the first one • j. hughes

35

"I think I'm going to puke," I say.

Kiana's entire face morphs into disgust. We're in our tiny little common area. Our third suitemate is, as per usual, at her girlfriend's. I'm fully dressed for my date. Jack will be here any minute. I am stressed. In case that wasn't obvious.

"Please don't puke," she requests.

"I think I might."

"Don't!" Ki's exasperated. She hates puke.

My phone buzzes and the pukey feeling intensifies. She glances at my phone. Asking me silently to check it to see if it's him. I feel so nervous. I've been on a million dates and have never been this nervous for one. Jack has that effect on me.

Sure enough, the text is from him saying he's here. He let me pick the restaurant. I ended up having to toss a coin because I truly couldn't decide between the two finalists. This date needs to be perfect. He deserves a perfect first date with me.

Ki sighs. "If you don't get your ass up in the next minute, I'm tossing you out the window."

"Jesus," I mumble. Still, I know she's serious so I get up and gather my shit.

The trip down is equally nerve-wracking. Every step I take is causing my heartbeat to go a bit faster. The crisp fall night air bites into my skin. It grounds me. Until I see Jack in a nice button-down and dress pants and I'm nervous all over again. He lights up the moment he sees me. It makes all the nerves disappear.

This is Jack. My Jack. The boy that would race me down to the dock. The boy that would make sure if one of us was falling off the tube, the other was too. This is the boy that taught me to shoot a puck when no one else could. The boy that makes sense. The boy that has been here my whole life.

"You look—" He cuts himself off to take another sweep of my green satin dress. My hair is as long and unstyled as ever. "You look perfect, Prez."

"Says you," I say. His hair's that perfect length he gets it to be a few weeks after a haircut. The styling he clearly attempted has already fallen apart a bit. "You're everything."

"So I've heard."

I roll my eyes. "Let's get going, Row."

"Lead the way," he says, interlocking our pinkies.

* * * * *

I'm lost in Jack. That silly little thing I've never been able to do openly without feeling weird or exposed or guilty or something. Right now, I have an excuse. I'm on a date with the guy. I'm on a date with him and I'm allowed to be lost in him. That's my right.

"Yeah so then— Holy shit." Jack huffs and pulls his phone out. "This is borderline harassment. Why aren't you getting this?"

"Do not disturb," I say because the solution is that obvious.

"Go tell them all to shut up. They won't listen to me."

I laugh but pull out my phone anyways. "And you think they'll listen to me?"

"Luke and Quinn will."

"Wow, two for seven!"

"Eight," he corrects, scrunching up his face.

"No. Seven," I state. Then count on my fingers. "Luke, Quinn, Penn, Ki, Trevor, Alex, Cole. Shit, we need more mutual girl friends."

"And Holland," Jack says as though that isn't the most ridiculous thing ever.

It's my turn to scrunch up my face, shaking my head. "I didn't tell her."

"Well, I didn't either," he mumbles.

That leaves us in silence. I'm not exactly talking to her right now. If I do, I won't be very nice. She'll go to Mom. It'll lead to a whole civil war. Luke's not talking to her. Penn doesn't really talk to her in the first place 'cause Quinny's the main link in the older half gossip web. And Quinn isn't very happy with her either.

"You think one of the parents told her?" Jack takes my next train of thought right from my brain. "Do you think she even knows?"

I shrug. "I don't really care if she knows. She'd probably try to talk us out of it."

"A little late for that, yeah?"

"A little bit," I laugh.

Jack nods, laughing quietly. If I could take pictures with my brain, I'd take a million right in those seconds of laughter. I think if someone asked me my favorite thing about him and didn't accept everything as an answer, I'd say his laugh. The boy who loves getting people to laugh's laugh is my favorite part about him.

"Y'know, I used to imagine our first date," I admit. His eyes snap up to look at me in pure awe. "Like, at one point I imagined a picnic out back at the lake house. A hockey game. Miss Lacy's. Hell, one time there was a shitty ass carnival near the lake house and I wanted my first kiss to be with you on the ferris wheel that looked sketchy as hell."

He laughs. "I remember that ferris wheel. We scared the shit out of Luke, telling him we kept hearing banging noises every time we moved."

"Pretty sure I actually did at one point."

"At the top?" His eyes go wide as I nod. "Me too."

"You're not gonna make fun of me for how many times I've imagined we'd go on a date?" I question.

"Was thinking I'd save it for the second date." There's a second where I'm convinced I'm delusional. That he didn't actually say it. But then he smiles at me in this super specific way and I know I heard him truly and right.

"Who said you earned a second date?" My voice is light and teasing. It feels fragile.

Jack reaches across the table with one hand, locking our pinkies together. "Kenny honey, no one in their right mind would buy that."

"Are you that confident you deserve a second date or that confident that I like you that much? Or confident that you like me that much?"

He just shakes his head. A small motion to say that the answer is a little bit of all three. It's hard to think about, I think. For both of us. To think that we both feel this way at the same damn time. That we're fully on a date right now. Something both of us have done with plenty of other people. But it's us this time. It's hard to think about how huge it is. It's hard to think about how everything has led to this, how everything can come from this.

* * * * *

"Hey," Jack says as we stop. "Did you get a card?"

I smile the moment the words leave his mouth thinking about the card my mom sent me. Dad had either known or really hoped Jack and I would get our shit together. His PS on this one was "Make sure Jack walks you to the door. If he doesn't, don't go on another date with him."

"Yeah. Did you?" I ask.

"Yeah. Told me to walk you to the door and that I better be the best gentleman the world has ever seen." He shrugs and pulls me by my hand closer to him. "Did I do a good job?"

Instead of answering, I reach up and push back some hair that had fallen into his face during the night. I want to see him fully. Want to engrave this sight into my mind. He pulls me closer, his hands landing on my hips that are pressed into his.

"Not sure gentleman do this on the first date," I whisper.

"Good night kisses are mandatory in the gentleman handbook, I think," he mumbles back. In the next second, his lips are on mine.