The Firsts Series Box Set

by M. J. Fields

  “Up to fucking what!” he yells, glaring at me, but he doesn’t try to stop me this time.

  “Links!” Mitch yells as we pass him.

  When we get to the beer pong table, one of the two guys stepping back into their jeans asks, “You know the stakes?”

  “You know you’re going to get your asses handed to you?” Jamie smiles and rakes her teeth over her bottom lip.

  “Damn...” One smiles. “I can’t wait to get you naked.”

  “Oh, honey, you’ll be the one with no clothes on.” Jamie picks a ball out of one of the cups, puts it in her mouth, and then sucks it off as she pulls it out.

  “Not fucking cool!” Mitch yells to her.

  “Someone’s getting it tonight, and it sure as hell isn’t you.” She points to him.

  Christy and Lisa laugh, and I notice they have fresh drinks.

  “Oh, boy,” I whisper to Jamie. “I hope you’re good at this.”

  “Counting on beginner’s luck. She smirks. “But certainly glad I came wearing lace under my clothes.”

  “Ladies first,” one of them yells down to us.

  “I’ll start,” I tell Jamie. “I’ve played before.”

  “Thank God.” She laughs. “Give me the rules.”

  “Ten cups set up in a triangle. Our ball has to bounce in the middle and land in their cup. When it does—”

  “I love your optimism.” She gives me a sad smile, one very unlike the fakes she was throwing them.

  “—they have to drink the beer and the cup gets taken away. First team to empty all the cups wins.”

  “And the losers are naked,” she groans.

  I give her a reassuring smile. “We got this. They’ve been at it for a while now.”

  I miss the first one on purpose.

  “Oh hell, I was hoping for some competition,” one yells down.

  “Now your turn,” I tell Jamie.

  Her ball bounces and lands in a cup.

  “Good job!” Mitch cheers, and she rolls her eyes.

  “I was hot and thirsty anyway.” One of them loses his shirt then slams the beer.

  Jamie winks at him. “I’m loving this game already.”

  I glance toward Mitch, whose eyes are narrowed. Then I look at Logan, whose jaw is twitching. I look away because the sight of him is nauseating. The words he spoke to me were repulsive. The hurt behind them is heartbreaking.

  The first one they shoot lands in a cup in front of me.

  “My sweater is restricting me anyway.” I laugh as I shrug it off. Then I pick up my cup and say, “Cheers.”

  One of them whistles. “Look at those tits.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mitch’s hand go out, stopping Logan.

  The next one lands in another cup, so Jamie removes her left shoe.

  “Aw, come on,” one of them groans.

  She picks up her cup and slams it, then pulls the ball out of her mouth seductively.

  “Hell yes, baby, suck that ball.”

  I see Mitch tense up, but he doesn’t move.

  I nail the next one, and so does Jamie.

  “Fist bump and jazz fingers.” Christy and Lisa laugh.

  Our victory is short-lived when they do the same.

  We both lose a shoe.

  Then they lose another shirt and a hat.

  “Oh, we see how it is,” Jamie coos with a seductive smile.

  She and I both miss our next shots, and they do not.

  “Shit, we need to focus,” Jamie whispers as we both lose another piece.

  “Come on, Jamie. You got this!” I hear Mitch yell.

  “Well, he’s optimistic.” She laughs. “And still, he’s not getting any.”

  I laugh until I shoot and miss, so does Jamie. The guys, they don’t miss.

  Jamie and I look at each other.

  “Lose the shirts!” they yell to us.

  “I have on a bodysuit,” she whispers. “I’m losing the pants.”

  And...she does.

  “All right, girl. Time to step it up,” Mitch yells.

  “He’s an idiot,” she hisses.

  Unfortunately, I am not wearing a bodysuit. I’m also wearing a thong, so pants are not an option.

  I grab the hem of my shirt and start pulling it up.

  “No. Fuck that. Not happening,” Logan says, storming toward me.

  “That’s bullshit, Logan,” one of them yells at him. “A game is a game.”

  I step back when he reaches for me and hold my hand out stopping him. “They’re right; a game is a game.”

