First Time for Everything Read online

  She shook her head at me. “Well, at least you’re honest. Where are you and Trish going?”

  Shrugging, I propped my chin up on my hand. “Dunno. She didn’t say.” I gave her a shrewd look. “You seem awfully calm about all this?”

  “That you’re a lesbian or that you’re going out on your first date at fourteen when your dad and I both told you that dating wouldn’t be starting until you were at least fifteen?”

  “Oops.” I’d forgotten about that little rule in my excitement about tonight. Honestly, when they’d set that up last year, I hadn’t even been paying all that much attention. Back then I’d thought guys were weird, and I didn’t have any intention of dating them even though all my friends were jumping on them like crazy. Sometimes I thought I was the last virgin in my class, the way the other girls threw themselves at the guys. I’d thought I was a freak. Turns out I just didn’t like guys. Go figure.

  My mom shook her head and went back to straightening out the dresses she’d laid out for me on my bed. “You’re just lucky it’s Trish. Anyone else and I’d be telling you no right now.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, lucky me.”

  “How about this one? You look so pretty in it.” She held up a gray sweater dress that had flecks of silver running through it. I had tights and boots that would coordinate pretty well. I liked it, and it was one of my favorite dresses, so I gave her a little nod.

  Appearing satisfied with her choice, my mom smiled at me and put the other dresses away. “Good. It shows off your curves.”

  I was blushing fiercely before she’d even finished speaking. “I don’t have curves,” I grumbled, instantly embarrassed by what she’d said. Secretly I wished she was right, though. Maybe if I actually had some, then Trish wouldn’t be talking about this date being just about practice.

  I’d kind of held out for her, not because I’d ever suspected she was bi, but because ever since I’d started liking girls and questioning that part of myself, I’d liked her. She’s my best friend. It was hard not to think about her like that since we were already so close.

  “Go get ready. You’re running out of time,” my mom reminded me.

  I hurried over to my bathroom and changed clothes. I stepped out twenty minutes later dressed and ready to go, though I was still fiddling with my skirt. My mom came back in my room as I was coming out of the bathroom. I hadn’t even heard her leave while I was in there.

  “Sit. You need some makeup. It’ll help your eyes pop.”

  I sat where she patted my bed and pressed my palms together on my lap. “You never let me wear any before.”

  She hesitated, and I saw her lips tighten before she came at me with a tiny eye shadow brush that had pale gold powder on the end of it. “First dates are important. Now close your eyes. This can be tricky, and I want it to be perfect for your special night.”

  I closed my eyes like she’d said and waited.

  “Though I had thought I would be getting you ready for your first date with a boy someday….”

  I flinched even though I was pretty sure she hadn’t meant anything mean by her words. I tried not to open my eyes to look at her face. “Are you mad?”

  I dreaded her answer but had to know anyway.

  “Are you happy?” She countered my question with another of her own.

  I thought about it as she ran a brush over my cheeks, putting something powdery on them. “I think I am,” I said as she told me to open my eyes and look up at her.

  My mom tilted my chin up at her. “Then so am I.”

  “You look beautiful, baby.”

  I smiled over at my dad. “Thanks, Daddy.”

  “Of course she does.”

  My dad stepped closer and kissed my mom on the cheek before looking at me again. “Nervous about tonight?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Very.”

  He came over and kissed the top of my head. “You’ll be just fine. We like Trish, and it’s always best to be friends first.”

  I smiled and tried to relax. “Thanks. I hope you’re right.”

  The doorbell rang, and I got to my feet. “That’ll be Trish.”

  “Have fun, sweetie.”

  I waved to my parents and headed downstairs. I heard them go to the top of the stairs as I opened the door.

  “Hey,” I said, smiling at Trish.

  She hugged me and surprised me with my first kiss on the cheek. “I have a confession to make.”

  “Oh?”

  Trish nodded. “I don’t really want to have this be a pretend date. I just said that so that you’d come. I want a real date with my best friend. Please don’t say no.”

  “Yes,” I said instantly as I took her hand, and we walked out of my house and down to our favorite little coffee spot a few blocks away. We’d held hands plenty of times before, but this was different. We were holding hands on a date. I couldn’t help smiling.

