First Love

There isn’t snow anymore, not in the small town I grew up in. A small town that used to be piled so high with snow that the cows could walk over the fences and it was called an automatic snow day. I missed the snow, how bright it made the world with its reflective qualities, and I missed the feeling of holidays. Now the world was dark and muddy, reminding me that I just wasn’t a little kid anymore.

I mean, I haven’t been a little kid in a long time considering that I’m settling into my first year of college, feeling too mature among the other freshmen. Maybe I just didn’t fit into my cheap, state college. Maybe I didn’t fit in anywhere.

Not in the house where my family was all staying, cozied up with gossip and criticism. Definitely not in my old high school where I was the decided plague that people would warn others off. And, now I suppose, in this college where I was too much of a prude and too much of a goody. Fitting in sucked, especially when I tried so hard to do it.

Sitting on the curb, I twirled my long hair, which I decided to grow out four months ago, around my press-on nail. Despite not having snow, my small town was still cold, fog emitting every time I breathed. A group of friends dashed by, shouting and laughing, and took the feeling of holidays with them.

Part of me wanted to pull out my phone and text the old group chat from high school. See if anyone wanted to hang out late in the night, go to the park just down the road we always loved. I didn't though, and opened the pack of candy, digging around for my favorite flavor.

A boy sat down beside me, I didn’t turn to look at him. I didn’t want to know.

“Have we met before?” He asked.

I could hear the tease in his mouth and the playful smile on his lips. Yeah, we’ve met before. I’d had that voice memorized since sophomore summer. A voice I heard when I would fall asleep too stressed, remembering parts of my life that I wanted to forget. At least, that’s what I told myself.

“Hey, Dani,” I greeted, still refusing to look at him. I didn’t want to see his brown eyes that I knew better than my own. I didn’t want to see his tan skin and soft smile. “What’re you doing here?”

What was he doing here? Not that many people were sitting on the curb outside of a grocery store late at night. At least, not alone.

He gestured with his arm, hand shoved into his pocket. “I live in those apartments right over there, remember? I could see you freezing out here and decided I wanted to say hi.”

Say hi? For some reason that made me angrier than I expected. Who knew I was still holding onto a grudge from three years ago. Well, not three years ago. That’s when we broke up. Then there were the summer nights after that he’d call me just to talk. Or the night when he called me to tell me to look outside, the aurora borealis spiking through our town.

Then, there was last winter when he called me on new years. I’d been traveling around Europe then with my family. I wonder if he knew how lonely I felt. I wonder if he felt lonely, too.

“How’s college life treating you?”

“Dani-” I sighed.

“How’s college?”

This time I did look at him, at his unreadable expression. There he was, my first love. The one guy I compared every kiss, every hug, every relationship I’d been in since. There were a lot of relationships after him, all the ones I used to try and fall in love again and erase what I’d lost.

Falling in love was easy for me. Staying in love was harder.

What could I say to him? College sucked. I had exactly two friends that both had partners they were going to marry, promise rings decorating their fingers. College sucked because I never went out, I never talked to people, and for all the effort I put into it, I’ve already been dropped by my freshman friend group. I was left out and jealous.

“Good,” I opted for, “college is good.”

Dani peered at me, as if he knew I was a liar, and scuffed the sole of his shoe on the ground. Pebbles dislodged from the frozen concrete under his foot and skittered about.

He went to say something, opening his mouth, so I stopped him. “How’s your senior year?”

He shook his head, jaw ticking, “it's good, Lily, better than it was last year.”

“What happened last year?”

But I knew what happened last year.

Last year I started dating this guy, someone that I thought could be the love of my life. I rejected Dani so that I could be with him. Karma sure got me for that. I twisted the skin of my wrist, remembering how badly that relationship ended.

I know Dani wasn’t too torn up about the whole rejection thing, we both knew it was a long shot. Everyone told us it was a bad idea to get back together, no matter how much we were drawn to one another. Everyone knew if we dated again it would just be another dead end of arguments and somehow the most fun I’d ever had.

“I was just lonely. I’m good now, though.”

“Good.”

“Are you lonely?”

Yeah, I wanted to tell him, more so than I felt like I belong. “Dani,” I warned again. I’m too tired to have this conversation. Yet, I’m always tired.

“Come on, talk to me.”

“Why?”

“Because I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

How did our old ‘I love you’ turn into ‘I miss you’? How did life end up this way? I knew I should have walked off and left him, to close the door both of us kept reopening. I should walk away.

Go back to my house where people would remind me of how hopeless my future would be. Go back to the house where I’d sit on my bed and stare at the wall, trying to come up with a plan on how to make friends. The next one would work, I’m just sure of it. It didn’t matter that the last hundred schemes failed.

"You still trying to be a painter?"

"No," I replied.

"Oh."

"You still trying to be a chef?"

"No."

"Right," I pressed my lips together. Another reminder that we just didn't know each other anymore. Another reminder that I needed to leave the past well alone.

“We could go back to my place? I could make you hot chocolate, like we used to, and we could talk about why you're sitting alone in the cold.”

Oh Dani, I thought. He can’t fix me just like I couldn’t fix him three years ago. But, the offer was too tempting. My first love was offering me his hand, standing up and asking me to walk home with him. What could I possibly say?