  “And you’re done fucking playing!”

  “Links, man, you want dibs, you should have said so,” one says, and then they both laugh.

  He turns around and grabs the table, throwing it onto its side. Everyone scatters. Me? I get soaked from head to toe.

  “Logan, what the hell?” I push him. “What the hell?” I reach to push him again, but he grabs my hands. “Let go of me!”

  “You’re a fucking virgin, saving yourself for Prince fucking Charming, and you’re gonna get naked in front of all these fuckers?”

  The silence in the backyard from his unexpected outburst is now full of whispers and giggles.

  “Fucking answer me?” He pulls me toward him and turns me around so I have to face them.

  I see the recognizable smirks of all the people I left behind. The girls who thought I was a spoiled, little rich girl who got every part handed to me. Here they are whispering that I’m playing a game to get him to fall for me, that he only wants to be my friend because he wants to be the one to fuck me first, but he won’t fuck me, because I’m not good enough. Their eyes tell me that I’m no less a joke or a fraud as everyone else thought I was.

  I hear the whispers of all the boys from home who wanted to fuck me because I was untouchable, because I was Brody Hines’ stepdaughter. Here, I’m Logan’s toy, a little tease. Probably played the same game with dozens of others, but Logan would teach me.

  “Just give her the D already, Links.”

  “Fuck her and move on. She ain’t shit.”

  “You could have anyone you wanted and you’re tripping over that?”

  I look at my friends who are covering their mouths, shocked by the fact I never told them I am a virgin. They are probably going to hate me for the lie of omission.

  I try to pull away, but he holds me tighter.

  “You want them fuckers to want you?” he hisses in my ear.

  I throw an elbow back, and he grunts. “Let go of me,” I sneer.

  “Answer my question! You want that?”

  “Yeah, Logan, I want that. I want them all! I want to just fuck—”

  He spins me around and hoists me over his shoulder.

  “I’ll go first.” One of the guys laughs.

  “Get the fuck out! Party’s over!”

  “Put me down now!” I kick as hard as I can and hear him grunt. His knees buckle, and I fully expect him to fall, but he doesn’t.

  “You’ll be sorry you did that,” he growls.

  I put my hands over my eyes, not wanting anyone to see the tears threatening to fall.

  “Fuck yeah, give it to her,” I hear someone say with a laugh.

  “Let go of her now!” I hear Jamie cry. “Let go of me, Mitch!”

  I close my eyes and block out the sounds as he walks through the whispering crowd.

  When I hear a door open, I expect to be set out the front door. When I open my eyes, however, I’m in a small room, almost completely full of a huge bed.

  I look around for my quickest escape. It’s behind him.

  “Take off your shirt, London,” he says through his teeth.

  I reach up and slap him across the face. He just laughs as he rubs the red mark.

  “Get out of my way,” I hiss.

  He grabs my wrist and pulls me behind him. I hear a door opening, and then he pulls me through it and turns on the light.

  “You need a fucking shower. Take off
your clothes and get in.”

  “I. Hate. You,” I say quietly as he stumbles against the doorjamb.

  “Get in the fucking shower, or I’ll make you.”

  “I. Hate. You!”

  The dam breaks and the tears fall.

  “I hate you so much! I hate you, Logan! Do you hear me!”

  He steps forward, looking away from me and at the ground. He stumbles, forcing me back. Then he reaches around me and starts the shower. “Do it yourself, of I’ll make you.”

  “Fuck you!” I cry. “Fuck you!”

  “Get your ass in the shower. You can’t go back smelling like a brewery!”

  “Get out!”

  He glances up at me, and then closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. “Take a fucking shower.”

  Hate

  London

  In the shower, I cry, realizing I’m drunk again. Five cups of beers in less than ten minutes.

  I thought people used alcohol as an escape. What a stupid lie they tell themselves. It does the opposite. It makes them more emotional and vulnerable. It makes them mean and selfish. It makes them hurt people they are supposed to care about with hurtful words that are far more forceful than a fist to the heart.