  “You look pretty, Cassie,” she said as we crossed the street and went into the coffee shop.

  “Thanks. You helped me pick this dress out.” I thought she’d want to stop holding my hand when we went in, but she didn’t let me go, and so I stood there in line next to Trish with my hand in hers as she bopped to the light rock music coming through the speakers. Someone was looking at us, a man older than my parents, and I looked away.

  “Ew. Creepy,” Trish said as we moved forward in the line. We were still three people away from ordering.

  “Huh?” I asked her, turning to look up at her.

  She nodded over my shoulder. “Weird guy staring at you. Guh. Ew. Just no.” She shivered, and I smiled at her.

  “Could be he disapproves.”

  I saw a familiar look come over her and knew it meant trouble. That look had been responsible for me getting my belly button pierced, with a fake ID and without my mom’s permission. Trish had ended up with a small rose tattoo on her inner wrist. Her dad had gone ballistic. I thought she looked cool with it.

  She put an arm around my shoulders and leaned in close. She was a few inches taller than me, so it wasn’t all that hard. I froze, my breath coming in quick bursts as she looked over my shoulder, probably at the guy. I couldn’t be sure. But she was showing off, and even though I knew now that this was a real date, I kinda minded being a prop for her to rub this in some guy’s face.

  “Good. He’s done looking. I think he choked on his coffee. Serves him right.”

  She started to pull away, but I grabbed the bottom of her shirt, not letting her go. She looked down at me, and her short black hair ran over my forehead. I didn’t know what I wanted, but she made the decision for both of us as she leaned down and kissed me. I nearly lost my balance, but she just held me tighter, and oh my God we were kissing—crazy kissing in the middle of our favorite coffee shop and my arms went around her waist and I could feel her tongue on my teeth and she put her other arm around me and I could taste her grape lip balm and all I could think was that I was kissing Trish and holy crap this was awesome and could we please do this for the next few hours.

  But then someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I pulled away long enough to look up at whoever had interrupted us. I felt myself growing warm and felt other people watching us and wow that was embarrassing.

  Trish didn’t move her arms from around my shoulders. “What’d you want?” she demanded of the woman, sounding grumpy. I didn’t blame her. I hadn’t wanted to stop either.

  The woman gave us both a smile. “You two are up.” She gave us a little wink, and my cheeks got even warmer, and Trish laughed as the woman walked away. We went up to the counter with her arm still hanging loosely around my shoulders. I would have looked really strange putting my hand on her shoulder, so I left one of my arms around her lower back instead.

  “Soy hot chocolate with whip and cinnamon for me. Cassie, your usual?” Trish asked me.

  I glanced up at the extensive menu but went back to my regular drink anyway. “Yeah. I think so.”

  Trish nodded. “Hot chai tea latt
e, with whole milk and whip.”

  I let go of her long enough to go for my wallet in the little purse I’d remembered to bring, even though I rarely used one, but by the time I was pulling it out, she already had some cash laid out on the counter in front of us. It was enough to cover both our drinks, and I frowned. “I could have got mine.”

  She giggled. “This is a date. Remember? You can get the next one.”

  My mouth fell open at the idea of dating her again. Sure, since we were best friends I knew I’d see her again. And probably tomorrow too. There wasn’t often a day we didn’t spend together. But another date was a lot different than just hanging out together at my house or hers or going to the mall or a park or something like we normally did. This was massive, and I had to be poked to go to a table when our drinks were up.

  We sat down in the corner by the fireplace. They were coveted spots, and we rushed to grab them as two other people left. They were another couple. Which made us a couple. I wanted to squeal.

  I sat down and instantly put my feet up on the ottoman. Trish sat across from me in the other chair and did just as I had. My boots were next to her flats, and she flopped her shoes against mine. I smiled at her as I sipped my chai tea.

  “Did you tell your mom about being a lesbian yet?” Trish asked me.

  I nodded and put my tea onto the little table beside the chair. “Yeah. At dinner.”

  “How’d she take it?”

