First Time for Everything (25 page)

BOOK: First Time for Everything
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“You didn’t choose them,” Logan supplied.

“No, not really.” Jason scrubbed a hand over his face. “This is making me sound like a complete asshole.”

This time it was Logan who reached across the table to take Jason’s hand in his. “I don’t think it does, but even if it did, I still wouldn’t think you were an asshole.”

Jason squeezed his hand and then brought it to his lips, brushing them over Logan’s knuckles. Logan let out a breath, flushed, and was once again thankful it wouldn’t show. Jason knew the effect he was having on Logan, though, if the smirk was anything to go by.

Jason held his gaze until their waitress came back, clearing her throat and taking their dishes, asking if they needed anything else.

“Dessert?” Jason asked, not letting go of his hand.

“I’m kind of full. How about we just get out of here.”

Jason nodded. “We could go for a walk,” he suggested.

Logan smiled. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

The waitress cleared her throat again. Jason turned to her and asked for their check. She walked off in a huff.

“Well, there goes her tip,” Jason muttered. Logan had to agree. He didn’t know what her problem was, though he had his suspicions. They couldn’t be the only couple she had ever served who got cuddly with each other. She’d probably seen worse than the gazing they had been doing.

It didn’t matter. Well, it did matter, but it wasn’t something he wanted to deal with right now. He just wanted to enjoy his night with Jason. Besides, you couldn’t change stupid.

The waitress came back with their check. Jason paid and Logan let him. Jason was the one who had asked him out for tonight. Logan would pay the next time they went out, which would hopefully be soon.

Jason drove them to the lake. They parked and started walking the path around it. The weather was cool without being chilly. The moon was full, and there weren’t any clouds in sight. It was a nice night out for a walk, and it was the perfect way to end the evening. Logan just didn’t want it to end.

Jason linked his fingers with Logan’s and smiled shyly at him. Logan grinned and decided to make sure there would be a second date. “So, would you like to catch a movie with me tomorrow night?” Logan laughed at himself. He had tried to go for casual and was pretty sure he had failed. “Wow, I sound way too eager, and that was not at all as smooth as I was hoping.”

Jason laughed with him. “It’s okay. I was thinking of asking you out for tomorrow night too. And I haven’t exactly been Mr. Smooth myself tonight either.”

Logan offered a small smile. “Does that mean you’ll go with me to the movies tomorrow night?”

Jason brought Logan’s hand up to his mouth and kissed it. “Oh yeah. Definitely. How could I say no to getting you alone in a dark theater?”

Logan bit his lower lip, trying to hold back a smile, but failing miserably. It was a nice thought, and he certainly felt the same way.

When they were back where they had started their walk, they glanced at each other, and without a word, they decided to walk the path again, prolonging their date just a little longer.

Along the way, Jason started humming under his breath. Logan strained to hear him, but he soon picked out the tune.

“Katy Perry?” he asked.

Jason flushed, but started singing instead of just humming. Logan laughed and joined the singing. They got funny looks from other people along the path—they were all here to exercise—but he didn’t care, and it didn’t seem like Jason did either. Jason’s face was red, but he was smiling as he sang.

Back at the car, Jason pushed Logan up against it. Instead of the kiss he thought might be coming, Jason wrapped his arms around Logan. He wound his own around Jason as Jason buried his face in Logan’s neck. He stroked Jason’s back gently. Other than that, they didn’t move for a few minutes.

Jason pulled his head back, but kept his arms wrapped around Logan. “Sorry. I just… I just really like you, and I’m really happy you’re here with me.” Jason smiled shyly and then rested his head on Logan’s shoulder, holding him even more closely than before.

Logan’s heart pounded. “It wasn’t like I was complaining. This is nice.”

Jason let out a choked laugh. “You know, I’ve actually been wanting to do this for a while. I was too scared to say anything. The school project really worked to my advantage.”

Logan laughed and cupped the back of Jason’s neck, leaning in closer to whisper in Jason’s ear. “I’m really glad that things worked out the way they did, then.”

