Touching Melody (A Forever First Novel) (2 page)

“I won’t move, Tony,” I grit out. 

He looks at me when I say his name and a quiet tenderness softens his features. “Alright, here we go.”

The first seconds are white-hot pain so intense it takes my breath away. Which is exactly what I want. Because in the next second I close my eyes, inhale deeply, and sink into bliss.

2

Kyle

You’re So Lucky

Tonight’s been full of surprises. First, two girls invite me to be the third body in their
ménage a trois
.

“
Ménage a
what?” I ask, forking some chicken and sticking it in my mouth.

Evan, who’s sitting
next to me at the table, slaps me upside the head. “Don’t be an ass, Kyle.”

The one who introduced herself as Baby slides a hand under my t-shirt and says, “You
, me, and Beth. You know. A threesome?”

I set down my fork.
Lean back in the cafeteria chair. The room is buzzing with the excitement of new freshmen, and the stench of coffee and garlic bread stifles the air.

“Yeah, you know,”
Evan utters, smacking my knee with his.

I’ve known Evan my whole life. He’s my cousin. After my father died his parents took me in, and we’ve been close ever since. He’s an asshole. Likes his own space. We live in side-by-side apartments instead of with each other or ten minutes away with his
mom and dad. Which is cool by me, especially at times like these. Fresh meat. The whole reason we decided to have dinner on campus.

“Right.”
Of course I’ve heard of threesomes. It’s not like I’ve been living under a rock. But contrary to what most people think, namely Evan, it isn’t something I care about. Now that the opportunity has presented itself, I’m certainly interested.

Beth chimes in, “Baby is mine, but she likes guys and girls. We picked you together. You’re our number one choice.” She smiles, her eyes on Baby. Baby’s eyes and hands are all over me. I get the feeling Beth doesn’t want to be a part of this, but she’s doing it for Baby.

“You chose him because you haven’t feasted your eyes on this.” Evan raises his shirt and touches himself.

A group of girls, each carrying a tray of food, walks by. They squeal their approval
in unison for Evan’s nakedness.

I chuckle. Now he’ll be worse than unbearable.
The fact is Evan and I look alike—same dark hair, same square jaw. It’s probably because our fathers were brothers and they looked alike.

Beth
scoffs.

Baby laughs. “You’re cute, Evan, but I
—we,” she quickly glances at Beth, “want Kyle.”

Evan leans back in his
orange chair and snorts. “That’s because you don’t know what you’re missin', ladies.” He proceeds to stand and make obscene gestures.

I can’t help but laugh.
Evan’s an idiot, and he thinks way too highly of himself.

Baby and Beth get up from the table. They didn’t have any food. “
Later tonight? We’ll catch up with you at the Sigma Nu party?” Baby winks.

I can’t help but wonder why she calls herself Baby. She is nothing like one.

“We on?” Beth asks.

I clear my throat again. “Who am I to deny two pretty girls?”
Shrug unapologetically.

“Cool
,” Beth adds.

Baby squeals.

Beth puts her hand on Baby’s waist and they walk out of the cafeteria. It’s then that I notice they’re wearing matching outfits: Short skirts, socks that go to the middle of their thighs, and black shirts.

Evan whistles, following the girls with his eyes. “Holy shit, bro. You’re so lucky.”

I shrug and take another bite of chicken. 

He slaps me upside the head again. “Have you seen Pudgy
Mudgy?”

I drop my fork. Swallow the lump of chicken. It goes down hard. “Maddie,” I correct.

He snorts. “Whatever. She’s registered. A UBS freshman.”

I drop my hands to my thighs.

When we were younger Evan and some other kids called Maddie "Pudgy Mudgy." It annoyed the hell out of me then and it still does.

“I mean it. Don’t call her that.”

“Fine. It looks like she’s going to be taking English with Ms. Spears. How you gonna handle it?” He’s smirking, and I want to punch him.

“Great. That’s great,” I growl between gritted teeth.
Because it is great. I knew she graduated this year, and I hoped she would choose to go to college here. It’s stupid, but I’ve thought about Maddie a lot. Especially lately. She was my best friend. We hung out almost every day, up until her parents were killed.

All of these feelings… Shock? Happiness? Anger?
All three at once? I can’t even begin to come up with a word to describe what’s coursing through my body. I have so many questions. Like, why the hell did she stop talking to me? Why didn’t she respond to any of my letters? She listened to me moan about not having a mother, about what a prick my father was. All the shit he put me through. I stood up for her when other kids were jerks. How could she just stop being my friend?

“I’ve got to go.” Without waiting for a response, I run to my Jeep. Head back to my apartment.

Inside I walk to the piano. It’s thirty minutes of endless playing before I’m able to calm down. I’ve decided to stay cool. It’s been seven years.

3

Maddie

Are You Ready to Parr-
tayyyy

I have a thing for firsts. First day of school. First crush. First tattoo. Once, a long time ago, I made a promise to a boy that all of my firsts would be with him. But that was before…

“Are you ready to
parrr-tayyyy,” Gina hollers at a random group of girls crossing the dark soccer field next to us.