  I shrugged. “Seemed pretty good. I guess. Didn’t yell at me, at least. And she did my makeup.”

  Trish grinned at me. “Good thing. You kind of suck at it.”

  “Yeah, I do,” I quickly said, agreeing with her. “Dad was okay too. I think it’ll be okay, though I’m pretty sure they’re shocked. Yours?”

  Her smile lost a little bit of its light. “Mine think the liking girls part is a phase. It helps that I still like guys. But I like girls more than guys. So….” She shrugged a little and closed her eyes as she took a long drink of her hot chocolate.

  I pressed my lips together. “You could come stay with us. I mean, if it didn’t go great sometime.” Trish staying over had never been a big deal for my parents, and I couldn’t see it being any different now. “Sleepovers every night.”

  She giggled and nodded at me. “Yeah. Popcorn, chocolate, and bad movies.”

  “My movies aren’t all bad,” I said in defense of my extensive collection.

  “Yeah, whatever.” She was teasing me, and we shared a smile.

  We were quiet for a few minutes as I looked around at the other people. Most had lost interest in us. A little girl was staring, but she was, like, four or something, so whatever. I gave her a wave to see what she’d do, and she ran behind her mom. Kids were weird. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight,” Trish said, pulling my attention back to her.

  “Thanks for asking me.” I meant it, and she smiled at me.

  CAITLIN RICCI was fortunate growing up to be surrounded by family and teachers who encouraged her love of reading. She has always been a voracious reader and that love of the written word easily morphed into a passion for writing. If she isn’t writing, she can usually be found studying as she works toward her counseling degree. She comes from a military family, and the men and women of the armed forces are close to her heart. She also enjoys gardening, hiking, and horseback riding in the Colorado Rockies where she calls home with her wonderful fiancé and their two dogs. Her belief that there is no one true path to happily ever after runs deeply through all of her stories.

  http://www.CaitlinRicci.com

  A WARRIOR FROM A DIFFERENT TRIBE

  S.A. GARCIA

  JOE GLANCED to the right, where a white gravel road wove a flat ribbon across the fields. It shimmered in the heat, leading to a dead end at the lake. Overhead, buzzards circled around something tasty lying below their sky realm. This wretched heat wave had killed too many critters. Across the county streams dried up, the plants died off, and the crops suffered no matter how much water they received. Down the road, Mr. Rusty’s cornfield looked like a spiny stalk forest, pale and depleted. Joe half expected the corn to suddenly produce popcorn.

  Three weeks of near 100-degree heat had taken a toll on everything and everyone. The heat felt like a depressing blanket spreading across the land. Gross.

  Despite the heat, Joe rode his bike too fast, cutting through the hot air. If the old bike’s chain decided to fall off, he’d take a nasty tumble, much like what had happened last summer when he broke his arm.

  Today riding too fast felt good. The damned hot air didn’t cool him off, but at least it moved the sweat on his face, pushing the moisture away from dripping in his eyes. His black ponytail whipped behind him, tugging in his wake. He imagined laughing heat demons yanking him backward to the dry ground.

  Whoa. Joe sucked in a centering breath. A wave of heat-induced dizziness encouraged him to reduce his speed. If he wiped out, he’d miss out on the point of this visit. Joe refused to let the heat stop him from hooking up with Ed during his lunch break. Ed claimed Joe’s kisses gave him energy. Yeah, Ed always said crazy stuff, but Joe sensed Ed meant his words.

  Joe wished he could afford a car. In an attempt to impress his parents, once he turned fifteen and a half, he had suffered through driver’s education and scored his learner’s permit. Uncle Jasper had helped Joe pass the driver’s test. Unfortunately, coaxing his parents into loaning Joe money for a used car turned into a useless quest. He didn’t understand their opposition. His mom earned plenty working as director of tourism for the Seminole Nation. His dad, known to everyone as Big Joe, had a senior technical engineer position that brought in serious money. Monitoring the Oklahoma oil fields for Northman Oil Company was a huge responsibility.

  For some reason, his parents still refused his pleas for a car loan. Okay, he knew they put aside money for his college education. He loved them for their support, for their belief in him. Still, what guy didn’t want a car?

