the first one • j. hughes

28

Age 19:

It was one of my favorite kinds of days. A hot August day that bleeds into a cool night. A day spent out on the lake turns into sitting around a campfire. Loud music switching to soft music, even better if some of it is from me messing around on the guitar. Smiles the whole time. The smiles are the most important part.

Everyone else had wandered off back to the house after s'mores. Either to get some rest, shower, or something else. It left Jack and I there. Every time the fire would start to get too small, Jack would toss on another log. I didn't know if it was because he thought I wanted it to keep going or if he wanted it to keep going.

I hadn't played the guitar since December or January. Maybe. It might've been longer. My callouses were long gone and eventually, I had to stop playing out of pure discomfort. If I could have, I would have kept playing as long as Jack would hum and sing along. It was so peaceful. The most calm, peaceful night I'd had for a while.

"You know you can take that hoodie off if you're not having more s'mores," he said. He stopped me from going back to the house for something to toss over my shirt when the s'mores stuff came out, giving me the UMich hoodie he was wearing.

I laughed. "Right, sorry."

"You don't have to," he rushed out. "But you don't have to keep wearing it either."

His chair was right up next to mine. Our armrests were basically one giant one. I didn't have my guitar to keep my limbs busy anymore. They felt restless. My fingers took to drumming against my half of the armrest. Jack's arm was right there. I could feel his warmth the same I could feel the fire's. If not more.

"You can keep it if you really like it," he added. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me as his arm seemed to press into mine. It wasn't. From elbow to the tips of our pinkies, he'd closed the gap.

"I do really like it," I said.

"Keep it." He paused. The kind of pause that you know they aren't done talking yet. Before he continued, he lifted his pinkie and crossed it over top of mine. I took my eyes off the fire for him. He was already looking at me with a smile. "Looks better on you anyway."

"Maize yellow brings out my eyes," I joked. Mostly to try and cover up how my breathing wasn't the steadiest.

I don't think I can ever forget the way he looked that night. The flames lit up one side of his face. The water behind him moved in the dark. His hair was a bit long but somehow looked as perfect as any other cut. Red sneaking up from his shoulders and behind his neck from not enough sunscreen.

The better part was how he was looking at me. Almost as though he couldn't believe I was real. As if he'd never forget what I looked like right then. His eyes were so gentle as they scanned over my face. The way once they reached my lips, his smile faltered as his tongue darted out and over his bottom lip. That smile returned as his eyes met mine again.

"Do you ever get super sad that there's people out there who haven't seen your smile?" I asked, the words tumbling out in that way only Jack makes them.

He shook his head slightly, smile somehow widening. "Sometimes you say shit that makes me want to kiss you."

"Oh."

What else do you say to that? The only thing that could ever cross my mind at Jack saying something like that is shock. Well, when he only said it once that is. The second time all I could think of was the first time.

In my shocked daze, I leaned forward. Not all the way. Only slightly. Not even letting my face cross over the halfway line between his armrest and mine. I wasn't going away from my side. Jack matched it. So close. We were so close.

If I moved forward, I thought, would his mouth taste like s'mores? What would a kiss with Jack Hughes even be like? Nostalgic despite never happening before? Would it be everything? Indescribable. That's what it would be, I decided. And everything. Jack could always be everything if I let him.

"Hey, Kenny," Cole shouted from the back door. Jack and I jumped away from each other. Retreated.

I sighed and shouted back, "What?!"

"I used your shampoo! Is that okay?"

"You already did it!"

His laugh cut through the night, followed by a shout, "Better to ask for forgiveness than permission!" The door sliding shut was next.

Almost instantly, something snapped in my mind. Did I even really feel that way about Jack? Could I feel that way about anyone with what just happened not even ten months ago? If I couldn't figure that out, it wasn't fair to him. I couldn't, in good conscience, let him be everything that night.

Jack's pinkie was still wrapped around mine. I flipped my hand over to turn it more into a pinkie promise. "Our secret?"

"Our secret," he confirmed. If he was hurt or sad, he didn't show it. We waited for the fire to die out before heading inside. I don't think our pinkies parted until going to our separate rooms.