The Firsts Series Box Set

by M. J. Fields

  She jumps up from the table, hurries toward me, and whispers, “Don’t tell them I’m here.” Then she walks back to the table and starts eating the rest of her food.

  “I’ll let you know if I see her around.”

  When I walk over to sit, Lily stands. “I gotta get back before it gets dark.”

  “I’ll give you a ride,” I tell her.

  “No,” she says.

  “Everything okay?” Nadia asks.

  “Sure is.” Lily smiles, but it’s a nervous one, which makes me nervous because, as chill as things have been, as good as she’s been, I haven’t caught crazy in her eyes since we kissed, but now she’s kind of looking crazy.

  As I follow her outside, she looks back. “Go eat, Mitch.”

  I run in front of her and squat down. “What’s up, Lily? You’re acting—”

  She throws her hands up. “Crazy?”

  “Well, yeah, I guess a little bit,” I admit.

  “Well, these things go in cycles, you know. I’m about due to lose my shit any day now.”

  My heart sinks. “Lily, what did you do?”

  She shakes her head and steps around me. “Not sure, but I’m guessing I’ll find out soon.”

  “The hell does that mean, Lily?” I call behind her.

  “It means nothing, Mitch,” she says as she starts to jog.

  I run ahead of her. “You could be a little more specific.”

  “And you could get out of my way, or I’ll be late,” she snaps.

  “Just talk to me, for fuck’s sake.”

  “I have to go.”

  I drag her behind me to the barn where my old bike is tossed on the ground. “If you take my bike, you won’t be late.”

  “And then they’ll know I was here.” Her lip trembles.

  “You can toss it in the ditch down by our pasture just down the road.”

  She looks around, eyes all sorts of sketchy.

  “Look, I’m not letting you go like this.”

  “I’m not asking permission!” she yells, taking the bike.

  “Lily, you need to talk to me. I need to know what’s going on,” I call behind her. “Lily, for fuck’s sake.”

  I don’t sleep for shit that night.

  Because of Lily, because of petals.

  I wake up when I feel a body next to me moving.

  Flower.

  “Where you going?” I ask.

  “What’s petals?”

  My eyes open immediately, and I cover them because they burn from the light.

  She doesn’t move as I blink and sit up.

  “You leaving?”

  She frowns. “Yeah, Elle just snuck in. She’s ready.”

  “Well, it was a pleasure.” I wink.

  She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “See you around.”

  “You’ll be back Monday?”

  “From?” she asks, confused.

  I chuckle. “Break.”

  “Oh yeah, I’ll be here.” She turns and walks toward the door.

  “Safe travels,” I call behind her.

  “You, too, Mitch Moore.”

  Mitch

  This place has gone to shit, I think, as I walk up the stairs to the house.

  The door flies open, and Cara bounds out. She jumps on me, hugging me tightly. “You made it.”

  “Told you I would.”

  She jumps down and smiles. “He’s on the wagon again.”

  “Nadia coming back around?”

  “Even with a plethora of warnings via text from yours truly.” She laughs and grabs my hand, pulling me behind her and into the house. “We’re not deep frying the bird this year. Grandma gave me her recipes, and I’m cooking, so you’re off the hook.”

  “Dad know you’re using her recipes?” I shake my head as she opens the door.

  “He’s on the wagon, so of course he doesn’t. Jesus, Mitchell, do I look daft?”

  “No, but you sound different,” I say, stomping my boots off before I walk inside.

  “I prefer collegiate.” She grins. “Retaking the SATs. I wanna go to Syracuse.”

  “No vet school there,” I remind her.

  “I told you I was thinking about changing majors.”

  “Is that Mitch?” Dad yells from the living room.

  “Is this our fucking house?” I ask, looking around. Fresh paint on the walls, floors look clean. “New table?”

  “You left for school, and we thought, why stop at the floors you refinished. We continued working on fixing it up. Buffed out the old table, painted the walls, cleaned out some clutter. Just don’t look too close; some paint allegedly splattered.”