  He squinted as dust caught in his right eye. “Damn!” If some texting asshole hit him while Joe biked along the hot county highway, his parents would change their attitude.

  Joe sighed as he blinked out the dust. This ugly hot weather created ornery thoughts. He would never want his parents to suffer over him. Living out in the sticks with his grandpa wasn’t pure torture, but Joe thought it came close.

  Quick remorse kicked his thoughts. Why did he act cranky? He loved Grandpa Sam, he truly did, but he couldn’t help feeling resentful of babysitting the prone-to-wandering old man. Yeah, his parents compensated Joe for his time, but still, how embarrassing to be a, well, grandpa-sitter. Joe had applied for a well-paying summer job as a math tutor, but his parents had pleaded for him to watch Grandpa Sam this summer. He gave in. He saw how Grandpa Sam had declined over the past four years. At least his dad’s job with Northman gave him leeway to pick where to live in Oklahoma. Hello, Wewoka, home to the Seminole Nation.

  Joe frowned. When Grandpa Sam started muttering to himself in Mvskoke, the family knew he had started to slip away. Still, when Grandpa Sam remained alert, he caused plenty of trouble speaking English. He bemoaned the lost ways, claiming the Seminole tribe had turned into a white man’s puppy. He hated the gambling, the catering to the tourists. He hated the Hard Rock Café, even if he had never stepped inside one. Grandpa especially hated how his educated daughter-in-law worked with the Seminole Nation’s tourist board to encourage visitors. The one time Joe saw his dad grow super angry was when Grandpa Sam made a nasty remark about his mom’s job. Joe gave her high marks for keeping her cool during Grandpa’s pointed commentaries.

  The main problem was Grandpa Sam wanted to return to Florida, to the Seminole’s home base. Grandpa Sam had been born in the Everglades. He had chosen to travel to Oklahoma, to leave his family, although no one spoke about why he left to resettle here when he obviously wanted to live in Florida.

  Of course Joe had asked his dad, who had explained that Dr. Juarez thought Grandpa Sam suffer
ed from a mild form of dementia. When he grew upset, Grandpa Sam’s thoughts dropped into his past. He sought the past by wandering off.

  At least once a day, Grandpa Sam declared he belonged in Florida, deep in the Everglades. Over the years Dad had tried to locate any remaining relatives, but no one remained from Grandpa Sam’s Florida-based family.

  When Grandpa Sam wandered, surprise—he always walked southeast.

  As he shook his head, Joe reached the four-lane road leading into Wewoka. In a way, he understood Grandpa Sam. They both wanted to be somewhere else. Poor Grandpa Sam wanted to move back to his memories. Seventeen-year-old Joe wanted to move forward, far away from the desolate Oklahoma nothingness. Joe hadn’t minded it when they first moved here, but as he grew older, the place seemed smaller.

  Well, until last year. Now one major detail held him back from running to the nearest large city.

  Joe smiled. He planned to make Ed change his mind about not leaving home.

  Once on the well-paved blacktop, Joe pedaled with confident speed. Wewoka’s low profile appeared through the summer haze, creating a smudgy dark patch on the hot horizon.

  He raced past a stand of slender willows nodding along a sluggish creek. Imagine, willow could cure a headache. Grandpa Sam had taught Joe about herbs and their power. Joe loved learning about the herbs, although he hated admitting it to anyone. Grandpa Sam seemed happy to pass along his special knowledge.

  Back in the day, Grandpa Sam used to be a respected medicine man. He still was, but lately he didn’t encourage people to seek him out. He still grew weird herbs in the backyard like black cohosh, plantains, yarrow, and horsetail. Without the proper harvesting rituals, Grandpa warned, the herbs would lose their potencies, which meant no one else touched them. Grandpa took his own medicine, so to speak; he brewed up tinctures to drink every day. There must be something special in those brews. Grandpa might be eighty, but he could work just as hard as Big Joe.

  A smile curved Joe’s lips. If Grandpa Sam knew why Joe liked hanging out at the Wewoka Stop ’n’ Sav, he’d probably invoke some crazy old Seminole curse on Joe.