Jason shuddered and sighed. He pulled away, a smile on his face. They got into the car, and Jason drove Logan home. Sooner than Logan would have liked, they were pulling up to his house. He was surprised when Jason actually turned off the car.

“Are you walking me to the front door?” Logan couldn’t keep the shock out of his voice.

Jason shrugged. “Figured I’d make it a proper date. Or is that too much?” Jason looked worried, like he had somehow, with this one gesture, screwed up the entire date. It was adorable.

“It’s okay. I like it.” And he did. He liked the idea of being courted and wooed. It wasn’t something he was quite ready to tell Jason, but he figured Jason would probably figure it out on his own anyway. And probably pretty quickly.

They both got out of the car and walked the short distance to Logan’s front porch.

“Thanks for dinner.” Logan figured he would start talking so they could hopefully avoid standing there looking at each other awkwardly.

“It was my pleasure.” Jason was smiling at him. He looked bashful. Logan didn’t think he would ever tire of seeing that.

“I really had a good time.”

Jason grinned. “That’s good. I was worried that I would screw this up completely.”

“How could you possibly have screwed up as badly as you seemed to think you would?”

Jason shrugged and didn’t answer. Logan managed to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “Well, I really did have a good time. I wish we didn’t have to say good night already.”

“But at least we have tomorrow night now.”

“That we do,” Logan murmured.

Jason leaned in. Logan once again thought he was going to be kissed, and he was, but not where he was expecting. Jason brushed his lips against Logan’s cheek. Logan’s breath caught, and there was a definite fluttering in his stomach. His brain seemed to stop functioning, and words failed him. Jason left him standing there, whistling his way back to his car, and Logan could only watch as Jason drove off into the night.

Though he didn’t have much experience with dating, Logan didn’t see how a first date could have gone any better than that. He didn’t bother fighting the smile as he walked into his house, bracing himself for the barrage of questions he knew was coming. He would be thrilled to tell them about how wonderful his date had gone.

The only problem Logan had now was how long he had to wait until he saw Jason again the following night. At least a dark theater promised more than just a kiss on his cheek.

N
ICOLE
M
C
C
ORMICK
lives in Austin with her husband and two rascally kitties. She typically writes m/m romance, but occasionally other stuff manages to sneak in. When she’s not writing, she’s either reading or knitting. If it’s March, you can find her at the rodeo. She’ll be the one wearing the large unicorn necklace.

S
TEP
BY
S
TEP

E
MILY
M
ORETON

 

 

 

“H
EY
, J
OHN
,”
a voice called before Jen had even stepped all the way into the corridor.

She ignored it, focusing on the art room door.
Two hundred steps
. She counted them off as she took them.

“John. Hey, John—what, man, you’re too good to talk to me now? Jo-hn.”

Jen didn’t recognize the voice well enough to pick out who it was, only that it was a familiar male voice. Probably not someone from one of her classes.
One hundred fifty steps
.

Most of the kids crowding the corridor in the last few minutes of lunch didn’t even look up; she didn’t dress feminine enough for most of them to notice at a glance that she wasn’t a boy. Even now she wasn’t trying anymore to make them think that. That made it easier to just keep walking. One person wasn’t a threat, not so close to safety.
One hundred steps
.

“Why don’t you come to practice, John?” Whoever it was had followed her. She didn’t turn to see. It didn’t really matter anymore who was calling out. “Football team could always use more guys, John.”

Jen held tighter to the books in her arms and crossed the fingers of her left hand that Ms. Carter wouldn’t have locked the door. She did that, sometimes, if she’d gone out for lunch, and then Jen would have to turn around and see who was following her.

“John, talk to me, John. Come on, man….”

Jen’s hand wrapped around the door handle, and then she was inside, the door closing behind her, blocking off the noise of the corridor and the voice. For just a second, she let her hands tremble, not sure if it was relief or fear. Maybe both.

Ms. Carter was in the corner, crouched over a box of blank canvases, but she straightened up when she saw Jen. “You’re early.”

Jen put her things down on the front row and settled her pencil case neatly on top of her books. “Is that okay?”