They speed up, seemingly desperate to be as far away as possible. I can’t blame them. I want to abandon half our duo.

Gina is my roommate, and so different from me I wonder if we’ll work out. It’s like the people handling the roommate selection process wanted to mess with my head. I can almost hear two evil senior girls cackling. “Ohhhh, she likes to read, she’s into classical music, and she likes puzzles? Ha ha.” They high-five each other and pull an application from a pile. “Let’s give her this one. No one wants this one either.” Bam! I get Gina.

The only music Gina listens to isn’t even music. It’s just some guy screaming. The band name is Black Veil Brides. I know this because she has posters of them all over her side of our dorm room. Plus, she plays their songs over, and over, and over. If that isn’t bad enough, she doesn’t own a single book
—at least she didn’t unpack any. Worst of all, she has no idea what Sudoku is. 

“It’s funny,” Gina says, bringing me out of my reverie. “I scare them,” she points at the scurrying girls and continues, “but they’re heading into the lion’s den.” She shakes her head. “Are you scared
, Maddelena?”

“A little,” I admit. The truth is, this whole place makes me nervous. I mean
, it's college and I’ve been here for two days. It blows my mind. I received a full ride scholarship for music. It’s hard to believe I’m not the little girl with the scared eyes finding her parents dead. I’ve gone on living, while they are buried in the earth.

Gina’s
features turn serious. “It’s okay to be scared. That means you’re growing.”

I’m shocked. Her words are deep. “Well, don’t be surprised if I wake one morning as a giant.”

She smirks. “Roommate is a comedian. You go.” She pats my shoulder awkwardly.

“I have my moments,” I say, eyeing her, hoping I haven’t crossed a
line. Gina looks scary. Shaggy long blond hair, the ends reach her waist but the top is spiked. Gobs of black eyeliner circle her blue eyes. A slinky black dress and black ankle boots. Her vibe doesn’t say, "Hey, I’m sweet." It’s more, "look at me wrong and I’ll kick your ass."

I wonder if the students crossing Asher Field with us are as
nervous to be here at the University of Bellam Springs as I am. Gina doesn’t seem to be, but it’s my first time living on my own, without my aunt and uncle. I’m guessing it’s a first for most of these students. And going to a party without parental supervision, and no curfew—another big first—at least for me.

A part of me wishes the boy I made the promises to when we were younger could share this first, but I quickly push the thought away. It’s been seven years since I’ve seen him. And that’s for the best.

I gingerly touch the tattoo below my belly button, flinching at the pain. Reveling in it. 

Definitely for the best
, I think.

Millions of stars are overhead. Darkness covers the wild wilderness the University sits on. Gina and I are staying in Irvine Hall, the tallest dorm on campus. It’s across the street from the cafeteria. The smell of overcooked food swirls in the air, as does a feeling of exhilaration.

“We don’t have to go, you know. I’ve got—” I begin, but Gina interrupts.

“Don’t even try it, Maddelena Martin. We’re going to this party, and I demand you have fun.
"

“It’s Maddie,” I
say, correcting her for probably the twentieth time. I’ve always hated my name. It’s too long and seems pretentions. Plus, at almost every piano recital, the person announcing me gets it wrong.
Mad. Elle. Ayy. Na.
It doesn’t seem difficult, but then I’ve lived with it for eighteen years. “Why do you care if I have fun?” I ask.

She looks like I slapped her but recovers quickly. It’s a fair enough question. Two days ago I didn’t know she existed. “Fine. I’ll call you Maddie as long as you do two couch shots at this party. Deal?” She punches my arm.

I rub the spot she hit, worried. I have no idea what
couch shots
are, but after a moment’s pause I agree. “I guess.” I try to smile. My lips aren’t sure how it works, so I give up.

Gina doesn’t seem to notice my almost smile as she gives me a quick once over. “And next time we go out, you have to let me do your hair and makeup. You look like you don’t give a damn what the boys think. Those jeans. Really? They’re like two sizes too big.”

I blush and am thankful she can’t see my embarrassment in the dark. Casually I glance at my clothes:
slightly
baggy jeans hanging off my bony hips, tan ballet flats, and a pink t-shirt. “What do you mean? This outfit is… awesome,” I say back, knowing it isn’t, but not caring.

I have a serious infatuation with shoes, not fashion.
All I own are ballet flats, but shoes are how I study people, the world.

She huffs. “Did you even brush your hair?”

I’m not one for confrontation, but Gina is getting on my nerves. “Yes, I brushed my hair,” I say, discreetly running a hand through my hair. “Rude much?”

Her face falls.
“Crap, I’m sorry. My therapist says I need to work on thinking about what I say before I say it.” 

She sees a therapist? Good to know. Maybe we do have something in common. “No problem,” I say.

We walk in silence until we’re across the street from the frat house. People are all over the lawn, on the wide wrap-around porch, and hanging out the second and third story windows. Everyone appears to be having fun. A part of me longs to let go, to be carefree. To “live a little.” That’s what my aunt told me to do when she dropped me off.