justin, part one

justin could be nice to me- like the night i scored the goal at the soccer tournament and my face was sunburned and we lay in will's moms bed and he said he had never felt this way before. or when i walked into allen's house in the midst of them playing beer pong and he grabbed me around the waist in front of all of them, wade and michael and jimmy and theo, and kissed me loudly on the cheek. i wouldnt have started dating him if i didnt truly believe those moments had the potential to exist- but i also wouldnt have started dating him if i thought he was the kind of guy who was willing to be that way with everyone. he was indifferent and crass, he was cool and unattainable. he had never dated anyone at altamont. i was a year older than him but he was still more intimidating to pretty much everyone in my senior class than pretty much anyone else in the years before.

it started the night that we won against indian springs. the night that hoodie, erika and i held hands and stood in their bleachers, honestly vowing that if nicky just made that three pointer that would win the game for us, we would change everything bad about ourselves, we would become clean and pure again, if he could only just make that shot. and he did, and we all rushed the court and cried because they had beaten us in our schools gym just a month before, and now we were doing it to them. we were triumphant, entitled, proud. five of us piled into my car and drove to the party at naomi's house, singing to the counting crows and reliving, reliving, reliving. she was the one who always had parties for the special occasions- graduation and new years eve.i walked upstairs and he was leaning up against a pool table with his ankles crossed, consistent with his jordan catalono image, the one that made me swoon and feel small at once. he motioned me over to him, to give him a hug because that night was all about hugs and cheers and beer bongs and loud, red faced guys seeing who could chug it the fastest. all in the name of our victory.

he was obviously on drugs, and i had stopped caring about getting his attention freshman year, when i realized that it was just about everyone else's goal as well. i learned quickly with him, as it is with most men who arent anything but a gilded facade,that the more you arent impressed, the more they have to do to convince you otherwise.

he smelled like gasoline. sweeter than gasoline maybe, but still slightly jarring, slightly intoxicating. my hands were around his neck.

"that was exciting" he said into my hair.

"yep."

i pulled back but he kept his hands around my waist. we had been friends, or the closest thing a girl could be to justin's friend, for years. i was friends with the lesser intimidating guys in the group he hung out with. i watched wrestling and saturday night live with them at will's house, i went to the soccer games and had no curfew. he was looking me in my eyes.

"this feels really good."

i didnt want to ask what that meant. i just wanted it to be the last thing that was said, so that even if the moment dissipated into nothingness that sentence would still exist.

then he kissed me. in front of everyone, as he half sat on the pool table with me in between his legs. the webbing where his forefinger and thumb attach was right under my ear. he was the best kisser that ever was. we stopped and looked at each other. he was all different shades of brown- brown hair that dipped into his tan face, brown melty eyes framed by long brown eyelashes. to my right, on the couch by the door, krista sat. krista, who flirted with everyone, who had kissed him regularly for years; krista, who was supposedly one of my best friends but who i never fully believed. krista, with her bow legs and straight dirty blond hair, with her big boobs and flat stomach. krista, who we still dont think ever deserved the heartbreak she caused. she shook her head and mouthed the word "no." i looked back at him.

"want to go somewhere else?"

"yes."