  “Hey, superstar.” Dad smiles as he walks toward me and hugs me … fucking hugs me.

  I pat his back. “Dad.”

  He steps away. “What do you think?”

  “Looks good.” I set down my duffle bag. “Real good.”

  “Turning a new leaf.” He smiles.

  “Over a new leaf,” Cara corrects him.

  “Since when did my kids get smarter than their old man?”

  “Since about age—”

  Cara elbows me, and I glare at her.

  “He’s trying,” she hisses.

  “Isn’t that just great?”

  “People can change, Mitch. You know it better than most, so stop being a buzzkill,” Cara whispers.

  “Played a good season, Mitch. Play another like that, and you’ll be pro before you know it.”

  “Thanks for your support, D—” I scowl at Cara when she kicks me. “Jesus, enough, ya brat.”

  “Then back off,” she growls.

  I’m glad she doesn’t remember shit from when Mom left. Doesn’t remember being fucking hungry, because I fed her. Doesn’t remember losing cable and internet; she watched DVDs until the power was cut off. She didn’t go to school stinking because she was going through puberty, and there was no deodorant. Didn’t get caught taking showers before school because there wasn’t hot water. She never had to pull her old man inside and drag him to the bathroom because he pissed himself and passed out on the porch. Hell, she was lucky enough that he lost his license before she was out of a car seat, and luckier Mom didn’t have a third, so she didn’t have to carry an infant in a car seat from the scene of an accident, so her father didn’t get thrown in jail and end up living with Grandma Moore—just as much of a drunk—in the main house. Difference between her and Dad is she has money, so she can buy her way out of trouble. He had to beg, and when he stopped, I had to.

  “Your room has new curtains, too,” she tells me.

  “New to him.” Dad winks. “We’ve been hitting garage sales—”

  “Dad …” she sighs.

  “I didn’t tell him you were making money selling ‘vintage’ goods online.”

  She laughs. “Oh no? You thought maybe I could take credit for that, huh?”

  “Kind of buggered that up for ya, huh?” Dad smiles.

  “I guess you did.”

  When Lily got in trouble for trashing the bedroom that her foster family was redoing for their first child, it was either get out or go to juvie. Nadia took her in and talked Dad into taking in JT.

  It was cool with him living with me. Not cool when he caught me going down on his sister in the barn—she talked me through the first few times. Apparently, she learned that in juvie, too. But I showed her right quick why I was better at it than any girl— JT beat the living shit out of me. I let him freak out, until he took after her. Then we went toe-to-toe. Didn’t talk for a month. He was pissed, so fucking pissed, and she avoided me for a week unless she was here, making sure he had his meds for his depression. I pretended I didn’t know, and Dad and Nadia didn’t say shit to either Cara or me.

  It was cool that Dad stayed sober to get the check from the county. Longest time he stayed sober since I could remember.

  Wasn’t cool that JT and I ended up hating each other.

  Also wasn’t cool that Nadia changed Lily.

/>   I mean, she bought her clothes that fit her new curves and did her hair the way she liked it. I liked it better wild. But fuck if she was happy. She wasn’t getting in any trouble, and if JT took his meds, he wasn’t necessarily a dick, just quiet as fuck.

  We went to prom. He took Megan Schooler. Lily and I were pretty sure he did it to spite me and her, but neither of us gave a fuck because we were together.

  I didn’t care as much as Lily that he got prom king, and I was second runner-up. She was so pissed. Said I deserved it more. I told her I’d rather have her than a crown, and her eyes fucking sparkled.

  Lost my virginity that night. Took hers with it.

  From that point, nothing mattered more than being between her legs and making her, my queen, come.

  Until we fucked up.

  Sitting in the haymow of the old barn, looking out the barn doors at the sky, is where I feel closest to her. It has nothing to do with the fact this is where we fucked more than anywhere. It’s also where we dreamed.

