Firsts Are Always Messy Bonus Chapter 1

We’re moving again. Because Mom and Dad are fighting.

Again.

This time, Dad’s the one who had the inappropriate relationship. Something about a young receptionist at work.

I don’t know why they stay together. Why they can’t stop sleeping with other people. Why they keep hurting each other like this.

They say they love each other, but this doesn’t look like love to me. It looks more like war.

“I told you, Randy,” Mom cries. “I told you I couldn’t handle one more affair.”

“It was one time,” Dad argues back. “You were getting cozy with that Frank guy.”

“Frank!” Mom shouts. “Frank is my boss’ grandfather. I took him to dinner a few times because he’s 80 years-old and he was tired of waiting for Kara to finish her conference calls.”

“I-I just assumed…” The pain in Dad’s voice is clear as I hear his feet shuffle, the sound of the springs on the couch bowing beneath his weight.

“I cheat on you one time, four years ago, and you can’t forgive me,” Mom says. “I told you how sorry I was. I went to counseling with you. We moved. I found a new job. How long are you going to punish me?”

Dad exhales.

“Because I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” Mom continues. “I don’t know how many times I’m supposed to look the other way for you. I love you, but maybe you need to figure out what it is you want. If it’s not me anymore, then we’ll figure things out.”

Mom’s footsteps get closer to our hiding spot in the hall closet.

“I love you, Randy,” Mom’s voice cracks, “but I can’t stay in a marriage like this anymore.”

My arm wraps tighter around Matt. He’s silently crying beside me. It’s hard to be the children of two people hell bent on destroying each other. Harder to be the children of parents who can’t get it together. For the sake of their family.

Mom’s affair all those years ago was with a colleague she fell in love with. His name was Dave and he was tall and had tons of money. We had to move from the city to a smaller town. Mom had to find a new job. Grandma started watching us on Tuesday nights when they had marriage counseling. I think it was harder on Matt than it was on me.

“Shh,” I tell Matt as Mom climbs the stairs, his sniffling getting louder. They don’t need to know we’re hiding in here. Sometimes their fights get pretty loud, violent on occasion. Sometimes it’s easier to hide.

Matt buries his head into my arm, tries to stifle the sobs. He doesn’t want to leave. He’s on some all-star basketball team that’s headed to playoffs. Or something equally exciting.

I don’t really care.

I’m into photography. And before we moved from Seattle, it used to be my favorite place to photograph.

I’ve kind of abandoned it. Given it up. I should get back into it.

“Where do you think we’ll move this time?” Matt asks me.

I shrug. “I don’t know. But I’ll make sure it’s the last time we ever move.”

—

Pine trees. Fresh air. Mountain peak. Valley below.

Holy crap.

So many things to take pictures of.

It’s day two in Colorado. On some mountain we visit every winter to snowboard and ski at. Mom and Dad said it’s a last ditch effort to save their marriage.

Which means we’ll probably move in a year or two with their track record.

“Tommy!” I hear a high-pitched scream.

I turn, see a flash of brown hair whiz down the driveway next to ours.

“Stop stealing the ball from me!” she hollers at the blond-haired guy. He’s dribbling the ball in circles around her.

She looks like she’s younger than me, probably the same age as Matt. When she turns in my direction, I see the bright, ocean blue color of her eyes, sparkling and alive.

My heart freezes in my chest when I hear it, loud and resounding.

That’s her. That’s the girl.

Instantly, my throat dries while I try to figure out what that means.

“Thomas Declan Kearns,” she roars, “give my the ball right this instant!”

All her screaming gets Mom’s attention as she hops out of the moving van with another box.

“Ooh,” Mom’s vibrant green eyes widen. “Our neighbors. Let’s go meet them.”

I feel my hands start to sweat, my pulse quicken, my whole body is freaking out.

What’s going on with me? I’ve never reacted to someone like this before.

Especially not a girl. 

A child.

I pace nervously back and forth as Mom heads inside to set down the box and grab Dad and Matt.

Basketball. She likes basketball. Except I suck at it. I’m better at baseball. Why couldn’t she be into softball? 

Mom walks out the front door with Dad and Matt in tow, excitedly motioning towards our new neighbors’ two-story house.

I guess we’re doing this. We’re going to meet our new neighbors.

And the girl.

My girl.

No, not my girl. Why am I thinking that? Why am I talking to myself?

Mom wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Come on.”

I peer up at her, her eyes gentle and loving, give her a small nod.

We walk between our houses, feet treading along a small strip of grass that connects our two driveways. Dad and Matt are behind us, talking about some game they were in the middle of watching during their break from the endless pile of boxes in the big yellow van parked out front.

“Hello!” Mom greets the girl’s parents. I hadn’t noticed they were sitting next to each other on the tailgate of a big, white truck, drinking beer.

So far, they seem pretty cool.

The mom stands first, smiles wide. “Hi! You must be the new neighbors. I’m Lainey, this is my husband, Billy. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

She has the same brown hair as the girl currently stomping her foot on the makeshift court. Her eyes are a goldish, green color, though. Not the sparkling blue of the young girl currently hollering at the top of her lungs about an unfair play.

“I’m Diane. This is Randy,” Mom throws a thumb over her shoulder, motioning towards Dad. “This is Kyle, he’s 13 and Matt,” she steps aside to pull him in front of her, next to me, “is 10.”

“Jenny’s 10,” Lainey laughs. “Jenny, get over here!”

I watch as the girl rolls her eyes, steals the ball from the older guy and marches over.

“Jenny,” Lainey raises an apprehensive eyebrow, “these are our new neighbors. Diane, Randy, Kyle and Matt.”

I see it, the moment she lays her ocean blue eyes on Matt. She likes him.

“Hi,” she says to him while completely ignoring me.

“You like basketball?” he asks, surprised.

“Of course,” she scrunches her face. “It’s only, like, the best sport ever. I play on a league at the rec center. If you’re any good, you should join.”

“Wanna play a game of one-on-one?” Matt smiles.

I want to tell him to back off, that I saw her first. But it’s been so long since I’ve seen my brother smile. He could use a friend.

“Sure,” the girl smiles back, tucks a messy strand of chestnut brown behind her ear.

I don’t think she’s noticed me. She’s too busy fidgeting with the basketball with her hands. But then, she looks up and I feel it. Fire coursing through every cell in my body. 

For a split second, I think she might feel it, too.

But then she frowns. “It’s rude to stare, you know.”

She spoke to me. Actually said something to me.

Before I know it, she throws the basketball at me as hard as she can, hitting me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me.

“Jenny!” Lainey yells in horror. “Why would you do that? Apologize right now.”

She picks up the basketball as it rolls back towards her. I see it. I see the moment the corner of her lips tug into a brief smile. “Sorry.”

Except I know she doesn’t mean it.

Then, she’s jogging over to the blond-haired guy, telling him to get off her court so she can find out if the new kid is any good.

“Tommy’s my stepson,” Lainey informs us. “I’m sorry about Jenny. She, uh, has some fire in her.”

Fire.

She’s fire.

And I’m ice.

The perfect combination.

And I know now. I know that I’ll do everything I can so I never have leave her. I’ll never let Mom and Dad move us again.

I’m staying put.

For good.