the first one • j. hughes

2

Age 12:

It was some wedding of Mom's friend's daughter. Or was it the son? No, no. It was a daughter. The one who taught me how to apply the perfect amount of lip gloss in the bathroom that same night. Luke and I had been attached to each other's hips as usual.

"Dude, you suck at dancing," I said. The music was loud and so was the crowd of adults singing along. I think we may have been the youngest there.

It didn't bother Luke who was practically just convulsing and jumping and acting like it was dancing. "I'm great at this!"

"Not even close," I laughed. The song changed. A slow one came up next. People paired off.

Luke and I shrugged at each other before somehow deciding to go get some snacks. We weren't interested in the comments we knew would be made if we did anything that seemed more than pals. We were tired of it at that point.

Right before we stepped off the dance floor into the section of the room with the tables, my wrist was grabbed. Honestly, I thought it'd be Patton. Maybe Quinn. They liked including me in these kinds of things. Holland always got first dibs on dancing with Dad. After Mom. Well, sometimes after Mom.

But it was neither of them.

It was Jack.

"Do you want to dance?" He asked. His voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Do you want to dance with me?"

I looked over my shoulder at Luke. His face was scrunched up in confusion. It hurt. What was so confusing about a boy wanting to slow dance with me? Especially a boy like Jack. A boy I liked. Boys at our school dance asked Holland to dance plenty. Why not me?

Ignoring Luke, I gave Jack a nod and let him lead me onto the dance floor. I didn't know if he'd danced with a girl before. I'd only danced with Dad and Penn. They didn't count. Not like Jack would.

It was stiff but my hands went on his shoulders and his on my waist. Was it supposed to be the other way around? I remember searching the floor for examples. Ellen and Jimmy looked like they were hugging and swaying back and forth. The bride and groom were holding hands on one side, her arm looped almost around the back of his to have her hand on his shoulder. His hand on her waist. Her head on his chest.

We were at an arm's length from each other. My face was already crazy red. No doubt about it. If I got any closer to Jack, I'd go crazy. He didn't know about my little crush on him. Didn't know about how much hope he gave me simply because of asking me to dance.

Jack was searching the whole dance floor too and when he looked at me, he frowned. "Are you wearing makeup?"

The perfect amount of lipgloss is what flew threw my mind then. My mascara that no one seemed to notice next.

"A little bit," I said. "Why?"

"Your cheeks are like really red."

While I got even redder from the embarrassment of that, he looked over my shoulder and frowned there. I did the same and saw that Mom, who had been dancing with Penn a few moments ago, and Ellen both had their phones up and were smiling like crazy. I practically gave myself whiplash trying to make sure my really red cheeks weren't in the photos.

"I told them not to do that," he said.

It was my turn to frown. "What do you mean?"

"I told them that I'd only ask you to dance as long as they didn't take pictures."

To my luck, the DJ changed the song right then. My heartbeat was in my head and I wanted to cry. So badly. He didn't ask because he wanted to. He asked because the moms asked him to. He didn't even want pictures of it happening. As if it's so bad to dance with me.

I tried saying something about going to the bathroom but it came out choked and that added to how embarrassed I was. So I practically ran out into the lobby of the venue. Down the hall opposite the one to the bathroom, sinking to the ground. Was it a bit dramatic? Sure. But those tears felt righteous back then. My heart felt seriously broken for the first time ever with my first real crush ever.

"Kennedy."

Panic built up in my chest. It was getting very full in there. Patton didn't care. He sat down next to me, his legs kicked out in front of us while I had mine curled up to my chest.

"Penn." His nickname's second nature. I'm the one who started it. Baby Ken couldn't pronounce Patton too well and something like "peh-ehn" turned into Penn.

"What's going on?" He asked.

I shrugged.

He held out a balled-up collection of napkins. "Figured you'd need these."

"Thanks." I took them but didn't even use them. They went to the ground next to me.

"Do I have to beat up that shrimp?"

The very idea of Penn beating up anyone made me laugh. It's not like he couldn't. He definitely could. Especially Jack. It was that he would rather not and probably wouldn't. Probably.

"I thought someone actually wanted to dance with me," I said. "Holly gets asked to dance by boys other than you. I don't. And I thought Jack actually wanted to and that felt perfect."

"It seemed like he asked you."

"The moms told him to."

"Ah, gotcha." Penn took a deep breath. "What's this thing about boys not asking you to dance? Do you care about that? Boys are dumb."

"I want to be the kind of girl that gets asked to dance. Like Holl-"

"Stop that," he snapped. "If you're constantly trying to be Holland, no one will want to dance with Kennedy. Got it?"

"Got it." I didn't really get it.

"You're gonna end up having plenty of boys asking you to dance eventually. They'll want to. And it'll be way better than whatever the hell you and Jack were doing in there."

I laughed. "I don't know about that."

"Trust me," he said. "That was the worst dance you'll have in your life and that includes whatever Luke was doing to Pitbull earlier."

I laughed harder. Jack was still firmly on my mind. He would be for a few months.

Penn stood up and held out a hand. "Now, come on. Dessert time."