Firsts by Laurie Elizabeth Flynn Page B

friend,” he says. “I know it’s Friday and I’m breaking the rules, but I thought you could use a pick-me-up.” He hands me a Styrofoam cup.
    “Thanks,” I say, wondering how he can be this happy so early in the morning. Besides, where did he come from? There’s no evidence of a car parked nearby. I realize I not only don’t know where Zach lives, but I also have no idea how he gets to school every day.
    “Where are you off to?” he says as I pull the door shut. “I thought we could have breakfast.”
    I push up my sleeve and glance at my watch. I’m early for my tutoring session. I could probably squeeze in a session upstairs with Zach. It would certainly overshadow Don Wannabe, and I’d feel much more like myself after.
    “Do you want to go upstairs?” I say. “I’m doing a tutoring thing at school in a bit, but I have time for a quickie if you’re fast.” I start to dig around in my purse for my house keys with my free hand, but Zach stops me. When I look up, I’m surprised at the rut between his eyebrows, like he’s thinking super hard about something.
    “Or we could just hang out,” he says. “Maybe walk to school together.” He shrugs.
    I swallow the laugh rising in my throat. “Walk to school? It’s, like, two miles,” I say. “But come on—I’ll drive us.”
    Zach has been in the Jeep before, but only in the backseat. He looks strange sitting up front, with his knees pressed into the dashboard. I suddenly realize how infrequently I have passengers in the Jeep. I don’t know what that says about me.
    “Do you usually walk to school?” I ask after I do up my seat belt. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to take them back. It’s none of my business, and I don’t want to make Zach’s business mine.
    But he’s already nodding and smiling like some goofy bobblehead. “Yeah. I mean, my mom drives me when she can, and sometimes I borrow her car, but I hate to put her out. Besides, all that walking does wonders for my glutes.”
    I smile without meaning to. I never thought I would hear Zach say the word glutes . Now he looks like he wants to keep talking. This happens all the time with him. I say one thing that veers out of our regular bedroom territory and he gloms onto it. I should know better.
    There’s one way that I know to shut him up.
    I strain against my seat belt until our faces are an inch apart and press my lips onto his. I suck gently on his top lip, then his bottom one, until he stirs uncomfortably.
    “Coffee,” he says weakly. “It’s, uh, spilling on my lap.”
    “Sorry,” I say, pulling away and starting the car and pretending nothing weird is going on. The Zach I know wouldn’t pass up a kiss from me for anything, even spilled coffee.
    The Zach I know doesn’t show up at my house unannounced, either. He sticks to the time and date. Or so I thought.
    “So, tutoring, huh?” Zach says, taking a sip of his coffee. “That’s cool. But I could never get you to tutor me.”
    I peel out of the driveway and back over part of the curb in the process. Zach swears under his breath. “Shit,” he says. “I just burned my mouth. Has anyone ever told you you’re a crazy driver?”
    “No,” I say, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “Just that I’m a wild ride.” I laugh and expect Zach to laugh with me. Maybe he will change his mind and want to pull over somewhere and get in the backseat after all.
    But he doesn’t pay any attention to my sexual innuendo. “So why won’t you tutor me?” he says. “I never knew you tutored other people. It’s like you’re cheating on me.”
    I sigh exaggeratedly loudly. “You got me,” I say. “I’m stepping out on you.”
    “Seriously,” he says. “Am I a lost cause or something?”
    His words hang in the air, along with the smell of spilled coffee. I know he’s talking about chemistry, but is that all he’s talking about?
    “Of course not,” I say. “But I think you have it pretty good. You get