A Piece of Heaven (Allendale Four 1)

For Coco who fights the fight every day.

“So, the guys,” he said, looking over at the group of knuckle-headed boys surrounding the bonfire, “think I’m a virgin.”

I stared at him for a minute, trying to follow his logic.

“They do,” he insisted. His tone was a little desperate. His dark brown eyes were really desperate.

“Justin,” I said. “You are a virgin. Welcome to the club.”

“Shhh!” he hushed me. “They could hear you.”

“Dude, they know!” I yell-whispered back. “It’s not a big deal. Losing your V-card takes time, you know.”

At least, it had for me. I was picky. So sue me.

He moved off the log next to me and settled in the sand at my feet. His big hands wrapped around my calves as he rested his chin on my knees. “It’s embarrassing. They talk about sex all the time and I’m just…I don’t know. Not ready.”

“That’s fair. You shouldn’t feel pressured to do something you don’t want to.”

“Right,” he said, eyes darting to the ground. “It’s just that this community isn’t very open-minded and I haven’t exactly figured out where I fall, identity-wise. I’d rather wait to make any major announcements.”

Justin was my best friend. He lived in a small residential community near the beach. Traditional. Old. Kind of poor. Pretty religious. I felt bad for him because I knew how stifling it could be to live here. I barely survived it myself when my parents lived in Oceanside. I had the chance to get out when my parents divorced. The scrutiny by some of the locals was so bad after my dad bailed and left me and my mom on our own.

We tried staying in Oceanside. Like, really tried, but this was my dad’s hometown, and when he left and the rumors started and I wasn’t doing so well…

Yeah, we didn’t last long before moving one town over, hoping for a fresh start.

Things weren’t much better there. We were still kind of poor but at least people didn’t talk about how we were sinners and what my mom did to run off my dad. It was better, even though I never quite fit in socially. Which is why, as soon as I got my license I started coming back to Oceanside to hang with my only real friend.

I sighed and stared at Justin, thinking life shouldn’t be this hard. People should be free to be who they are, love who they want, experiment on their own terms. Right?

Justin always stuck by my side, and I wanted to pay him back. He helped me through my rough spot and never told anyone my secret. Shouldn’t I help him keep his?

“Well, what are you going to do?” I asked.

He looked up with puppy dog eyes and pushed out his bottom lip. “Well, I had this idea...”

I narrowed my eyes and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. “What kind of idea?”

He lifted his eyebrows suggestively, “I thought maybe you and me…we could, you know...fake it?”

I pulled back. “Fake what? Because look, Justin, I love you and all, but I draw the line at being your fake girlfriend. In fact, I drew the line years ago being your real girlfriend.”

There was a while, around fifth grade, where I had a super big crush on Justin. Why not? He was cute, tall, and had the best smile. He wasn’t a jerk like the other boys in class. But I never acted on it. He was my best friend and I thought he had a crush on me, too. Then he asked me to the fifth-grade dance and later if I wanted to be his girlfriend. Despite my crush, I said no. It felt wrong. The risk was too high.

He chuckled nervously and tightened his fingers around the denim covering my legs. “No, not that. What if you like, kissed me or something? In public. To get the guys off my back.” He ducked his head. I wondered if he thought I was going to hit him.

“You want me to kiss you?” I’d kissed Justin before, when we were thirteen, and even then, only on a dare from Paul. I looked across the beach at Paul, who had his tongue shoved down the throat of some girl with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Fucking horndog. No one cared who he kissed, even if it was a different girl every week. His dad was an elder in the church. Everyone looked the other way.

“Or something,” he mumbled into my knees, bringing my attention back to him.

“What do you mean ‘or something’?” I had a horrible feeling in my stomach, because if a fake kiss was all he wanted, he would have just asked. We could get this over with now.