For the First Time

Prologue

I came over here with news. Possibly the biggest news I’ve had to share since I designed my first main stage set in college. But yet again, something is upstaging me. What I have to say is no longer the most important topic to discuss. My internship is nowhere near as big as the life-changing offer my boyfriend just made.

And like most major discussions we have, it’s turned into an argument.

“What do you want from me? I love you, Ally. But we’ve been in the same place for a year. I need this to be going forward or what the hell’s the point?”

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms in front of me. “Moving in is a big step, Wes. I need to think about it.”

“You mean you need Sierra’s opinion,” he shoots back. “While you’re at it, make sure Chris chimes in too.”

“Seriously? You say you want to move forward with me but you keep bringing up the same old shit.”

“They’re way too involved in our relationship. You can’t run to them every time you have a decision to make. You need to start deciding things for yourself.”

“They’re my best friends, Wesley.”

“They’re anchors, Ally.”

I subconsciously run my fingers across the envelope in my jacket pocket, knowing full well the person who is truly keeping me here, holding me down. I look up at my boyfriend, the man I love, and fully take in his dark, curly hair that needed a haircut about a month ago. I stare into his light green eyes, a few shades lighter than mine, that are surrounded by thick, dark eyebrows and high cheekbones. He’s only a couple inches taller than me when we’re both standing, but when I lean back like this, he towers over me. His toned body, formed by countless hours in the gym, stands about two feet away from me and I can smell his cologne from here. That was one of the first things that attracted me to him, the way he smells. I know it’s from a bottle of something or other, but it’s why I stopped and helped him find the right room in the theatre building last year. He later told me that he was just looking for an excuse to talk to me. I told him that all he would’ve really had to do was stand close and say hi. The corner of my mouth turns up at the memory and my body begins to relax.

Pulling me out of my perusal of him, he adds, “They’re probably the reason you won’t put out, too.”

He says it accusingly, as if I can’t make decisions myself, and something in me snaps. I shoot straight up in my chair. Any sense of calm I may have been feeling completely evaporates.

“Jesus, Wesley, they have nothing to do with that and you know it,” I argue, trying to keep my temper at bay. When we fight, we fight clean, but that’s not to say the urge to get ugly doesn’t come up every now and then.

“Since we’re already fucking arguing, why don’t we bring that up too, then,” he says, basically ignoring me. “If it’s not Sierra and Chris, what is it? You love me, or so you say, I know you’re attracted to me, and you’re twenty-two fucking years old. What the hell is stopping you?”

“So you need me to drop my best friends, fuck you, move in with you… Do I have any say in this, or would you prefer to make my decisions for me?”

H exhales loudly and scratches through the curls over his ear. I sigh, seeing his retreat and knowing neither of us wants a fight right now. He sits down across from me, leaning over the table to take my hand in his. “You need to decide what’s best for you and for us. I want you here. The only thing I need from you is an answer - do you want to be here?”

__________

I leave Wesley’s apartment a couple hours later with the letter still in my pocket. My big announcement thwarted by his bigger one, his desire to change my address. We graduated yesterday, I got my letter in the mail, and he wants to commit to me even more than he already has.