  When I have cried enough, and self-pity and sadness is replaced with anger and self-loathing, I turn off the water. To think, I ever thought Logan Links wanted me. He doesn’t. To think, he would never hurt me. He did. To think, we could be friends. He will never be.

  I step out from under the rainfall shower head and see a towel and clothes on the sink.

  I dry my hair as best I can, bend over and dry my body, wrap my hair, and then pick up a long-sleeve SU tee-shirt and pull it on.

  I look around for my clothes, wanting to put on my bra, but I can’t find them.

  How did I not know he was in here?

  I step into the far too big running pants and sit down on the closed toilet lid, trying to figure out what I will do next, and not just the immediate future. I mean, holidays, vacations, birthdays. Then I slap the tears from my face and prepare to face whatever I am up against, for long enough for him to pass out so I can leave.

  After a while, I crack open the door as I turn off the light and fan. I hear voices.

  “Don’t,” he whispers. “I’ve fought too long against this beast you created.”

  “I don’t care. I want you,” a female purrs. “I know you want me, too.”

  “Can’t have you,” he moans. “Want you so fucking bad, too.”

  “I know. We can go to London.” I hear a sucking sound.

  “No, not you. Fuck...” he groans. “Oh God, London.”

  “Yes, we’ll go there. We’ll go together,” she says, and then I hear sucking again.

  “Don’t want you doing that. Wanna fuck you, make love to you—do something, anything. But...London.”

  I don’t know why it took so long for it to click that the asshole thinks it’s me. Then I turn the light back on and see blue shirt hovering over him, gripping him with her hand. I swear she’s going to fuck him.

  “Get the fuck out!” I take two steps toward the bed and grab her by the hair.

  “You little bitch!” She grabs my hands that are in her hair.

  “What the fuck?” I hear Logan say, and then a light comes on next to his headboard.

  “Let go of me, you little tease!” She digs her nails into my arm.

  I yank her hard, pulling her onto the floor. Then I open the door with my free hand. She tries to get up, but I pull with all my might until she is in the living room and all eyes are on her.

  “Who the hell let her in there?” I scream then kick her in the bare ass as she tries to get up.

  I feel a hand around my waist, pulling me back.

  “Don’t!” I yell at Logan. “Who let her in?”

  “Everyone was gone,” Jamie says, lips quivering.

  “Well, she was trying to—”

  I feel Logan’s breath against my ear, and then he whispers, “Please don’t.”

  I look back at his eyes. They look confused and so very sad.

  “So sorry.”

  I turn around and point to Mitch. “Get her out of here now!”

  Mitch looks at Logan, and I look back, feeling his head resting on mine, his body slouched against mine. I turn sideways and wrap my arms around his waist, trying to keep him from falling.

  “Does he look like he’s in any shape to tell you he doesn’t want that slut in his room? He was almost passed out and—”

  “London, please,” he whispers again then sighs.

  I turn and look at him. “What is wrong with you? Tell them! Tell them you thought she was me!”

  He doesn’t look at me. He looks at the floor. “Get her out.”

  “You...You said we were going to London,” she stammers as she attempts to right her clothes.

  He pets my head like a dog. “She’s Lond—”

  “Logan, bed!”

  He opens his eyes and nods. As they flutter shut, he whispers, “Sorry.”

  “Logan.” I shake him, and his eyes open. “Bed.”

  When I help him into bed, he grabs my hand. “Stay.”

  “No, no way am I staying.” I try to pull my hand back, but he doesn’t let go.

  “Please. Gotta fix it.”

  I see her look back from the door and climb into his bed just to spite her. He pulls me down, wraps one arm around me, and uses the opposite hand to pull my head to his bare chest. Then entire time, I watch as she walks out.

  I want him to tell them what she did. I want the world to know that it isn’t just guys taking advantage of girls when they are fucked up. Girls do it, too. The difference is, no guy will say he was date raped. Hell, with a society full of blowhard assholes, lighting up social media with their woes, poor me’s, and self-important keyboard warrior rants on sites and pages full of women constantly downing men, men are no longer able to be men, because they will be ridiculed. A man wouldn’t dare.

