Page 1 of Fifty First Times (Sharing You 0.40)
The Corner of First and Second
GENNIFER ALBIN
WALKING INTO A high school kegger was as close to being a goddess as I’d ever get, because nothing parted the sea of my drunk-ass former peers like the arrival of someone who had gotten the hell out of Beauford, Texas. Someone who had done that should be venerated, since it was no small feat.
Especially for a girl.
So I strutted through the crowd in my knee-high suede boots and a way-too-short checked skirt from Anthropologie, thankful that a finished semester at UCLA had garnered me some confidence along with a closetful of my roommate’s castoffs. I was probably the only person in the room whose wardrobe wasn’t one hundred percent courtesy of Kmart.
In this moment, it didn’t matter that I’d spent the previous four years with my nose stuck in a book, or that I hadn’t been on the cheerleading squad—one of the three extracurriculars deemed appropriate for girls as Title IX had never gotten past the school board’s iron curtain. Beauford was a small town, so I knew everyone and everyone knew me, but I wasn’t the type that got drunk on the weekends or the girl who climbed into the bed of her boyfriend’s truck. It was exactly my lack of notoriety that got me out of Texas in the first place and made me a legend tonight. Only two people in our graduating class had succeeded in landing tickets out of town. It was a record year for Beauford High School.
“Jacqueline Kelly!” A blond mop of hair attacked me with such force that I nearly fell over.
“Tasha,” I said, laughing as I peeled myself off her. “You’re going to kill me.”
“I’m not the one wearing sex-me-up boots.” She fanned herself dramatically as she linked her arm through mine and dragged me toward the back patio. It was unoccupied save for a few stoners who fled as soon as Tasha glared at them. Even though it was December, it was still warm enough in South Texas to sit outside, but someone had built a fire in the fire pit for good measure. “You look incredible. Chic and sophisticated. You’re a woman of the world.”
I tugged at my jean jacket self-consciously. It was one thing to walk into a room of near strangers and feel like the center of the universe, but sitting here with one of the few friends I’d left behind, I was suddenly aware of how much had changed and how much hadn’t. “I don’t know about that.”
“Whatever,” Tasha said. “California looks good on you. Although I have no clue why you came back to good ole Buttford.”
“Christmas, remember?” A snort escaped my nose as I tried to hold down a giggle.
We’d coined that word “Buttford” when we were five, and it still made me laugh. Trust Tasha to remind me of exactly who I was within five minutes of seeing her. She was that type—the girl who put everyone at ease. And fifty years from now she’d still be in Beauford. Girls like Tasha were the heart of small towns like ours. Something always caught them young, growing roots so deep that there was no hope of transplant.
“Where’s Jesse?” I asked her.
Tasha shrugged, but her face lit up a little. Tasha’s face had been lighting up for Jesse Buchanan since third grade. Jesse was Tasha’s root system. “Around here somewhere, acting like a damned fool, I’m sure.”
That sounded about right.
“Want a drink?”
She laughed at me, but she stopped when I stared at her in confusion. Tasha had been the get-drunk-on-the-weekends type. For a second her face mirrored mine before she squealed and grabbed my hand. “What am I thinking?” she exclaimed. “You’ve been gone. Jesse and I ran off to Oklahoma! It’s the Las Vegas of the Midwest.”
That was when I saw the glint of silver on her left hand. Nothing about Jesse Buchanan and Tasha Barnes running off together should surprise me, but I couldn’t quite attach reality to the idea. I had a married friend?
I had a married friend.
Question, statement of fact—it didn’t seem to matter. My biggest decision to make at the moment was whether to stay on the university meal plan. Tasha had actually vowed to stay with the same person for the rest of her life.
I really needed that drink.
“Congrats! I think that deserves a toast,” I managed to mumble.
“Maybe it does, but—” Tasha patted her belly.
“Ohmigod!” I blinked at her, my eyes flashing from her face to the hand resting on her stomach to her face again, waiting for her to say it.
“I’m due in April,” she told me as the strangest smile settled onto her face. She looked like one of those paintings of the Madonna hanging in a gallery.
“That’s awesome!” I gave her a quick hug around the shoulders and muttered a jumbled be-right-back.
I’d been gone for five months and a girl I’d played kickball with at recess was married and knocked up. I was definitely back in Beauford, Texas.
