They say you never forget your first love, and I have to say that they were right. I met the girl of my dreams when we were both still fans of treehouses and dirt cakes—she made the best dirt cakes in Georgia—and today, seventeen years later, I still see her smile in everything good
We tried it once, being together, but it didn’t quite work out how I had hoped. Bray’s life has always been… complicated. Mine, well, I guess the same can be said for me, but as much as she and I are alike, there are just as many things that makes us so very different.
I never thought a relationship with her, other than being the best of friends—sometimes with benefits—could ever work. Neither did she. I guess in the beginning, we were both right. But by the end—and damn, the end sure as hell blindsided us—we were proven wrong. Our love for each other, and I admit a few dozen mistakes along the way are what led us here to this moment, holed up in the back of a convenience store with cops surrounding the building
But… wait let me start from the beginning
Fourth of July—Seventeen Years Ago…
The kind of crush a nine-year-old boy has on an eight-year-old girl is almost always innocent. And cruel. The first time I saw Brayelle Bates flitting toward me through the wide-open field by Mr. Paron’s pond, she was marked my victim. She wore a white sun dress and a pair of flip-flops with little purple flowers made of fabric sewn to the tops. Her long, dark hair had been pulled neatly into ponytails on each side of her head and tied with purple ribbons. I loved her. OK, so I didn’t really ‘love’ her, but she sure was pretty So, naturally I gave her a hard time.
“What’s that on your face?” I asked as she started to walk by.
She stopped and crossed her arms and looked down at me sitting on my blanket beside my mother, pursing her lips at me disapprovingly “There’s nothing on my face,” she said with a smirk
“Yes there is.” I pointed up at her. “Right there. It’s really gross.”
Instinctively, she reached up and began touching her face all over with her fingertips “Well, what is it? What does it look like?”
“It’s everywhere. And I told you it’s gross, that’s what it looks like.”
She propped both hands on her hips and chewed on the inside of her mouth “You’re lying.”
“No I’m not. Your whole face, it’s really ugly. You should go to the doctor and get that checked out.”
The tip of her flip-flop and her big toe jabbed me in the back of my hip.
“Owww! What was that for?” I reached around and rubbed the spot with my fingertips I noticed my mother shake her head at us, but she went back to her conversation with my aunt, Janice.
Bray crossed her arms and snarled down at me. “If anyone out here is gross, it’s you. Your face looks just like my dog’s ass.”
My mom’s head snapped around hearing that, and she glared at me as if I was the one who cursed.
I just shrugged
Bray turned on her heels and sauntered away with her chin held high, catching up with her parents who were already many feet out ahead of her. I watched her go, the throbbing in my hip a reminder that if I was going to mess with that girl anymore that there would be more pain and abuse where that came from Of course, it only made me want to do it again.
As the pasture filled up with Athen’s residents come to see the yearly fireworks display, I watched Bray do cartwheels in the grass with her friend. Every now and then I saw her look over at me, showing off and taunting me. She did get the best of me, after all, and it was only natural for her to gloat about it. I got bored fast sitting with my mom, especially since Bray seemed to be having so much fun over there.
“Where are you going, Elias?” my mom asked as I got up from the blanket “Just right over there,” I said, pointing in Bray’s direction.
“OK, but please stay in my sight.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes; mom was always worried I would get kidnapped or lost or hurt or wet or dirty or any number of things “I will,” I said and walked away
I weaved my way through the few families sitting in the space between us in lawn chairs and on blankets and with ice chests filled with beer and soda next to them, until I came face to face with that abusive girl I couldn’t get enough of.
“You really shouldn’t do cartwheels in a dress, you know that, right?” I asked.
Bray’s mouth fell open. Her blonde-haired friend, Lissa, who I knew from school, smiled up at me. I think she liked me.
“I have shorts on under my dress thank-you-very-much,” Bray snapped. “Why were you looking, anyway?”
“I wasn’t looking, I just…,”
Bray and Lissa burst into laughter.
My face flushed hot.
Bray had only just moved here from Atlanta a week ago, and it didn’t take long for her to fit in. Or rather to pretty much own the place as far as the kids went. She was the kind of girl so damn mean and intimidating and pretty that the other girls knew they had better befriend her or else end up her enemy. She wasn’t a bully, she just had this way about her that demanded respect.