  Women complain that men are the root of all evil. Well, maybe it’s not men. Maybe it’s people in general. People who hate life, because they think they are owed something. Like the people who talked shit about my dad when he went missing and all those videos were leaked, saying he knew what was going on, that he was willing when he was drugged.

  The whispers didn’t stop then. No, they became screams.

  Our family went through hell. The only hush to the screams came when Maddox was found and his story was told. Then people had to see the ugly this world can’t see. And they can’t see it because Sally is posting that she got a new BMW; that Suzie is upset because she deserves one; that Joe got a promotion and Joanne should have gotten it because women are the minority, when in fact, Joe has met the required qualifications for the position and she hasn’t.

  Logan is wrong, so fucking wrong to have gotten that fucked up. Not even knowing she was sucking him off, and then hovering over him, ready to fuck him without protection. And Lord knows a girl like that is probably carrying a Bible-sized book of STIs between her skanky thighs.

  “She should be in jail,” I hiss.

  “Shh...” He pets me again. “Sleep, London. Sorries tomorrow.”

  I try again to get up when I see Mitch hugging Jamie and she closes her eyes. I want to tell her to run. Run far away, because the longer he’s in her life, the more she will know about him. I want to tell her the more she knows about him, the more she will excuse his shitty behavior. And the more she excuses his shitty behavior, the shittier he will treat her.

  When Schooler stands in the doorway and starts to shut it, I stop him.

  “It stays open.”

  He nods.

  “Make sure no one else is here except us.”

  He nods again and starts to walk away.

  “And when you’re the sober guy,” I yell, and he looks back, “pay attention!”

  I lie in bed, my chest to his ear, listening to his breaths begin to slow and even out. Listenin
g to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat return, listening as calm and the peace that sometimes only sleep can bring overtakes him. Then his hand loosens a bit, and I can move.

  When I sit up, he remains sleeping. I look at the boy, now in a man’s body, who has always been in my life, who has been a constant presence. He’s beautiful, absolutely magnificent to look at. He looks like the man of any girl’s dreams. But inside, he’s broken. I just didn’t realize how badly until tonight.

  I want to help him, because it’s who I am, but I need to do me for once.

  Someday I want to find the man Logan drunkenly and disgustingly cursed tonight as if it was some delusional fairy tale. I want to find my Prince Charming, a man who will love me the way Logan said, but be ready to take all this love I have to give in return.

  Love is not a fairy tale. Fairy tales are in storybooks, full of cartoon characters and silly but beautiful nonsense. Love is real. I have seen it, and I have felt it. And I know someday I will have it.

  But to have love, one must first love themselves...more.

  I look at him sleeping and my heart breaks for the part of me that wants him, my constant and consistent, to be my first kiss, my first love. I realize it’s because never in a million years did I think he would intentionally hurt me, drunk or otherwise, like he did tonight.

  I look at him sleeping and can picture the storm inside him, one caused by divorce, cheating, and lies about love. I want to hold him until they quiet, like I did tonight. I want to pour water over the fire burning inside him until it no longer burns. I want to be the one he trusts with his pain, when he’s sober, not like tonight when he’s drunk.

  I am struck with the realization that I am so lucky to have been young when my parents split, and luckier that I see true love every day in my Dad, Brody, and Mom. Logan, well, he hasn’t had the experience of watching Tessa and Lucas and how they show, give, and take love daily, because he was older. I wish he could have seen it, felt it, lived it.

  But reality is, I can’t make him see that. I can’t make him face what is holding him back. I can’t do it without losing me, and if I lose me, my road to a happy ever after will truly be longer than I can bear to think.

  I bend to steal a kiss, but stop myself. I stop because I wouldn’t be much better than her. I stop because I want my Prince Charming to kiss me first. I stop because I’m so afraid I will crave it every second of every day. But most importantly, I stop because, right now, I know how real this feeling inside me is for him. I cannot allow myself to love a man who showed me just how close to the edge a heart stands when it is finally realized.