Free Firsts by Laurie Elizabeth Flynn

which she looks more disgusted by than anything.
    “Ouch,” I say, pointing out a bloody patch of skin on Charlie’s calf muscle. “That looks like it hurts.”
    Charlie shrugs. “That Ridgewood guy was an asshole. I’ll make sure he gets what he has coming to him.” The sun glints in his eyes. He’s smiling, but I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
    I pull my cardigan tightly around my shoulders, aware of a chill building at the base of my spine. Faye drapes her arm around my neck like we have been friends for years, not one day.
    “So, which one’s your boyfriend?” she says. “Please, tell me it’s that young Antonio Banderas over there who keeps checking you out.”
    I follow her gaze to the edge of the field, where a guy with black curly hair is indeed staring in our direction. When I meet his eyes, he doesn’t look away, so I do. I don’t like when guys stare like that. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, I wonder exactly how much they know.
    “I don’t have a boyfriend,” I tell her.
    “Not even Chemistry Boy?”
    “Nope.”
    “Come on. No lab partner is that upset to move desks. Something must be going on.”
    I grit my teeth. “I said no. He’s just some guy who happened to sit beside me.”
    She doesn’t take the hint. “Come on. So he’s not an ex? A fling? Not even a drunken mistake?”
    I shake my head. “None of the above. Just a chemistry partner, and I did the work anyway.”
    In other words, end of story.
    She bites her lip. “Well, want to grab a bite to eat? I’m starving.” She stretches her arms over her head, revealing an expanse of flat tanned stomach. Her belly button is pierced. I try not to notice, just like I try not to notice the beginning—or end—of a tattoo snaking out of her waistband when she turns around. But I guess I don’t do a very good job of not noticing.
    “I made some bad decisions the summer before ninth grade,” she says with a smirk. “My mom wanted to kill me.”
    I force a smile, but the effort leaves my face strained. I clutch my own stomach instinctively. Faye isn’t the only one who made bad decisions the summer before ninth grade. Except the bad decisions she made are ones Kim would have gotten on board with. I remember my first day of tenth grade, which Kim wanted to commemorate with mother-daughter eyebrow rings. That was the month she dated the drummer in some band and wanted to seem edgier. Thankfully, we never went through with it.
    Somehow I don’t think Kim would agree with my bad decisions, and I’ll never give her a chance to know about them.
    I tell Faye I’m not feeling so well and head to the parking lot. I don’t know why she has decided to be friends with me, out of all the people at Milton. She’d fit right in with the bubbly-perky-C-cup-plus cheerleaders, or the preppies, or even the drama geeks. Anybody but me. Pick someone else , I want to scream. I’m damaged goods .
    All I want to do is go home and be alone. Except when I get to my Jeep, somebody is waiting there for me. The curly-haired guy from the soccer game, the one who was staring at me.
    “You should be driving a faster car,” he says, pushing his foot against the tire of my Jeep. “How about a ride?”
    “You should be taking the bus home,” I say, crossing my arms. “I’m not a carpool service. Especially for people I don’t know.”
    He leans in. I reach into my purse for my keys, unsure whether I’ll use them to open my car door or stab him in the eyeball.
    “I did not mean that kind of ride,” he says, his thick accent punctuated with a nervous giggle. “I am sorry. Forgive my bad joke.”
    “What is it you want?” I say, thinking I might already know. “Because you’re going to have to be more specific.”
    “I want to give you my virginity,” he says. “If you’ll take it.”
    I almost break out laughing. He says it so casually, like he’s offering me some kind of gift. Except I don’t laugh, because for some people