A First Time for Everything Read online

  I sit down across from him, but now that I’m here, I’m having trouble making eye contact.

  “I’ve been thinking about the other night,” he says, his voice low, the way he sounds in bed.

  A wash of heat sweeps over me. “Me, too.” After everything we’ve done together, this is all I can manage.

  Audrey appears beside us and clears her throat loudly. “Should I leave you two alone?”

  I sit up straighter. “Of course not.”

  She gives us both wary looks and sits down with a heavy sigh.

  “So how’s your semester going?” Casey gamely asks her.

  She gives him a look. “Really?”

  He shrugs. “Never mind.”

  Trace shows up a few minutes later, completely oblivious to the awkward vibe. “What’s up, guys?”

  “Hi, Trace. How’s it going?” I ask, but it comes out loud and fake-sounding, like I’m a bad community theater actor.

  “Fine, thanks!” he says, because that’s just how he is.

  Casey bites his lip like he’s trying not to smile, and Audrey rolls her eyes. As if all this isn’t bad enough, Jen shows up out of nowhere, and she never eats with us on Mondays.

  “Is there room for me?” she asks, dragging a chair from another table. She plants it right next to Casey, who’s now squeezed between her and Trace.

  He shoots me a quick look from the corner of his eye, as if pleading for help. When I catch Audrey’s eye, she gives me a hard look, and I know what she’s thinking.

  This is exactly what she was afraid of.

  I’m definitely going to hear about it later, but in the meantime, I need to keep things from getting weirder.

  “Was class cancelled?” I ask Jen.

  “I finished the exam early.”

  Trace asks Jen about the article she wrote for the paper last week, which was on travel opportunities at Carlyle, and soon everyone’s talking about the summer abroad trips they took and where they want to travel before they start working for real.

  Jen turns to Casey. “What are you doing after graduation?”

  “Working for my dad,” he says, his voice sharp.

  She looks like he slapped her in the face, and I wince as if it were me on the receiving end.

  I scarf down the last few bites of my food and stand. “I’d better get going,” I tell the table at large. “I want to review my notes before class.”

  I dump my tray and head out into the chilly sunshine, relief flooding me at my escape. I’m about thirty yards from the dining hall when I hear Casey calling me.

  “Hannah, wait up,” he says, coming up beside me.

  “What are you doing? Did Jen see you come after me?”

  “I went out the opposite side of the building, and I felt like an asshole doing it. Is she really that psycho?”

  “No, but she’ll be upset if she finds out, and with good reason.”

  People are flowing around us on both sides, and some of them give us curious looks, because Casey gets that kind of attention. I grab his arm and pull him off the walkway onto the grass. Unfortunately, even a casual touch like that floods me with awareness.

  “Besides,” I continue, “there are probably fifty other girls in there watching your every move, and I don’t need people speculating. We’re supposed to be a secret.”

  “Fine, but it’s not like we’re making out. I’m just talking to you.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just a little freaked out. I don’t have any experience with this.”

  “With what?”

  I want to brush the question off, but I always end up telling Casey what I feel, even when it’s awkward. I wave my hands around, embarrassed. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to act, especially when it’s not supposed to be happening.”

  “Hannah,” he says, his expression softening. “Thursday night was amazing.” He pauses, uncertainty chasing across his face. “Wasn’t it?”

  “God, yes. But—”

  He smiles then, his confidence back in place. He hasn’t shaved today, and his thick hair is tousled, like he just rolled out of bed. The faint circles under his eyes make him look sexier, somehow. Human, touchable. I want to bury myself in that warmth, feel those muscles rippling beneath my hands.

  “Why don’t you come by tonight?” he asks, his gaze locked on mine.

  A rush of heat sweeps over me, but I hesitate. Before I can answer, a big guy I recognize as a varsity football player—Jason something or other—comes up to Casey.

  “Hey man,” Jason says, slapping him on the back. “I thought you were coming to Sweeney’s the other night. You missed a good time, and that Heather girl was asking about you.”

  Casey looks pissed. “I got tied up with something else.”

  Jason looks at me, then back to Casey. “I’m sure you did.”

  Casey’s eyes dart to me. “Ah…”

  Great, just what I need. “I’ll see you later,” I say, walking away.

  “Dumbass,” I hear him say to Jason, and then he’s beside me again. “Hannah, wait.”

  I stop, but I’m not sure what it is I’m feeling. He may have chosen me over Sweeney’s, but there’ll be other nights when he won’t.

  “That guy’s an idiot. Forget him.”

  “It’s none of my business anyway.”

  “Then why are you mad at me?”

  “I’m—” I break off. I am mad, but I don’t have any right to be. I let out a slow breath. “Can we start over?”

  He looks relieved and a little uncertain. “I was asking if you wanted to come over tonight.”

  “I don’t think I can.” I don’t specifically have anything to do other than the usual reading, but I need to put a little space between my nights with him, or it’ll be more than I can handle.

  His face falls.

  “But I can probably do Wednesday.”

  He smiles, and everything is all right with the world. Where did I find the strength to deny him even a day?