  She was going to be a stylist, like Nadia, and I was going to play for the NFL. We would leave here, together, and never look back. We would be something bigger than our past.

  “Missed you at my last game,” I tell the sky. “Hope you’re not pissed about me catching feels for her petals. It’s not like that. Never—”

  “You deserve to be happy, brother.”

  I look back and see JT behind me. I stand up and walk over to him. “When the hell did you get here?”

  We hug.

  “Nadia mentioned she and Morgan were talking again, so I decided to fly up.” He steps back. “Nobody fries a turkey like you, man.”

  “Well, you’re out of luck. Cara is roasting the bird.”

  “Not fucking acceptable. It’s tradition.” He smiles and plops down on a hay bale.

  “You wanna discuss that with Cara, be my guest.”

  “Hell no.” He shakes his head. “Especially not if there’re pots and pans around; liable to get one upside the head.”

  “Again.” I chuckle, sitting across from him.

  We both sit in silence for a few too many minutes.

  “This about the girl in the video?”

  “Nah, man, it’s not even a thing.”

  He laughs. “I call bullshit. She’s the first black woman you’ve been with since …” He pauses. “Well, you know.”

  I laugh. “How the hell would you know what I’ve been dabbling with? You’re too busy in Miami, mesmerizing them with your skills.”

  “What can I say?” He shrugs. “Got some things to tell you, though.”

  I lean in. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Got the call.”

  “The call?” I ask.

  He nods. “San Diego.”

  “When the hell did this happen?”

  “The day after our last call,” he admits.

  “And I’m just hearing about it?”

  “Was dealing with some other shit, too.”

  “You taking your med—”

  “Yeah, man, I’m solid.”

  “Then, what other shit?”

  He shrugs. “Fucked up with a girl.”

  “Like fucked up, fucked up, or just pissed her off?”

  “Fucked up, fucked up.” He looks down and slowly releases a breath. “A couple times, actually.”

  “Two different—”

  “Nah, just one.” He shakes his head. “The one, man.”

  “Does she know about—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He leans back and looks up at me. “I was having a hard time this summer when the season started. Called that anonymous number, found out her name. She didn’t have mine from the call. Made sure I met her. You know, wanted to thank her for talking me off a ledge, anonymously, of course. When I saw her, it was like … I don’t know, man, like she was sent here to save my undeserving ass. Followed her to a club, bought her drinks, made her see stars.”

  “That’s cool, man, real cool.”

  He runs his hand over his face. “Fucked her for three days. Shook hands, and she told me, if we met again, it was meant to be. We met again.”

  “That’s great, man.”

  “Yeah, no, it was fucked up. We met in class.”

  “Better yet, right? She’s got her shit together.”

  “She sure does. Youngest psych professor at the university.”

  “You’re fucking with me.”

  He laughs. “My professor.”

  “Okay, I call—”

  “Woman met me at a hotel, beat my ass, and threatened to cut off my dick if I fucked up her life.”

  I shake my head, still shocked.

  “Told her the God’s honest truth, that I wasn’t sure I could keep that promise and told her why.”

  I suck in air through my teeth.

  “Yeah, well, that was a fucking tough nut to swallow. Fucked up thing was, I started dreaming of Lilyanne that night. Went to class the next day. She was a hot mess. And I sent her a message telling her I swore on my sister’s soul that I would do everything in my power not to fuck anything up for her. And man, I meant it. After class, she messaged me and told me, if I messaged her again, she’d have my balls, too.”

  I laugh.

  “She reminds me of Lilyanne. Sounds fucked up, but she does.”

  “Crazy protective.”

  He nods and squints his eyes. “I got a text a week later. Was happy as fuck to finally get one from her. I mean, sitting in her class, looking at a body I would bow to, a brain I would fucking worship if that was a thing, a woman who came from nothing and made her way.”

  Fucking hurt, man, listening to him struggle with this, just as much as it hurt that Lily never had a chance because she would have been something special. She was something special.

