First Time (2 page)

“One Pecan Mudslide,” he says. And even though it’s my purchase he’s sliding across the counter, I could just as well be the soft-ice-cream machine. “And...” He does a drumroll. “Coffee for the lovely lady.” He winks at Lynn. How cheesy is that? Who the hell winks in this day and age?

“Come on,” I say, grabbing my ice cream. “Let’s sit over here.” I think she’s following me, but when I plop down in my seat, I can see that the guy is still chatting her up. He’s giving her a pen, a napkin, and now she’s writing her name and phone number down. This guy is way too old for her, but there’s nothing I can do about it. So I eat my ice cream and pretend like I’m enjoying it.

When Lynn finally makes her way to our table, it’s like she’s only half there. Her body is with me, sipping nasty, bitter
coffee, but her mind, her smile—they’re still hanging out with Chad. Apparently that’s his name, Chad. Sheesh, even his name reeks of corn.

Chapter Four

“He hasn’t called yet,” Lynn says, spinning her combination lock back around, landing on 32.

“Well...” I’m pretending like I don’t understand it either, but really, I don’t know what Lynn’s been smoking. This guy’s not going to call some starry-eyed eleventh grader no matter how cute she is. “It’s only been two days,” I say. “Maybe he lost it or something.”

She jerks hard on her lock and it opens with a snick. “I doubt it.” Lynn slams her books in her locker and takes out her lunch. “He probably came to his senses. Why would he want to date me? He probably thinks I’m a loser.”

“Isn’t that a little extreme? Maybe he’s busy. Maybe he already has a girlfriend.”

“Then why,” Lynn says patiently, like I’m really stupid, “would he ask for my number?”

“Because he’s an asshole?” I say helpfully.

“Oh, shut up.” She whacks me on the arm. Not hard. Not in a mean way.

“Maybe he likes collecting phone numbers so he can feel like a hotshot. Relive his glory days.”

“Give me a break. Chad wouldn’t do that.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know. The guy’s perfect.” No way to argue with that kind of logic, so I keep my mouth shut while Lynn closes
her locker. We swing by the bathroom so she can give her hair a brush, reapply her strawberry lip-gloss. I put some on too, and then we head out to the field.

I think she’s going to let the subject drop, but I’m no more than two bites into my tuna fish sandwich when she starts up again.

“Do you think he’s going to call?”

“Who?”

“Chad,” Lynn says impatiently.

It’s really a no-win situation. “I don’t know,” I say. “What about Dwayne? I thought you were going out with him.”

“Oh puleaze!”

“What? I thought you were.”

“I’m done with him,” Lynn snorts in disgust.

“He’s too young. So babyish!”

“But...” I say, feeling slightly panicky.

“He’s our age.”

“So what. He doesn’t act like it. Last weekend we went for a hike.”

“Um-hmm...” I nod. I don’t know what’s so wrong with going for a hike.

“Well, I packed a nice picnic lunch, brought a blanket. I even bribed my brother to buy me a bottle of Baby Duck.”

She shakes her head. Bites into her carrot angrily.

“I went through all that trouble to make it nice and romantic. But does he
do
anything? No! I even pretended to fall asleep when he was feeling me up for Christ’s sake! So he wouldn’t feel shy about trying to go further. I mean, what more does he want?”

Lynn throws her hands up in disgust. “No. I’m done with Dwayne. We’ve been going out for six months now, and the most he ever wants to do is kiss and touch my breasts. And it takes at least an hour for him to work up the courage to do that!”

It’s funny how she’s mad about Dwayne being so shy and respectful of her.

There is a cheer at the end of the field. Some of the guys are playing soccer. Ricky is running around pumping his fists in the air. He must have scored.

“I wonder what it’s like,” Lynn says after a long pause.

“What what’s like? Soccer?” It’s kind of hard to follow her.

“No. You know. What
it’s
like. Doing it. I want to know.” There’s such longing in her voice. Such curiosity. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be her.

She turns to face me. “What do you think it looks like?”

My face flushes. An image flashes into my head, but she can’t possibly be talking about that. We never talk as frankly as that.

“What?” My voice squeaks a bit.

“You know, their thing,” she says, laughing at the expression on my face. “Have you ever seen one?”

“No!” I say, even though I have. I’ve seen Larry’s. It happened last week. He’d accidentally left the bathroom door open. I guess he was getting ready to take a piss. Maybe he thought I’d already left for school. I don’t know. Anyway, I walked by.

