Than to Have Never Loved at All

Cemetery

The first thing I ever did that made my heart swirl into my throat was sneak out of my house and walk through Everette Cemetery at midnight.

Nat dared me to.

I stepped on a stick halfway through and bolted to the other side with my stomach somewhere in my feet. I crashed into Nat's arms, feeling like I was dying and flying. I was definitely screaming.

Finn and I were heading back to that cemetery.

"What if you got a boyfriend?" Finn asked as we tromped up the hill. He didn't say "or a girlfriend," because I had never found women particularly interesting, so we had long ago written me off as straight.

"Why?" I asked.

"For the One-Acts," Finn said. "as research."

Finn was a scientist through and through. Where I took extra classes in English and every measly theater class our school had to offer Finn was burning his way through AP science classes like an arsonist at a gas station.

"You want me to do research for the One-Acts by dating a random boy?" I asked, "Just like spin around in gym class and date the first person I point to?"

"Doesn't have to be gym," Finn shrugged. "You're more of an English or art class girl anyway."

I steered us onto the thin gravel path that went up to the cemetery and held back a list of reasons why that was a bad idea. I fully ignored the list of reasons it was a good one. I was sixteen and had never even been kissed. Neven had a boyfriend and honestly never really thought about it. For the most part I had better things to do. It was becoming increasingly obvious that I needed one though. Nat always pressed life experiences as the main form of currency for college life, and maybe she was right. Maybe I did need to step out a little and try something new.

My feet were cold as we crunched up the gravel path. Winter was coming way too quickly. The sun was going down at an absurdly early hour.

I didn't want to think about boys.

"When's Nat's plane landing?" I asked.

"What about Patrick Langly?" Finn said, ignoring my bait.

"No," I said. "Redheads scare me." I couldn't believe I was even thinking about it.

"You can't say 'no' because of someone's hair color."

"What can I say no for?"

Finn thought for a second then said, "Personality?"

"I think he drew that really disturbing bloody Picasso thing in middle school," I said. "Does that count as personality?"

"Fine." Finn pulled a pack of Red Vines out of our shopping bag and peeled a few out of the packet. He waved one at me. I took it, distracted for a moment.

Our school district was small, and we'd all been together since kindergarten, which made the dating pool kind of tiny and terrifying. We knew everyone's dark secrets. Their bad hair cuts from elementary school, and their worse smells in middle.

"Nathan Wilson," Finn's next suggestion was said through a mouthful of licorice. He stopped walking when he remembered, "Wait, never mind. He cheated on Kathrine Woods."

"How do you know that?"

"Nat and Hal gossip hour," Finn said. "Hannah Price?"

"She's a she and a drummer," I countered.

"In the marching band!"

I kicked a piece of gravel into the thin line of trees that grew up around the graveyard. I could see the headstones now, and fear was pricking at my skin. In an effort to ignore it I decided to played into Finn's game.