“I just didn’t expect him to be so big—” she continues, and I thank God when my phone rings in my pocket.
“Hello?” I answer, walking away from Danica before she can notice the pallor that’s spread across my face. I listen to Luke tell me about some new achievement he got in Deadzone Five, and I reel from the realization that Danica was Mike’s first, and she was his.
Even though I wasn’t in love with Will, I’ll never forget the way the barn smelled of freshly cut hay that night, how nervous he looked as he tore open the condom, the quiet way he told me that he thought I was the most beautiful girl in school.
Just like Mike will never forget how beautiful Danica looked in that hotel room, how he struggled with the ties of her dress, how it felt to be inside her—and he loved her, so the memory will mean so much more to him. Fifty years from now, he’ll still carry it with him.
They were each other’s first loves, first times, first heartbreaks. And I can’t help feeling like an intruder as I fall asleep that night, imagining the way he loved her.
“Did you know Mike and Danica lost their virginities to each other?” I ask Rowan and Dee on Wednesday afternoon at the campus coffee shop. I’ve spent the past three days trying not to think about it . . . and then I’ve thought about it, and thought about it, and thought about it.
“Ew,” Dee says, her face scrunched with disgust. She sets her coffee down and pushes it all the way to the other side of the table.
“How do you know?” Rowan asks, and when I don’t answer, Dee looks back and forth between us before pinning her eyes on me.
“Did Danica tell you that?”
I worry my lip, and Dee growls.
“Hailey, what did I tell you about listening to her? That girl is poison. Poison. If you start buying into her lies—”
“She wasn’t lying though,” I interrupt in defense of my cousin, and the corners of Dee’s mouth turn down. Eventually, Rowan shakes her head.
“It doesn’t matter if she was lying or telling the truth, Hailey. You know she’s just telling you this stuff to get under your skin.”
I stare down at my coffee thermos, because I’m not so sure. She was gossiping with me like we had never stopped being friends, like we were just two roommates talking about boys. I remember her easy laugh and her bright eyes, and I grip the thermos until the heat bites into my palms. “He’ll never forget her,” I say, and when I look up at Rowan, her blue-jean eyes are filled with sympathy.
“Of course he won’t. She was his first love.”
“Do you know what I remember about my first time?” Dee cuts in, finally pulling her coffee mug back to her side of the table. “I remember he lasted about two seconds, and it was horrible.” She grabs a sugar packet from a container at the center of the table and begins shaking it violently. “It was like he didn’t realize that water is required to go down a waterslide. The fucker just dove right in. I know your first time is supposed to hurt, but I swear to God, I had first-degree vagina burn.”
Rowan chokes on her coffee as she laughs, trying not to spit it out, and I can’t help cracking a smile.
Dee empties the sugar into her coffee and stirs it with a tiny straw. “Everyone’s first time is horrible. I mean, Ro’s was apparently pretty nice, aside from the whole being impaled on Adam’s Viking-sized cock thing.”
Rowan laughs harder and smacks Dee’s arm, and my smile widens as I watch them together.
“I bet Mike only lasted two pumps,” Dee continues. “Three, tops. Guys never set any endurance records their first times. I bet Danica even bitched him out about it afterward, because you know how she is.”
I smile until it becomes too difficult to keep it on my face. “You don’t think I’m a bad person for coming between them?” I ask, and Dee’s perfect eyebrows slam together.
“Come here,” she says, curling her finger to motion for me to lean across the table.
“Why?” I ask as I start leaning in. Do I have something on my face?
“Because clearly you need some sense slapped into you.”
Rowan grabs Dee’s arm out of the air, and I jump wide-eyed back into my chair.
“Hailey,” Rowan says, releasing Dee’s arm when I’m out of slapping range. “This is exactly what we’ve been trying to warn you about. Danica is going to do whatever she can to come between you and Mike. He didn’t break up with her because of you—he broke up with her because she’s horrible. She treated him like garbage. I mean, come on. Even if he wasn’t with you, would you really want him with her?”
I’m shaking my head before I even realize it. “No.”
“Right. Because you love him.” Rowan smiles. “You want him to be happy.”
I nod, and she reaches across the table to squeeze my hand.
“You make him happy. He loves you. It doesn’t matter who his first was, because she’s not his only. You could be his last, and the last is the one that counts.”
“Damn, Ro,” Dee says, relaxing in her chair. “That was beautiful.”
Rowan smiles at me and lets go of my hand. “Do you feel better, Hailey?”
I nod, even though I’m not so sure. Because even though everything they said makes sense, my heart still stings like it didn’t hear a word.
“Hey,” I eventually say to change the subject, since I know my feelings are something I’ll have to wrestle with on my own. “Would either of you be interested in adopting a dog?”
Rowan and Dee remain silent for a while, until they eventually allow me to shift the conversation. They both tell me what I already guessed—that their apartment building doesn’t allow pets—and I frown as two more doors close for Phoenix. They insist they’ll ask around though, and I thank them as I think of my sweet golden Chow, who still won’t walk beside anyone but me.
She’s the only creature I tell all my secrets to—the only one who knows how much I’m struggling.
I miss Mike with every beat of my heart, every breath that fills my lungs. While he’s living his dream, I’m drowning trying to reach mine. And I don’t know how I can ever get it unless I’m willing to give him up.
Rowan is right. Mike deserves to be happy. But how can I make him happy when my own happiness is so out of reach?
Chapter 43
Four weeks.
It’s been four weeks since I last saw him.
In Phoenix’s cage, I tap my finger against a calculator, crunching numbers. I’ve tried to work this out a thousand different ways—a way I could give up my uncle’s financial support and still finish getting my degree. I’ve accounted for theoretical jobs and maybe-possible scholarships. I’ve calculated living expenses and textbook expenses and miscellaneous expenses. I’ve added the numbers with my car and car insurance, without my car and car insurance, with Internet, without Internet, and it all comes out the same.
Not possible. Without sizable savings, which would take me years of living at home to accrue, it’s just not possible.