“Oops,” he’d said, turning to give me the full-on view. He was dressed for work, suit, tie, polished black shoes, matching belt, and then there was his penis, all mottled and limp, lying in his hand.

“Haley,” he’d said, smiling slightly, as if I’d walked by on purpose to take a peek. I turned away quickly, cheeks flaming, and walked away. I thought I heard him laugh, but I’m not sure. It might have been the back screen door slamming behind me.

I want to tell Lynn it’s not so great, seeing one. It’s not so special. Kind of disgusting if you want to know the truth, but how do I tell her that? What would she think? That I was spying on my mom’s new boyfriend taking a pee?

“I wonder what it looks like.” Lynn interrupts my thoughts.

“I don’t know,” I say.

“I wonder what it looks like hard.”

There is another cheer at the end of the field.

“Oh look,” I say, jumping to my feet. “Somebody scored again.” I pretend to watch for a couple of seconds and then say, “Hey, you want to go for a walk? I want to get a drink from the cafeteria.”

Lynn starts laughing. “Oh, Haley, you are such an innocent.” Like she’s oh-so-sophisticated.

“I am not,” I say, turning away from her, heading for the school. By the time she catches up with me, my face is back to its normal color.

Chapter Five

It’s colder today. There was frost on the train tracks this morning as I was walking to school. It made them kind of slippery. But does the cold deter Lynn? No, she wants ice cream. Not just any ice cream. It was decided at lunch that we were going to go to Dairy Queen after school. And don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I don’t have to walk home today...but Dairy Queen again?

“Lynn,” I say, as we make our way through the hordes of fleeing students. “You know, I was thinking, maybe we should...” We emerge through the back doors of the school, the sunlight bright in our eyes. “...go somewhere else. He’s not going to be there.”

“How do you know?” Lynn says, cutting across the pathetic strip of lawn.

“He hasn’t been there the last five times we’ve gone.”

“We’ve just got to figure out what his hours are. What days he works.”

“But why?” I’m getting impatient with her. “I mean, really, if he wanted to get in touch with you, he would have called. Not to mention, I’m getting pretty sick of ice...”

“Hey!” someone shouts. “Watch out.” I leap to the side. Thank God I have good reflexes because I barely avoid a head-on collision with that pain in the ass, Justin. He’s trying to impress his stupid gaggle of groupies, that follows him around the school, by doing wobbly figure eights on his unicycle.

“
You
watch out!” I snap. I mean, God. Give me a break. I run to catch up with Lynn, who has already reached the edge of the parking lot. But that isn’t a good move because I almost smack into the back of her. Not my fault, of course. She was walking regular speed when all of a sudden she stopped dead in her tracks.

“Haley,” she says in a half whisper, clutching my arm. “He’s here! Oh my god, he’s here at our school!”

It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out who she’s talking about. There’s Chad, with a group of guys, admiring some-one’s chromed-out motorcycle. But even worse, Chad’s butt is resting up against the passenger side of Lynn’s car.

“It’s fate,” Lynn breathes. “This is my chance. How do I look?”

“You look great,” I say, even though I don’t have a good feeling in my stomach. What’s this guy doing at our school? He graduated. Why’s he hanging around in our parking lot with a bunch of twelfth graders?

Lynn digs around in her purse for her car keys, her good-luck talisman. “Here they are,” she says, scooping them out, casually twirling them on her forefinger. She’s obviously been practicing this move a lot. She’s got it down good.

“Let’s go,” she says, and we head toward her car. “So, Haley, where do you want to go?” Lynn asks nonchalantly, in a slightly louder voice than normal.

I’m not quite sure how I’m supposed to answer this one. Is it a real question? Am I supposed to tell the truth? Or lie and say Dairy Queen?

“How about Dairy Queen?” I’m speaking a little louder than normal too. I don’t want to, but I am her friend.

“I could do with a Dilly Bar.”

“Nah.” Lynn tosses her head. “I don’t feel like Dairy Queen today. How about Starbucks?” Starbucks my ass!

“Sure,” I say. “Starbucks sounds good.”

“Excuse me,” Lynn says to Chad, nudging him with her elbow. “But she has
to get in here.” Like I’m a two-year-old and can’t speak for myself.

Chad looks up. Obviously I don’t register. Lynn doesn’t either, until she does that swirl thing with her keys on her forefinger, and his eyes follow the swing of the car keys around to her face. I can see him trying to put the pieces together. Pulling her face up from the doubtless hundreds of girls that he has logged into his brain.

