On graduation day, my brother won numerous honors and awards. He also gave one of the commencement speeches for our high school. Standing at the podium, he talked about looking forward, staying true to your ideals, contributing something to society. I couldn’t imagine what my brother would actually contribute to society. He’d take his fair share from society, that was for sure. But whatever. The speech sounded good. Everyone clapped.
My father had a big party in our backyard afterward. There were caterers and a tent. Since my brother’s friends tended to be as boring as he was, it was a pretty dull affair. There was Russell’s best friend, David Stiller, who was going to Stanford and was a cross-country runner. And his uptight friend Patricia, who was going to be a heart surgeon. And Hassad, who already wanted to be a banker.
As the party wound down, Claude stopped by. He came in the backyard, said hi to my parents, then we walked out to the driveway.
“What’s going on with you and Grace?” he asked me. Obviously Hanna had told him to talk to me.
I shrugged. “Seems like she’s not really into it anymore.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, she’s great and everything.”
“Hanna said you guys were probably going to break up,” said Claude.
“Yeah. I think so.”
Claude squinted in the sun. “You had a good run.”
“Yeah. It’s probably time.”
“You should do it soon,” said Claude. “Get it over with. So you’re free for the summer. And her, too.”
I nodded. I knew he was right.
“What about you and Hanna?” I asked. “What are you guys doing for the summer?”
“We’re gonna be apart for most of it. She’s teaching theater at a summer camp in July. And then she’s going to Norway with her parents.”
“And you’re playing tennis,” I said.
“Yeah, I’ve got this new coach. We’re doing all the tournaments. Seattle, Boise, California.”
“California,” I said, shaking my head. California had all the best tennis players.
“Yeah, that won’t be fun,” said Claude. “But this coach is all about the quality competition.”
I nodded.
Claude looked down the street. “And Hanna’s still giving me shit about Petra. If you can believe that.”
“What’s her problem?”
“She’s always gotta have something going on. Something to battle over.”
“Huh.”
“It’s ridiculous,” said Claude, kicking a rock into the street. “But you know what? I like Petra. I’m not going to shut her out of my life.”
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing this summer?” he asked me.
“My mom got me a job at the Garden Center. Watering the plants and stuff.”
“That’s cool.”
“I’ll make some money.”
“Money’s cool.”
“Yeah,” I said. “We’ll see.”
“All right,” said Claude. “I gotta roll. Gotta go practice the backhand.”
“Good luck in California.”
“Good luck watering the plants.”
• • •
Despite Claude’s encouragement, I still couldn’t figure out how to break up with Grace. Two weeks into the summer we were still together. When Logan had his first pool party, he invited the two of us as a couple. As I drove my mom’s car to Grace’s house, I wondered if this would be the night we would finally end it.
I picked up Grace and we drove to Logan’s. It was nice out, warm. We had the car windows down. We made small talk. The vibe wasn’t terrible between us. But it wasn’t good, either.
Things were more comfortable once we got there. Petra handed Grace a Bud Light and dragged her off. I sat by the pool with Logan and some of the guys. Claude was in Seattle playing his first big tournament of the summer. We always missed him when he was gone. Nothing was quite as fun without him.
Later, when the sun went down, it got cold. Logan told me I could borrow a hoodie, so I went upstairs to his room. I was looking through his drawers when someone knocked on the open door.
“Hello?” said Hanna.
“Hey,” I said, still digging through Logan’s sweatshirt collection.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Getting a hoodie.”
“Yeah, it’s kinda cold out . . .”
I found a hoodie and unfolded it. It looked like it might fit.
“I’m sort of cold too,” she said, coming into the room with her beer. “Is there anything that would fit me?”
I found a sweatshirt that was a medium and handed it to her.
She put it on over her T-shirt and bikini bottoms. I put on one too. It was a large.
“I couldn’t help noticing something, Gavin,” said Hanna, pulling her hair through the neck hole.
I felt a tingle of excitement when Hanna said my name.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You and Grace.”
I went to Logan’s mirror and pulled my hoodie on. “What about us?”
Hanna came over to the mirror too. She stood beside me, close enough that our arms touched.
“I don’t think she’s happy,” said Hanna.
I looked at her once in the mirror.
“Do you think it might be time for you guys to move on?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “It probably is.”
“I know she loves you. And I know you love her. . . .”
I nodded that this was true.
“Have you guys had sex?” asked Hanna.
She must have known we hadn’t. Grace was one of her best friends. But I shook my head no.
“Hmmmm,” she said. “Well, that’s probably for the best. In terms of not breaking each other’s hearts too bad.”
“I know,” I said. “We should break up. I’m just not sure how to do it.”
Hanna smiled at that. “Of course you don’t. Grace is your first girlfriend. You’ve never done it before!”
I nodded. I was embarrassed in a way, but I was also enjoying this private conversation with beautiful Hanna. It was rare that a person got Hanna’s full attention. I certainly had never had it. Not like this.
She turned toward me and gripped the front of my hoodie. She gently tugged me from side to side in a teasing way. “It’s hard to break up,” she said. “I know. And even though you still love someone, even though you’ll probably always love them, you still have to do it. If it’s time. It’s not good to drag things out.”
Tears came into my eyes. Partly because I was about to lose Grace forever. But also because Hanna was so close to me. She was touching me. The brightness of her presence, the glow of her warmth: It melted you instantly. There was no defense against it.
“I know it’s hard,” murmured Hanna, gazing up into my face. “But when the time comes . . .”
I nodded. Hanna’s forehead was about eight inches from my nose. I could smell her. She smelled of chlorine, of shampoo, of herself.
“You think I should do it tonight?” I said.
She nodded.
When I didn’t say anything, she reached down and took my hand in both of hers. “What is it, Gavin? Are you worried you won’t find someone else?”
“No,” I said.
“Because I happen to know a lot of girls who like you.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course,” she said, grinning. “Sooo many girls think you’re cute. They tell me . . .”
I knew then that something was going to happen. The sensation was one of rolling down a hill, of gathering speed, slowly at first and then not so slowly.
“Oh, Gavin . . . ,” purred Hanna. She nestled up closer. The tips of her breasts pressed into my chest. I could feel the softness of them. “Do you have any idea how cute you are?” She touched my chin with her forefinger. “Do you have any idea at all?”
This was not good. And I knew it. But Hanna, oh my God, to be near her, to be touched by her, to breathe her. To have those gorgeous green eyes on you, holding you, enticing you, inviting you to do things you knew you shouldn’t but would be an idiot not to. I knew what I was about to do. And I knew what I would lose if I did it. But I still went ahead. I couldn’t help myself. I kissed her.
She was shocked, of course. Or she pretended to be. But Hanna was not a person who shrank from a challenge. She kissed me right back. She was no priss. There was a single unforgettable moment of pure connection, of perfect equality, of love almost. Then it turned into something else: a test, a trial run, an experiment. Hanna was trying me on for size. She was checking me out. She was doing this because why not? She was young. Why shouldn’t she sample what was available to her?
But oh, the taste of her. The velvety texture of her tongue and mouth. The perfect warmth and softness of her body as I pressed her closer to me. My brain swam in my skull. I felt like I was in a different world, a different universe.
And then, from behind me, I heard the faint whisper of another female voice: “Oh no.”
That was Grace.
And then a louder gasp. And a different voice: “OH MY GOD! WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING!?”
That was Petra.
The two of them were standing in the doorway. They had come looking for us. And they had found us.