Being with him is perfect in more ways than I want to admit.
Lying in Marshal’s embrace, I have the realization that even with Jack, I held back.
Not intentionally, not maliciously, but more out of self-preservation. I couldn't tell Jack everything. I never told him about my first time.
I couldn’t tell him about Todd, who was not only fast but clumsy. I never mentioned my disastrous first attempt at sex. How it hurt or how it lasted about ten seconds. It isn't a part of me I wanted him to know, but it is different with Marshal. He already knows. He knew the day after it happened.
Closing my eyes, I see him the way he looked ten years ago.
It was the day after prom.
While I probably should answer Todd's texts, I leave my phone at home and walk down to Marshal’s house. I don’t knock. That is the way we are in our neighborhood—one family. When Marshal’s mom, Monica, sees me, she smiles and asks if I enjoyed prom.
Nodding, I embellish my answer. I could do that with her but not with Marshal.
As soon as my friend appears at the bottom of the stairs and sees me, he reaches for my hand, tells his mom we are leaving, and tugs me outside.
We don’t say a word as we get in his truck.
He stares out the windshield as if he knows what I’m going to say. The sounds of the road amplify as we drive out of our neighborhood. I’m not sure where we are going, and I don’t care.
I am with my best friend.
Finally, we pass through the rusty old posts where the gate used to be, at the lake.
With voices near the water, he takes my hand and we walk into the wooded area, our shoes crunching the underbrush. It isn’t until we make it to the edge of a recently planted cornfield that we stop. Marshal sits on the grass with his knees bent and his elbows resting on top before he plucks a long piece of grass from the ground and plops it in his mouth.
His silence is wearing on me as much as my uneasiness at what I’d done.
It is as if my skin is stretched and itchy, not allowing me to sit. Instead, I cross my arms over my breasts and use the toe of my shoe to dig into the soft ground.
As the long grass dangles from his lips, such as a 1940s movie star’s cigarette, Marshal finally speaks.“You did it with Todd, didn't you?"
I won't lie to Marshal. I never have. My answer is barely above a whisper. "I guess."
His lean body stiffens and his bicep pulses. "I'm going to kick his ass."
I stand straighter as my voice returns. "Why? It's not like you haven't done it with...well, everyone."
"But I'm a guy. It's what guys do. I swear if he runs off his fucking mouth about you, it'll be the last damn thing he ever does."
I scoff. "He won't. Plus, if he runs off his mouth, he's a lying piece of shit."
I like Todd, but I also know how guys can be. I know how Marshal can be.
My best friend’s gaze leaves the field as he stands and reaches for my arms. As he stares into my eyes, he asks, "Are you okay?"
I shrug. "Yeah, I'm fine. Not much can happen in ten seconds."
His expression of anger morphs into a smile growing bigger by the second. It's contagious and soon I'm smiling too.
"Ha," he says. His eyes narrow. “Are you serious?”
I nod. With the tension floating away in the spring breeze, I sit next to where Marshal had been sitting and look out at the baby corn.
“Well, that’s good to know,” Marshal says, taking a seat beside me. “I guarantee that when I let him know that I know that little bit of information, it'll keep him from talking trash about you."
"Littleis right." Marshal’s smile encourages me to continue with my heart growing lighter by the second. "I mean, I don't have a lot to compare it to, but yeah, little is about right."