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"Why are you even working today?" Stella grabbed another shoebox and turned it so the price sticker was facing out.

"Because I’m always here. It’s not like I had anything special planned."

"But it’s your birthday!"

I probably should have taken the night off, but I hadn’t heard from anybody about going out, and I wasn’t about to throw a party. I was turning nineteen, not nine. It was just like any other Wednesday…maybe I’d get together with the guys this weekend. Maybe Nate's brother could get us into a Glass Eye show. That would be cool.

The phone rang and Sharon ran for it, because it was always for her. "Jill…phone," she said, disappointed.

I quickly finished putting a pair of stray shoes back its box and headed to the phone. "This is Jillian." I heard my favorite giggle from the other end.

"Hi, Birthday Girl. You sure sound official."

"Hey, Clayton. What’s up?"

"Well, first I have to wish you a happy birthday…"

I hid my smile with my hand, which caused Stella to raise her eyebrow at me. "What, no singing?"

Another giggle. "Depends on your answer…I wanted to know if you were busy tonight."

I turned my back to Stella, who was making kissy faces. "What did you have in mind?"

"It’s a surprise. Come to my house when you get off and I’m gonna take you…somewhere."

"You’re taking me out? Do I need to change?"

"Whatever you want. I’m sure you look great. What time can you be here? I’d drive, but my house is kinda on the way."

"I get off at 10, so it’s 10:30 if I don’t go home."

"Perfect. Can’t wait to see you."

"Me too."

I hung up the phone, slumping for a second against the wall before heading back to the floor.

"Hot date?" Stella was sorting through the boxes I’d picked up.

I sighed. "I wish."

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

I headed to Clayton’s house immediately after work. I’d wanted to change first, but I wanted to see him as soon as possible. He’d be leaving for college in just over a month, and I was missing him already.

It had been quite a year since I’d graduated. I’d enrolled full time at a nearby state university where lots of people from my high school went, so, in some ways, things hadn’t changed. Even my pal Jillian Greer was there, faking it big time whenever we ran into each other on campus. I preferred our high school relationship where I was just a nobody…I guess since she was in a vastly bigger pond now, her big fish status had waned and she needed to work harder to convince the students that she was Miss Wonderful. And I really enjoyed snubbing her, every single time.

I’d chosen a major that pissed off my dad, but not as much as my refusal to apply for an Army ROTC scholarship did. Once again, he demonstrated that he had no idea who I was. But I’d gotten a good academic scholarship and was paying for my books without his help, so, as far as I was concerned, he had no room to complain.

Despite my class load and working 35-40 hours a week, I managed to have a social life. Some Art Club underclassmen had been impressed when they learned I could play the guitar, so when they formed a garage band, they seemed to want me to hang around and offer my expert opinion and advice. At first, I didn't bring Clayton to those jam sessions, because they weren't sure he was "cool enough", but once he'd led the fight to keep the school from painting over our mural only a year after its completion, they knew he was a good guy. It was too bad that all his effort ended up being for nothing. When the administration decided to rearrange the layout of the school, suddenly that hallway housed history classes instead of art and drama, and the new occupants just didn't want to walk by it every day. Clayton and the other students managed to keep it safe for that whole school year, but we got word that it was destroyed not long after his graduation that May.

Of course, this new affiliation with the freaks of the school didn't sit well with his folks. Just like the assistant principal, who had recently gone to a seminar on spotting Satan worshippers, they saw Clayton's new friends, me included, as a bad influence. Didn't matter that we were the kids who made root beer floats while we watched cartoons…we were weird, and therefore dangerous.

Clayton was standing on his parents’ driveway when I pulled up. Turns out he’d had an argument with his mom and she didn’t want him to go out that night. I loved that he was defying her in order to see me. He climbed into the passenger seat of my big blue ‘77 Chevy hand-me-down and told me where we were going…Five Mile Dam.

I’d never been there at night before. It was out so far in the country and so wide open, a big space ringed with old oaks and mesquites, and he said he wanted to see the stars from out there before he left Texas.

If he’d been any other guy, I’d have been worried. I’d heard it was a bit of a make-out spot, and I’d started to wonder in the past year if maybe he was interested in me…but he was going away soon, and I don’t think either of us knew what that meant for us. I knew I’d been thinking a lot about how I might be ready to lose my virginity, and every time I thought about it, I imagined myself with him. He’d be good to me, and wouldn’t see me as a conquest. And he’d be losing his too, so we’d understand each other’s awkwardness. And he had become even more handsome since the previous summer. Turns out he was one of those cute boys who grow into a gorgeous man overnight once they turn eighteen.

"Would it be okay if…um…if I kissed you?"

