body. With one hand, I yank the tee-shirt up so it covers my near fully exposed breasts, trying to ignore the fact that one of my nipples was fully visible. With my other hand, I pull my blanket up to my neck.

  I’m mortified. My mouth opens and shuts at least three times until I see him smirk.

  “I’ve seen more of you at the Cape, the pond, the pool—”

  “Just shut up, Logan.” I cover my ears, trying to shield them from...I don’t know what, but...God, I am so embarrassed.

  When his eyes do that thing again, I know I have revealed myself again.

  I grab the blanket and pull it over my head as I flop back. “Get out.”

  Then, then he dares to say, “I’ve seen tits, London. It’s no big deal.”

  He’s picking on me. The asshat head is picking on me.

  I sit up, the blanket firmly held against my chest. “Not real ones.”

  He bites his lower lip, clearly amused, and then sighs. “I’ve seen real ones. Touched them, too. Actually, I’m pretty sure I remember licking a few in my day—”

  “When, junior high? None, and I mean none, of the girls I have ever seen you with have been one hundred percent natural.”

  He rolls those eyes. “That’s not true.”

  “Is so,” I snap.

  “Is not,” he snaps back.