Senior year, Gracie was in love with a broody boy at her high school. He was quiet, with dark blond hair that was close cropped, a body honed by years as a competitive gymnast, and eyes of a vibrant green. His smile was soft, and Gracie smiled back every time she saw his picture gazing up from her desktop. Gracie murmured, "Bryan," a name that would continue to bring her comfort in years to come, as their tumultuous, loving relationship remained as steadfast in her memory as his phone number, the only number besides her own that Gracie kept tucked away, her mind insisting that she might need it again someday.
Their relationship lasted--on and off--for almost three years. Gracie was sweet, lighting up his days, and Bryan was steady with a hint of that rebellious nature that gave her a delicious thrill. But they often fought, about all kinds of topics, like how she was just a little bit taller than him or how he was an underachiever to her success alongside the academic elite.
Mostly they fought about sex. He wanted it. Badly. He even used the classic line, "I just want to show you how much I love you." Bryan's home life was stable but cold, and he looked to his physical relationship with Gracie as a way to fulfill his desire for connection and affirmation. But she wanted to wait, worried about moving too fast at only 18 years old, and so they fought, Bryan feeling rejected and Gracie feeling like Bryan would only care for her if she put out. At least they had a reprieve at night, when his ADHD medicine put him to sleep, leaving him and Gracie unable to fight on the phone after 10pm most nights.
Despite their problems, Gracie and Bryan were madly in love, in the way that teenagers so often are. They were infatuated, meeting in the hall between each class for a quick kiss, texting each other nonsense just to see the other's name pop up on their phones, and spending every last dollar earned from odd jobs to spend time together doing something special or coax a precious smile from their partner's lips.
One such evening was in April, a few weeks after Bryan got his driver's license. He told Gracie that he was taking her somewhere special, a surprise. His enormous, burgundy pick up truck pulled into her driveway shortly after dinner. As she left the house, Gracie could hear his footsteps crunching on the gravel as he rushed around the truck to open her door in a rare and warmly appreciated token of chivalry. Gracie had offhandedly mentioned wanting to go to a flea market to Bryan, so he found one for her and spent a single dollar buying her a hair tie with a beautiful white rose on the top, which she wore proudly like a corsage on her wrist for the rest of the date.
The sun had set by the time the pair made their way out of the market, clutching hands, and Bryan said he had another surprise for her, a special place where they could watch the stars. This time he took her to their high school, where the emptied lot gave the place a sacred feel, infused with the whirling energy Gracie always got from being at their beloved school. The sky was clear, the stars bright, as Bryan led Gracie to the bed of his truck. And despite the grooves of the truck bed digging into her back, Gracie breathed a contented sigh as she nestled into her partner's shoulder.
The young adults were about to graduate high school before their physical relationship truly changed. During one of their stints broken up, Gracie had begun exploring her sexuality with another man, who helped her get to know her own body and appreciate another's, and she was more than ready to discover that side of her first love, Bryan, when they got back together.
They were walking near her house one day when she pushed him back into a private alcove with a tall fence, her body immediately pressing into his as the scent of each other overtook the aroma of the freshly cut grass surrounding them. His hands roamed across her back, pulling her close eagerly but with restraint that was built from years of not being able to further the embrace into something more intimate.