God, we’d wasted so much time. If only I’d had the guts to tell him sooner. I’d loved him for so long, and the only thing fueling my fear was the belief that he probably didn’t feel the same way. That I wasn’t the kind of girl he’d ever really be interested in. That he was a better guy than I deserved, no matter how badly I wanted him.

I rolled onto my hip and moved my leg onto his lap, and when he turned to meet my movement, he threw his long leg over mine. We were tangling into each other, and the bruise I’d knew I’d probably get from the windshield wiper poking into my butt didn’t matter a bit. How could I care about such menial things when the guy I loved was whispering between kisses that I was beautiful? When I was finally understanding that I didn’t need to be afraid of the way my body reacted around him? And when I pulled him closer, my leg moving up his thigh, I realized he was having the same feelings I was, and I knew it was all meant to be.

We decided that it would be more comfortable to move off of the hood and into the back seat. I hadn’t been in the back of that car since I was a kid and Grandma was taking me to visit my aunt. I now had a reason to love this car more than ever, because we had a lot of room back there, even with those long legs of his. The Temptations serenaded us from where I'd tossed the boombox on the front seat.

We changed position about a thousand times before realizing that it was best for me to be on my knees, straddling his lap. He felt so good, and he made me feel even better. Every touch, even through layers of clothing, felt exactly right. I loved the way he always hesitated before touching me somewhere new, waiting for my permission. I loved the feeling of his lips against my skin when he pulled the neckline of my blouse open and explored the top of my cleavage. I loved his naughty smile when I gasped from the shiver he gave me when he brushed his thumbs across my nipples. I loved the salty taste of the skin along his collarbone and around his ears. And I especially loved knowing that the incredible pressure between us was as enjoyable for him as it was for me.

All of a sudden, there were headlights shining in my eyes. A car was driving up quickly, and, fearing it was the police cracking down on amorous teenagers, like they always did in movies, I jumped off of his lap and sat as innocently as I could next to him. Turned out to be a false alarm…just more drunken idiots…but it had kinda killed the moment. We might have stopped making out, but that car was still filled with the kind of love I'd never felt before, so I had no reason to be upset. Still, I wondered if he wanted things to go further.

"I kinda do. I mean, eventually. Just not sure if tonight is a good idea."

I was relieved, and rested my head against his shoulder. "Good. I mean, I want to, but…let's just sit here for a while."

It was better this way. As ready as I thought I was, I was also in no hurry, now that I knew it could really happen. He wrapped his long arms around me and said he wanted me, but his going away to school couldn’t be a reason for us to rush into anything. It would happen when it was right...and in the meantime, we’d just enjoy the heck out of being together. And I’d just been given the best birthday present I’d ever gotten.

"You know why I gave you this last year?" he asked, playing with the pendant at the base of my throat. "Why I picked an opal for you?" I shook my head. "Because it's not flashy. It's got kind of a secret sparkle, with every color in there. And it's prettier and more interesting than all those other stones."

I couldn't have loved him more.

Over the next few weeks, we spent as much time together as we could manage. We both had to work a lot…and then there was having to get around his mom not wanting him to see me…so our time together was that much more precious. There was an awful lot of making out. Turned out he liked kissing me as much as I liked kissing him. And the other stuff, too.

We made plans one Thursday night when neither of us were working to get together one last time. I decided to surprise him with a romantic evening, since I had the perfect place all to myself.

It was something I knew I would remember forever...that first feeling of his bare skin. As many times as we’d fooled around, and we’d done an awful lot of groping, we’d always been clothed. I had never done anything like this with Mark. And I had to believe Clayton had never done it either. We moved slowly, knowing we had all night to discover new things about each other. Typically, he’d go straight for my chest, but he focused for a long time on my hips and thighs. And I didn’t wonder for a second if he was thinking they were too fat.

Later, after we’d dried ourselves quickly on the towels I’d stashed on a nearby chair, we ran into the kitchen, Meg at our heels. I gave her a rawhide toy to keep her busy and shared a glass of ice water with Clayton. It felt odd to be doing something as ordinary as standing and talking in a kitchen without our clothes on, but I didn’t think either of us wanted to get dressed again for a while. Towels were enough. Clayton didn’t have much trouble keeping that towel wrapped around those tiny hips of his. I, on the other hand, would have needed a couple more towels to do the job, so I just let mine dangle over my arm. Not that it mattered to either of us at that point. We were so comfortable together, and everything about that night felt perfect. We might have been doing something our parents didn’t want us to do, but we knew it was right.