“I know you,” he says, catching her finger, her keys in their mid-circle swirl. Their eyes catch too. “Where was it?” he says.

Lynn smiles, bites her lower lip slightly, releases it. “I don’t know,” she says, sounding truly perplexed. I had no idea she was such a good actress.

“Thetis Lake maybe...this summer?”

“No...I don’t think so.” She shakes her head like she’s confused.

“Andrew’s party last weekend?”

“Um...”

“Dairy Queen,” I say, cutting through the bull. “You met her at Dairy Queen.”
I’m surprised at how loud my voice sounds. Loud and flat.

“You think?” Lynn says, looking dubious.

“That’s right,” Chad says. “No, she’s right. That’s where I remember you from, Dairy Queen. You came in, what, a couple of weeks ago.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, you gave me your number.”

“Oh...Oh yeah.” Lynn smiles. “I remember now. You look different in your regular clothes.”

“Yeah, that uniform is pretty bad.”

“Yeah,” Lynn says, laughing with him. “Poor you. Oh well, it’s a job.”

“Was a job,” Chad says, smiling ruefully. “I got fired.” I’m tempted to say, No wonder all our trips to Dairy Queen turned out a bust. But I don’t. Instead I stand there smiling as if this is fun for me too.

“This your car? Or your parents’?” he says.

“It’s mine.” Lynn runs her hand along the roof. “All mine.” And the way she says
“All mine,” it’s as if her words are dipped in honey, coming out all slow and sweet and full of promise.

“Cool,” Chad leans forward, setting both his hands on either side of Lynn’s shoulders, resting on her car. “You got your own wheels.” He smiles at her like she’s all that matters. “Wanna take me for a spin?”

“Absolutely,” Lynn says, giving her hair a slow toss. Her eyes, a dare.

And that’s it. He hops in the front passenger seat. Lynn gets behind the wheel, and she pulls out, tires spitting gravel and dust.

“Guess you aren’t going to Starbucks,” one of his friends says with a smirk.

“Oh, shut up.” I don’t even look at him, just fling the words over my shoulder as I start the long walk home.

Chapter Six

Mom pokes at the gloop in her bowl.

“How on earth did you manage to burn the chili? That’s like burning soup, for crying out loud.”

“Your girl has real talent,” Larry says. They are both laughing, like I’m such a funny little girl. And it pisses me off, how they’re being so condescending.

“If you don’t like it, then why are you eating it?” I mutter under my breath.

“Haley.” Mom sounds shocked. “Don’t be rude.”

Rude?
I’m
being rude? I’m supposed to sit here and suck it up? Them talking about me like I’m not even here? Like I’m a two-year-old or something? I’m supposed to be polite to this donkey’s ass just because she likes him? And the memory of seeing his dick lying in his hand, the expression on his face, makes something in me snap. The next thing I know I’m standing up.

“Look,” I shout, slamming my hands on the table, “I didn’t
mean
to burn it, okay! It’s not like I did it on purpose. It’s not like I said,
Oh
, I’m going to go through all this trouble of making a nice dinner for everybody and then I’m going to burn it because
that
will be fun! Jeeze, Mom, what do you think I am? Some kind of idiot?”

“Haley!” Mom says, her eyes flashing daggers. “That’s
enough
.” Like Larry’s feelings are more important than mine.

“You’re right. It’s enough!” I’m crying now too, which really surprises me. I mean,
it’s only stupid chili for God’s sake. But it’s like someone is taking over my body, and I can hear my voice scream, “I’ve had it. I’ve had it up to here! I’m done. Make your own damn dinner from now on.”

Mom might be answering now, but if she is, I can’t hear. Whatever. I storm out of the kitchen, and when I get to my bedroom, I slam the door hard. Grab my calculus book off the bed and hurl it at the door. It makes a satisfying thunk.

“Stupid bitch!” I say, which feels good, but it’s a mixed sort of good. It’s freeing, sort of, to use that word about my mom. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that it makes me feel guilty too. Even though she deserves it.

Chapter Seven

Mom didn’t come up. She always comes to my room after we fight. Always. We talk and sort it out and apologize. And we don’t just talk about the fight and what happened and what was said. We talk about everything, life, what’s going on at school, me and Lynn, her friends at work. We always do this. I don’t understand why she didn’t come up. It’s not like I called her a stupid bitch to her face. I said it behind her back,
and quietly too. There’s no way she ever could have heard me.