  “Wednesday it is,” he says.

  We stand there gazing at each other. Not smiling exactly, but happy.

  The tower bell chimes the hour.

  “Oh crap,” we say at the same time. And then we’re laughing and running, our backpacks bouncing against us. We’re breathless by the time we get to the doors.

  “See you, Hannah,” he says, blazing his full glory at me.

  I stand there, stunned into silence, and watch him race up the stairs.

  …

  Later that night, I’m sitting in our common room watching SNL on YouTube when Audrey comes home.

  She sits down with me and watches for a bit, but she doesn’t laugh at anything, even the really funny sketches. When a commercial comes on she turns to me. “Today at lunch really freaked me out. The way Casey looks at you, Jen’s bound to notice, if she hasn’t already.”

  “What do you mean, the way he looks at me?”

  “Seriously? You haven’t noticed the way his eyes get all focused and heated? He wants to jump your bones.”

  “He already did.”

  “Well, he wants to do it again. And again, and—”

  “Okay, I get it.”

  “And then there’s how you look at him.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Oh, but you do.”

  “The thing is, we’re kind of friends now. It’s not just messing around anymore.”

  The commercials are over but Audrey hits pause and turns her entire body so she’s facing me.

  “Honey, you and I are friends. You and Casey are never going to be in a room together without wanting to screw, which means you are not friends. You might like each other, but that’s not the same thing. You’re getting into dangerous territory here. Unless you’re willing to be honest with Jen, this can’t g
o anywhere.”

  “If I thought there was a chance it could be something serious, I’d tell her. But you know how he is. He could be tired of me tomorrow, and he’d ditch me the second I wanted more from him. Besides, we’re too different to actually date each other.”

  “You don’t have to convince me. If anyone was going to cheat on you, it would be him.”

  Intellectually, I know what she says is true. I’ve known it all along. The trouble is, I can’t reconcile it with the Casey I see in private.

  Then again, maybe that’s what all the girls think.

  “Seriously, Hannah. He’s good for teaching you the ropes and that’s it. Do what you need to do soon and end it.”

  “I know. And I will.”

  But even as I say it, I know I’m not ready to let him go. The thought of never touching him again makes me want to howl.

  We need to be more careful, that’s all.

  …

  The next afternoon I’m filling in at the health clinic when I go to the bathroom and discover I got my period. I didn’t expect it for another couple of days, and my heart sinks when I realize I’ll have to cancel tomorrow’s lesson. No way am I messing around with him when I’m bleeding.

  The question is, do I tell him why I’m cancelling? That would be the mature thing to do. It would be weird if I never got my period in all the time we’ve been hanging out. Besides, I’m going to be a doctor. I can’t be squeamish about something so normal.

  Taking a deep breath, I pull out my phone and text him. Hey Casey. I have to cancel tomorrow. Got my period. : (

  He writes back a minute later. We can still hang, tho, right? Maybe watch a movie?

  I didn’t see that coming, but I suppose it’s not so different from meeting in the lounge by accident and watching something together. Like friends, except that according to Audrey we’re not.

  That sounds great, I write. I’ll come by @ 9?

  Cool. I’ll see you soon.

  I could stand here and ruminate for hours about what this new development means—no doubt reading way too much into it—but there’s a room full of people waiting to be seen, and then I’m meeting my biology study group to go over problem sets.

  It’s not until I’m in the shower that night that I let my thoughts dwell on Casey. Tomorrow night is supposed to be chaste, but I’m not sure how I’m going to keep my hands off him, especially when I can’t stop thinking about last time. Was I imagining it, or did he seem let down that I left so quickly?

  I don’t do such a great job of compartmentalizing my Casey thoughts on Wednesday. I’m distracted during class, and at the lab afterward I lose track of what I’m doing and have to start an experiment all over again.

  “You okay, Hannah?” one of the postdocs asks.

  “I’m fine,” I say, my face hot with embarrassment. “I think I missed a step, is all.”

  I make myself focus after that, but I rush through dinner by myself at the food court and run back to my room to get ready, stopping only at the university store for some snacks.

  Whatever happens, I’m going to be close to him, so I put nice lotion on after my shower and take time to dry my hair. Audrey comes back while I’m dressing, but I stay in my room. It’ll be easier for her if she doesn’t know any details, and besides, it’s not like she wants to hear about us.

  I pull on jeans and a plain blue T-shirt and swipe on a tiny bit of blush. My teeth are brushed, and I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

  It’s not a date and it’s not a lesson, but it doesn’t matter. Being with Casey is the main event. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing.

  Grabbing my water bottle and the bag from the store, I open the door quietly, hoping Audrey doesn’t stick her head out of her room and ask me where I’m going. I look both ways down the hallway, then wait as a few people pass and Jorge lets himself into his room.

  As soon as the coast is clear, I tiptoe down the hall to Casey’s door, which is standing ajar. I give a quick knock and step inside, shutting it before anyone can see me.

  The scent of tea tree shampoo hits me first, his smile second.

