The First Boy I Ever Kissed
Please note, the contents of my short story ‘The First Boy He Ever Kissed’ are contained within this novella—you don’t need to have read that story first.
Tommy
This is the last time I’m going to be doing this, I think to myself, halfway around the final security loop of Section B’s looming dark warehouses. This time next week I’ll be thousands of miles away. Taking off and travelling has been my dream for over a year, so why is my heart now growing heavier by the second?
“You’re quiet tonight. I hope you’re not realising how much you’re going to miss this place and having second thoughts about leaving,” Kerry says with a questioning sort of smile.
I open my mouth to laugh it off and say something flippant, but instead what comes out is, “Why does no one ever tell you being an adult is overall nothing like you think it’ll be when you’re a kid? Like you think it’ll be all excitement and doing whatever you want and it’s mostly just hard work.” God, maybe I am having second thoughts.
In the distance, the Christmas tree perched on the very top of the lift tower glows green, then red, then green against the night sky. It’s supposed to be Christmas tomorrow, and I feel nothing about that fact really. Maybe if there was someone for me to share it with, someone special, it’d be different. I don’t know. Oh God, I really don’t want to be having second thoughts. Not depressing ones anyway.
“Being an adult has other benefits, believe me,” Kerry says, her voice teasing. I glance at her gratefully, loving that she knows me well enough to know teasing and lightening up is exactly what I need right now. “Like how the day after tomorrow you’ll be carrying your worldly possessions in that ropey backpack of yours and heading off to places I’ve barely even heard of. Now that’s exciting. Maybe you should go get your groove on in town tonight, stop thinking too much. Have a bit of grown-up fun…if you know what I mean.” She waggles her eyebrows.
“Wow, Kerry, somehow you’ve made going out and having fun sound super seedy.” I shake my head at her and smile.
Thing is, Kerry knows as well as I do, getting my groove on is the last thing I want to be doing. It’s been so long since I’ve anything’d with anyone that I reckon I’ve probably forgotten how. And I know I should probably put myself out there more, but every time I think about meeting someone, something in me shuts down. Which was part of the reason I decided to go travelling in the first place—hoping a different place, a different country, a whole world of different people will eventually fix that.
And besides, Kerry’s given me enough after-work lifts with my bike to the skatepark to know where I’m really going to be headed after work.
“Think you’ll miss our nightly talks?” I bump her shoulder.
It’s now only fifteen minutes before my final shift here ends, and however light we’re keeping it—or, well, Kerry is trying to keep it—I’m really going to miss her. Being a security guard for Star Logistics probably not so much, but this past year it’s our late-night conversations that’ve made these long, quiet shifts, patrolling mostly empty warehouses that no one ever comes near, more than bearable.
“Miss you?” Kerry turns towards me, her blond curls shifting in the breeze. She’s tall. Taller than me anyway, and wears the sort of expression that I guess could be intimidating if you didn’t know her. “You coming on to me, now? Going to offer to take me with you?”
I grin. “I think Jill’d have my balls.” And Kerry laughs, loud enough that it echoes around the dark yard.
Kerry’s wife does in fact terrify me just a little. Not that I’d ever admit that to Jill’s face.
“She would indeed. Also your—”
But whatever Kerry is about to say is drowned out by the sudden deafening blare of the alarms. All of them, it sounds like.
Our shocked eyes meet for a fraction of a second, and then we’re running for the office.
Section B alarms—our section—sound like whirring bells. We test them regularly. They’re familiar. And right now, we can hardly hear them over the deafening roar of all the section alarms ringing at once.
Glen in the front office is frantically scanning the CCTV until Marvin appears from behind him shaking his head. “Some four-by-four’s rammed the west gate, and now they’re doing donuts in the Section A car park. Police are on their way.”
Glen kicks his chair back, and Kerry rolls her eyes and sighs. “Kids,” they both say together.
“Come on, you.” She chucks me her radio, then grabs a loudspeaker off the wall. “Looks like you’re going to see a little excitement before you’re done after all.”
By the time we reach the four-by-four, whoever’s driving has managed to mount the grassy verge at the edge of the car park and crash into the low wall that surrounds it. And now the massive thing is stuck, wheels spinning, accelerator revving, going nowhere.
“Turn the engine off and get out of the car,” Kerry says, her voice tinny as it echoes through the loudspeaker.
Out the corner of my eye, I can see guards from the other four sections waiting in the shadows, making sure every exit of the car park is covered. I feel like I’m in some sort of US TV show. This level of excitement is more than I’m used to.
The car’s engine dies. I edge forwards, but Kerry’s hand touches my wrist and she shakes her head. Seconds later all four car doors burst open and four people tumble out, barely touching the ground before they start running, scattering in completely different directions.
“You know what to do,” Kerry says, placing the loudspeaker on the ground. I nod, and we both take off after whoever is nearest to us.
Police sirens echo in the distance.
I’m pretty sure it’s a guy I’m chasing, though they have a hood up. There’s something weirdly familiar about the way he runs.
While I was never exactly classed as a typical sporty kid at school, I’ve spent my whole life on my bike learning tricks and stunts, and I’m fit and pretty fast and catch up with him easily. One step to the side and I knock him off balance, my shoulder against his. I don’t even put my whole weight behind it, but he’s short and light and he goes flying, arse over tit on the concrete. It’s got to hurt, and I immediately bend down to check he’s okay. Splayed on his back on the ground, he gasps in a wheezy-sounding breath, sounding completely winded. Shit. I only wanted to stop him, not hurt him.
“Tommy, watch her for me,” Kerry says behind me.
I turn to see an out-of-breath girl with green braids and an annoyed expression crouch down next to us. Kerry used to sprint for the county back in her day. The girl probably had no chance.
“Jack and Shona need a bit of help,” Kerry adds before jogging over to where Jack and Shona from Section A are struggling to calm another runner from the four-by-four.
Blue and red lights splash everywhere as three police cars pull into the car park. I turn my attention back to the guy on the ground, who’s still wheezing a little, and as I look at him, properly this time, my stomach gives a strange half-hurt, half-excited swoop. Even with his face mostly hidden in the shadow of his hood, I recognise him. Kim? I almost say it. But when he meets my eyes, he looks stunned and, at the same time, painfully terrified, and before I have another thought, he leans up off the ground and makes a spitting sound in my face. He doesn’t actually spit, just kind of forcefully blows air, but I don’t realise that at first, and I stumble backwards in shock. He glares at me, and all the recognition I thought I saw is gone. But then maybe he wouldn’t remember me… The last time we saw one another was two years ago, at the school prom. I’ve changed, I know I have. And so has he, a little. His face is a little thinner, the hollows of his eyes a little darker. Unfortunately, he still makes my stomach tight and my heart trip over itself. But expecting what happened between us to be as important to him as it was to me is just ridiculous. I know it is.