We both wanted to get the chlorine off of us, and I showed Clayton where the kids’ bathroom was so he could shower. My stuff was already set up in the master bedroom, since I’d slept at the Kleins’ the night before. I left the door to the bedroom wide open so he wouldn’t be shy about walking in on me. I’d already been naked for over an hour, so it’s not like he was going to catch me changing.

As eager as I was to see him again, I ended up dawdling unintentionally in the shower. My mind kept wandering to thoughts of us. Meeting him at the airport when he came home for a visit. Finding a way to go to North Carolina to surprise him for his birthday. Our future together. I loved him so much, and he actually loved me back. I had more than a boyfriend this time. I had a lover.

I scrubbed myself as clean as I could manage before the hot water ran out, ran my fingers through my damp hair to detangle it somewhat, and brushed my teeth. I heard his voice coming from the bedroom. Meg had wandered in and he was talking to her. I smiled, thinking that he and I would have a dog someday, and she’d be daddy’s little girl, and he’d talk to her just like that. Then I heard him scoot her out the door and tell her that we could do without her staring at us. I tried not to laugh, because I didn’t want him to know I’d been listening. I had to compose myself before going in there. He was going to be seeing me, and I had to look good, not like some goofy girl.

By the time I entered the room, he was in the bed. God, he looked incredible. He’d propped himself up on a pillow and put his hands behind his head, the sheet stopping just below his navel. He was wearing nothing but his glasses, with his hair slicked back on his head except for that one piece in the front that never behaved. He gave me a sweet smile, then slid his hand down to the sheet and lifted it, inviting me in beside him. As much as I wanted to jump in there with him, I found myself just staring.

"Clayton. You’re so beautiful. Do you know that?"

His entire body blushed and he dropped the sheet. His other hand slipped from behind his head and scratched his stomach. "Come on, now."

The line of his body was breathtaking. Yeah, he was skinny. Yeah, he was pale and covered in freckles. Yeah, he had red hair. Everywhere. But there was nothing wrong with any of that. This was the boy who caught my eye almost two years ago as he walked into the choir hall...only now he was a man. An incredible man. A man who wanted me. I could feel tears starting to bubble up behind my eyes. "I love you."

My crawling in beside him caused a ripple that raised him up a little. "I hope you don’t mind the waterbed. I slept in it last night, and it’s not so bad."

He rolled over, stretching himself alongside me. "Aren’t waterbeds supposed to be...you know, good for...stuff?"

What a goofball. "That’s what they say. I don’t see how, though. Seems like all the sloshing would just complicate the..." I smiled at him. "...stuff. At least this one seems to be one of those new ‘waveless’ things."

"This is ‘waveless’? I feel like I’m on a raft!" His leg slid over me as he rested his head on his palm. "Oh, speaking of stuff, I, uh...brought something. You know, in case we need it. I had a feeling you were going to take advantage of me tonight, so I wanted to be prepared." His serious look was interrupted by a sudden giggle. "Because you’re like that."

"Good thing you did. It’s not like I was going to be able to get hold of one. And I can’t exactly go to Mom’s doctor to get anything for myself." As long as I was living at home and in college, I was under Dad’s insurance plan. And as long as I was under their plan and their roof, there just wasn’t going to be any of that. Although Dad seemed to be under the impression that I had been "active" for years. No idea when or with whom, but that’s what he thought. I suppose the blonde hair and big tits that got me that bad rep in eighth grade had the same effect on my own family. "I wish I didn’t need to worry about that. It just makes me so nervous, and I can’t stop thinking about how scary it would be if I ended up pregnant..."

He hugged me close, and I curled into him, comforted by the softness of his lightly hairy chest against my face and the smell of the kids' strawberry shampoo he'd used. "Shh...I don’t ever want you to be scared when you’re with me. We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

"But I want to. I want you so much."

"And I want you. Every day. Sometimes it’s all I can think about. But you know what?" He crooked his finger under my chin and brought my face up to look at him. "When we’re together, like we are right now, like we have been since your birthday...everything we do is ‘making love’. I’ve made love to you a hundred times, no matter what other people think. And everything you’ve done...the way you make me feel...oh, Jill…you show me how much you love me every day." He kissed me lightly on my forehead just before I buried my face in his chest again. "And I want to make love to you tonight. Whatever that ends up meaning. Whatever happens, that’s what we're going to do."

And that's exactly what we did. All night.

The next morning, I was awakened by soft kisses on my shoulder. Clayton had snuggled up behind me, and was obviously ready for another go. His hands roamed everywhere as he kissed my neck and upper back, and whenever he reached a new spot, he told me how much he loved it and why. It was as if he'd spent those hours of exploration the night before memorizing my body, and he remembered exactly how each part of me liked to be touched. I swiveled my hips in response until his loving compliments turned to gasps and grunts, peppered with words I'd never heard him say before…words that would earn me a stern look if I'd said them. We relaxed together in a sweaty tangle, trying not to think about how soon he'd be leaving.