  He clears the emotion from his throat. “A week later, she sends me the text. We meet up, she tells me she’s pregnant, and I tell her I’m all in. She told me over her dead body.”

  “Ouch.” I cringe.

  “Yeah, right. Not shit I wanna hear. Nor did I wanna hear some of the other shit that came out of her mouth, but I did. She fucking crushed me. Made me see who the fuck I was, who I would always be, and she referred me to another shrink. I told her to shove the card up her ass, and she told me, and I quote, ‘her child would never see me if I didn’t face my shit.’ So, I’ve faced my shit, brother.”

  “I’m proud of you, man.”

  “So is she.” He points up. “I feel it.” He hits his chest. “I got the call, and I’m going to take it. Whatever we lose when we sell the app—”

  “Nah, don’t worry about that.”

  “You’ve taken care of my ass for years; don’t think I’m not gonna take care of yours.”

  “I’m good.”

  “And Cara, I’m paying her tuition, wherever she goes.”

  “You have a kid on the way—”

  “And a fat fucking deal that I can live on for the rest of my life if I play my cards right.” He laughs. “Not even sure she’s going to let me be a part of it, but I’m gonna do whatever I can to prove I can do this. That I am capable.”

  “Not for nothing, man, but she’d be bouncing off walls she’d be so happy for you.”

  “Instead, she’s bouncing on clouds.” He smiles.

  Running up University Avenue, snow falling by the bucket, not a star in the sky, I push myself harder, because she’s not talking to me anymore and I want to sleep without drinking. I will be damned if I become him—bitter, angry, resentful because his life sucks because of all the wrong he’s had done to him.

  He’s happy. JT’s healed. Cara’s doing great.

  My light is gone.

  Fucking gone, and I still need her here.

  I hit the steps and run up past the Hall of Languages’ building then down the path.

  When I hear screaming, I stop and turn to see a fucking sled coming straight at me with two people on it.

  “Get out of the way!” a woman booms.

&
nbsp; “Oh my—” the other screams.

  “What the fuck?” I yell as I get nailed by a sled, and a woman gets flung at me.

  “You fool!” The woman who’s lying in the snowbank that launched them at me, to begin with, is laughing her ass off as the other’s back is to my chest, flailing about when my ass hits concrete.

  “I am so sorry.” She turns toward me.

  “Jesus Christ, Jamie,” I gasp.

  “Lord’s name, son.” The woman stands up and dusts herself off, laughing as she looks up at me.

  “Carla? What the—You went to my grandmother?” I snap at Jamie.

  “You be kind to this one. We worked for two days feeding people.”

  “What in the actual—”

  “Mitchell Moore, you’re in the presence of a woman of Christ—know your place.”

  Jamie is still on my lap, still not saying a thing, jaw hanging down in shock.

  “You get her back to her dorm and drag this abomination she calls a sled and thought was a good idea back with you.” She shoves the sled into the snowbank then points at me. “And mind where you’re sitting.”

  Jamie looks behind me and jumps up, her feet slipping out from under her because she’s got those fucking cowboy boots on, and she almost lands on her ass.

  I grab her and pull her back toward me.

  “Bad idea, Giddy-up.” She shakes her head.

  “Bad idea saving your ass twice from landing on this …” I look back and can’t stop myself from laughing for the first time in days.

  “Don’t get any ideas, player.” She stands up, more carefully this time.

  “What makes you think that was my idea?” I ask, standing. “You crashed into me.”

  She takes her sled and starts to trudge down the path.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Sledding,” she calls from over her shoulder.

  I run to catch up to her. “You sure that’s a good idea? You kind of suck at it.”

  She reaches down, scoops up some snow, and throws it in my face.

  “You’re begging for an ass-whooping.”

  “I’ve had two great days, Mitchell Moore. Don’t you yellow my snow.”

  It dawns on me that she’s here, not in Mississippi. “What the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be home.”