Firsts by Laurie Elizabeth Flynn

hoping he will politely decline, make up some kind of excuse for having to leave. But instead he smiles broadly and follows me into the house.
    I had almost forgotten about the fact that I’m wearing a bathrobe with only a bra and underwear on underneath. But in the kitchen, with my bare feet on the cold floor, it’s hard to ignore.
    “We have water and some kind of green concoction,” I say, peering into the fridge. Kim must be on one of her juice cleanses this week.
    “I’ll just have water. Thanks.”
    I open the cabinet to retrieve a glass. When I turn around, Charlie is peeling his shirt off.
    “What’re you doing?” I say, clenching the glass tightly in my hand. He balls his T-shirt in one of his hands. I can’t help but notice his ab muscles, the veins running down his biceps. Charlie never used to look like that. When did he get in such good shape?
    “Sorry. I’m hot. And this shirt doesn’t smell so good.”
    I pour water from a pitcher into the glass, spilling some on the counter in the process. I don’t know why being alone in the kitchen with Charlie is making me this flustered. It’s not like I haven’t hung out with him before. But our common denominator has always been Angela. Angela is what we have in common. I only know Charlie because of her, and that’s the only reason he knows me.
    “Angela’s coming over to study later,” I say, gripping the countertop with my fingertips.
    Charlie gulps down the water and cocks his head. “Do me a favor,” he says. “Don’t tell her I was here. You know that little secret I mentioned? Maybe it can be ours.”
    I chew on my bottom lip, trying to keep the surprise off my face. I already have secrets from Angela. The whole atheist thing tops the list, followed closely by the virgins. Angela doesn’t know about Luke and what happened after he left. There are so many things I have kept hidden from my best friend. It’s not that I don’t want to share them with her. Sometimes when we’re having tea together after school or taking a long walk, I imagine what she would say if I were to unload everything on her. I never go through with it, because I know exactly what she would think.
    But this is different. This is voluntarily keeping something from her that shouldn’t even be important. Charlie is our new gardener. I don’t know why he wants it kept secret. Maybe he’s embarrassed. Maybe he wants to avoid youth group on the weekend. Maybe he really is saving up his money.
    “Deal,” I say. Charlie extends his hand and envelops mine in a sweaty handshake. My hand feels tiny in his, like his giant fingers could reduce my bones to dust.
    I wave through the window when he leaves, sauntering to his truck with his shirt still off.
    Now I’m not just keeping my own secrets anymore.

 
    13
    “I don’t get it,” Angela says, slumping over my carefully constructed diagram. “I’m just meant to fail this class, I guess.”
    She really doesn’t get it. Every time I start to explain something, she zones out. I can tell she’s pretending to pay attention, but her mind is wandering, just like her eyes are doing around my room. Angela hasn’t ever been the easiest person to help, but today she seems more distracted than usual, from the second she walked in the door and commented that something “smells different.” I immediately thought she knew about Charlie, that our handshake had created some kind of scent giveaway, but then she sniffed my arm and said it was my perfume.
    “I think it’s obvious,” Faye says. She’s lying on the floor of my bedroom with her laptop open on her stomach, her hair splayed out behind her.
    “You might think it’s obvious, but Angela doesn’t.” I cast an irritated glance at her. Generally, Faye’s bluntness would be a characteristic I admire, but the last thing I want is for Angela to feel even less confident about chemistry than she already does.
    “No, it’s not that. You keep trying to explain it to her.