We both cried a lot that afternoon. He'd be flying off to college in a few days, and this was the last time I'd see him. We stood in the doorway holding each other for a long time, not wanting our time together to end. I didn't wash the sheets on the bed until right before the Kleins came home, because I wanted to keep his scent with me as long as I could. I even kept the unused "something" that he'd left on the nightstand as a memento, because I'm just that sentimental. Besides, in my mind, I needed to keep it for when we would use it later.

So, he went off to North Carolina and I started up a new semester. We promised each other that we’d stay in touch, and we kept those promises for a couple years. Neither of us had much money for more than the occasional short phone call, but we wrote a lot of letters, keeping each other up to speed on the daily goings-on in our lives.

I told him about my professors, how I'd considered a double major of anthropology and psychology before realizing that I actually wanted to graduate at some point in the foreseeable future, and how my job selling shoes was continuing to reinforce my aversion to feet. He told me about how he’d never dreamed he’d love teaching so much, and that he’d switched during his sophomore year from music education to Special Ed, which made him the second friend I had whose love of teaching was revitalized once they were put in a Special Ed classroom. He told me he was finding ways to keep singing by performing in a local variety show, and how he’d met this great girl in the education department named Melissa.

Now, with all our promises to each other, staying "exclusive" wasn’t one of them. We recognized that we probably wouldn’t see each other for at least a year or more, because his plan was to stay in Charlotte and work when he wasn’t in school, and it wouldn’t have been likely that he’d get to see me if he came home for a brief visit, because of the way his folks felt about me when he left. Plus, they’d already told him that they would use the excuse of him being in North Carolina to go visit family and friends back there, rather than him coming all the way back to Texas, where "nobody" was. So, Clayton and I had agreed that there was nothing wrong with spending time with someone if we liked them. Neither of us would be jealous of time the other spent with somebody else, because that was just the reality of our situation, and it didn’t mean anything. We would always love each other, and when we were finally able to be together, everything would fall into place. We were incredibly grown up and mature about the whole thing.

I could have gone out with someone, but I didn’t. Nobody measured up, and I guess spending hours every day commuting this way and that meant I didn’t have much time to meet anyone interesting. I also wasn’t as approachable and outgoing as Clayton either. But he really liked this girl and was having a lot of fun, and I was happy for him. As long as he kept signing the letters "I love you", I just knew he would come back and we’d pick up where we left off.

I’ll admit that it hurt like hell the first time he mentioned her, but I shook it off. I chalked it up to me being stupid, and just ignored my instincts for months. And for a while, things continued on between us like they always had, only his letters stopped having references to wanting to be with me, reminiscing about our last month together, wanting to hold me and curl up beside me in bed. He was still wonderful and caring and sweet, and he did miss me, but everything below the waist just seemed to stop for him.

I didn’t even realize his tone had changed so drastically until I got that letter. The one where he told me he’d done it. He and Melissa loved each other, and they did it. Clayton had gone on without me. It was bad enough to be a twenty-one-year-old virgin, but now the guy I loved was doing someone else.

As much as I intended to not let it bother me enough to ruin the friendship, I kinda stopped writing to him for a while. I’d get letters saying he missed me and wanted to see me when he came home on break, but I just couldn’t. The longer it took me to respond, the more desperate and pleading his letters became.

Sometimes I’d send him a card, one of those "Thinking Of You" things, and just sign my name. Just so he’d know that I still was. But it made me sick to my stomach every time I went to the mailbox and saw another envelope with his squiggly little writing on it. I always read them, though. Glutton for punishment, I guess.

Then, after about a year, I managed to write him a letter. I told him I wanted him to be happy. I told him I missed him and I'd love him forever. I told him that I understood. But I really didn’t. Not for a while.

There were birthday and Christmas cards for a few years, but those eventually fizzled. His folks still lived in the area, so sometimes my parents would hear news through the grapevine. Last thing I heard was that he was teaching outside of Durham, and living close enough to his grandparents that he could help take care of them as they got older. And he’d gotten married to some legal secretary, but I never heard her name. And the two of them were youth ministers at their church. And he was still singing whenever he got the chance.

As for me, I managed to find some guys to date over the years. Most of them were idiots, so I didn’t keep them around long. I still held out hope, though. I knew that somewhere there would be a good guy for me, because there was once an amazing guy who loved me more than anything in the world. A guy who made me see that I wasn't ugly or too weird for anyone to take seriously. That who I am is perfectly okay.

And then, one day, I found another one.