  “Come on in,” he says, moving some books off the bed to the floor. He looks around, like he’s checking that nothing is out of place. “We’ll have to watch on my computer, and it’s not very big. I keep thinking I should get a flat-screen TV, but I don’t have time to watch it anyway.”

  I did think it was odd that someone with Casey’s money wouldn’t have all the flashiest electronics, but he’s way busier than I originally gave him credit for.

  “I’m used to watching everything on a laptop.” I sit down on the edge of the bed and hold out the bag of M&M’s I got us. “We can’t have a movie night without snacks.”

  “Awesome.”

  We both slide back until we’re sitting against the wall, and he puts his laptop in front of us.

  “I wasn’t sure what you’d want to watch,” he says, scrolling through Netflix. “But the last Wes Anderson movie is here, and—”

  “I haven’t seen that yet. Have you?”

  “Yeah, but I’d see it, like, six more times. It’s so good.”

  “Let’s watch that, then.”

  The overhead light casts a glare on the screen, so Casey gets up and turns it off, then turns on the lava lamp on his bookshelf. When he sits back down again, he’s a little closer.

  We watch for a little while—the bag of candy open between us. The movie is as good as Casey said it was, but I can’t concentrate on it with him next to me. He hasn’t even touched me, and I’m trembling with need for him. I crave his taste, his skin, the way he moves and breathes.

  Is it possible to be addicted to a person? And if I am, what’s the cure?

  The wall behind me is like some kind of penance for wanting Casey. About a half hour into the movie, I start to shift around, trying to find a better position.

  “Here,” he says, handing me a pillow. “Try this.”

  I slide it in back of me, and we keep watching. But I’m not the only one who’s uncomfortable. Casey shoves the other pillow behind him, but it keeps falling to the side.

  “We could try lying down with the laptop between us,” I suggest.

  He closes the computer and moves it to his nightstand so we can arrange the pillows back at the head of the bed.

  “Too bad I didn’t bring extra pillows,” I say, lying back against mine.

  He lies down next to me. “That would definitely look suspicious.”

  “Even though it’s completely innocent.”

  He doesn’t reply. We’re lying side by side, only inches apart, and I can still faintly smell tea tree oil. The lava lamp glows, casting the room in intimate shadow.

  I can’t stand it anymore. I need to touch him or I’ll die. I roll to my side and lay my palm against his cheek. “You shaved.”

  His breath shudders out, and then he turns until we’re facing each other, only inches apart. But he holds back, like he’s anxious about breaking the rules we laid down for tonight. I don’t have that problem because I no longer remember why I thought I couldn’t kiss him.

  With my hand still on his jaw, I lean toward him and press my lips to his. He groans and cups the back of my head in his hand, licking into my mouth. He tastes like chocolate and everything delicious in the world.

  I press against his chest until he rolls onto his back, and then I’m leaning over him and drowning him in kisses—his mouth, the strong line of his jaw, his neck. Something’s different this time, like maybe I’m showing him something new. It’s sweet and desperate, chaste and primal all at the same time. I want more of him, and I want to give him more of me, but it’s not just physical this time. Something in me needs to be filled, and this is the only way. Only no matter how much I get of him—it doesn’t seem to be enough.

  I pull away, confused
by my own longing. “I shouldn’t have started that.”

  “Hannah…”

  “I’m going to run to the bathroom,” I say, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. “We should probably try to watch the movie when I come back.”

  He looks strangely lost, like he’s not sure what just happened. “Okay.”

  In the bathroom, I stare at myself in the mirror, trying to get a grip. This was supposed to be a mellow night watching a movie. I don’t know what just happened in there, but it got way too intense. I got way too intense. God only knows what Casey thought. I need to lighten up or I’ll freak him out.

  On the way back, I stop at my own suite. Audrey’s door is closed and music’s playing, so I grab my own pillows and head back to Casey’s room.

  “I come bearing gifts,” I say, my tone light and jokey. I put them on top of the ones we already had. “Should we try this again? I promise not to kiss you this time.”

  “You’re killing me, you know that, right?”

  “I…”

  He shakes his head and opens the computer. “Don’t mind me. I can handle it.”

  It’s happening again. I’m watching his beautiful, muscled body bend over the computer, and I forget to breathe. But I can’t let on or this is never going to work.

  I get on the bed and stretch out next to him so I’m between him and the wall. I’m confused by the pile of textbooks in the middle of the bed until he sets the laptop there. We lie back, a foot of space between us now, and he starts the movie. We’re both silent, watching, but I’m no less aware of him than I was before. It’s just more torturous now.

  After a few minutes of this he looks at me and gives me his glorious smile, his blue eyes vivid even in the dim light. “We can do this.”

  “Totally,” I say. “I can keep my hands off you, no problem.”

  “That’s a relief, because I’m not thinking about anything but this movie.”

  I laugh and look back at the laptop, relieved we’ve broken the tension.

  I wake up sometime in the night with Casey behind me, his arm draped over me, my ass tucked into his hips. My heart rate spikes at the thought of him looking at me, annoyed, before heaving a sigh and deciding not to wake me up.