“That’s always okay.” Ms. Carter put the stack of canvases on her desk and came to sit on the other side of the bench. “How are you?”

Jen shrugged. “Just some guy saying stuff. Calling me by my old name. It’s nothing.”

“Do you know who it was?” Ms. Carter asked, just like she always did.

Jen shook her head, and Ms. Carter sighed.

“I’ll talk to Mr. Sheppard again. He can talk to the senior class again.”

Jen wasn’t sure it was really doing any good anymore, but Ms. Carter always offered, and Mr. Sheppard, the principal, always did it. He always did it properly as well—he’d talked to Jen some when she’d come out as trans at the start of her senior year, and he never made her feel like she was causing him trouble, even though she knew she was.

“Thank you,” she said.

“I wish I could do more,” Ms. Carter said, frowning.

Jen shrugged, uncomfortable. “Can I sketch something before everyone else comes?”

Ms. Carter smiled, still looking sad, and got up. “What do you want to sketch? I can put a still life together for you, or you can choose.”

Jen looked around the art room, hoping to spot something she hadn’t noticed before. Ms. Carter had started at the school the same year Jen had, but the art room looked like she’d been there forever, full of odd things for people to sketch, with the walls covered in pictures from other students and prints of famous paintings.

Jen didn’t see anything new, but something still caught her eye. “The record player.”

Ms. Carter laughed. “Of course. Do you want a record on?”

Jen nodded, already pulling her sketch pad out from her books. Ms. Carter always chose the music—she said the records for the old gramophone had been her mom’s, and she didn’t want to risk anyone breaking them—and this time she put on something classical, slow and kind of sleepy. Jen liked it; it went with the record player and the room, and the way Ms. Carter always dressed in long skirts and pretty tops like someone from the 1960s, even though she wasn’t much older than Jen.

Jen started on the gramophone’s big horn and wished, not for the first time, that she could just stay in the art room until she graduated.

 

 

C
AM
WAS
waiting outside the art room when class finished, and he only hesitated a tiny bit before knocking his shoulder against hers, like he used to do before. Jen pushed her hair out of her eyes and grinned back at him, still so pleased to have him there.

“Learn anything in French?” she asked, falling into step with him as they shoved their way through the other kids.

Cam said something in French that Jen didn’t understand at all. “Draw any naked people?”

“Nope.” Jen flipped open her sketch pad and showed him the drawing she’d done of the gramophone. She’d added a teapot and teacup, even though there weren’t any in reality, and then drawn a stream of notes dancing out of the horn and away into the air.

“That’s awesome. I’d kill to be that good at something, man.” Cam drew a sharp breath, and Jen braced herself. “Um, sorry. Jen. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” They had this conversation all the time, and Cam never stopped apologizing, or calling her man. She guessed it was probably habit; they’d known each other since they were in kindergarten, and she kind of liked it. “It doesn’t matter when you do it. Honest.”

Whatever Cam was going to say, he couldn’t, because someone bumped into her, knocking her sideways into him. She stumbled, trying to hold on to her books and not fall over, and Cam caught her arm, pulling her roughly back onto her feet.

“What the hell?” he demanded before she could say anything.

“Oops.” Jen resisted the urge to sigh, because she knew that voice. Todd lived down the street from her, and he’d been the worst by a mile since she came out. “Sorry, faggot.”

Jen felt herself flush and figured Cam was as well. It was Todd’s favorite insult, ever since the first time he’d used it, and she’d said, “I’m not—what?” like an idiot, while Cam didn’t say anything.

Todd turned specially to sneer at her—way to make her feel special. “That’s what it means, right? A boy who likes other boys, and everyone knows you like him. I bet you love getting on your knees to suck him off. Or, wait, does he do you? John?”

Jen felt her hands curl into fists and forced herself not to hit him. Not that she couldn’t probably knock him out, but she’d promised not to get into any more fights at school, after Marcus’s parents had threatened to sue when she sent him home with a black eye. It was still easier than looking at Cam when people said stuff like that about them, which was a new and unwelcome part of being out and one the two of them definitely didn’t talk about.

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