Knee Deep: New Love, #1

By Jolene Perry

A broken heart. A best friend. A first love.

Shawn is the guy Ronnie Bird promised her life to at the age of fourteen. He's her soul mate. He's more uptight every day, but it's not his fault. His family life is stressful, and she's adding to it. She just needs to be more understanding, and he'll start to be the boy she fell in love with. She won't give up on someone she's loved for so long.

Luke is her best friend, and the guy she hangs with to watch girlie movies in her large blanketopias. He's the guy she can confide in before she even goes to her girlfriends, and the guy who she's playing opposite in Romeo and Juliet. Now her chest flutters every time he gets too close. This is new. Is Ronnie falling for him? Or is Juliet? The lines are getting blurry, but leaving one guy for another is not something that a girl like Ronnie does.

Shawn's outbursts are starting to give her bruises, and Luke's heart breaks as Ronnie remains torn. While her thoughts and feelings swirl around the lines between friendship and forever, she's about to lose them both.

This novel now has bonus content at the end! Check the table of contents ;-)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jolene Perry
• Release date: Mar 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393032052

Book preview

Chapter 1

Guilt pricks at me as I lie in bed and listen for Shawn’s motorcycle. Why does he wind me up like this? Why do I let him? Part of me is filled with irritation over lying awake and waiting, and another part of me can’t wait to spend time with him in the middle of the night. He’s running late, and if he’s much later, my morning’s really going to suck.

Just as I’m about to give up and allow my body to relax into sleep, I hear his bike roar past my house, filling the neighborhood with the sound of his new muffler.

I sit up and rub my hands up and down my stomach a few times, trying to dispel some of the nervous tingling that’s always part of sneaking out— no matter how many times I do it.

The problem is that it throws me off when we argue, even when it’s minor. How am I supposed to go to sleep with weirdness between us? One little comment about him and his dad being total workaholics made him all quiet. I know he’s not mad—it’s just that there’s this thing hanging between us, and I want it gone before I try to sleep.

I slide out of bed, and don’t bother changing from my plaid pajama pants and tank top. It also seems silly to bother with a bra. One, I barely need it anyway and, two, I’m hoping to be back under my covers as soon as we get our little argument straightened out.

I tiptoe down the hall, grab my flip-flops, stuff my massive amount of red hair into a ponytail, and walk quietly out the front door. No crawling through windows required—not with my parents, who sleep like the dead. Which actually begs the question of why doesn’t he come this way more often?

I’m out of the house and into the cool California night air. One step down. I drop my sandals, slide my feet in and start walking. Only a few more minutes.

Ronnie, someone whispers.

I jump, bringing both hands to my pounding chest, which suddenly feels very bra-less, even though I’m covered in a black tank.

His sandy blond hair appears first through the darkness.

Luke. I breathe a sigh of relief, my heart slowly returning to normal. What are you doing out here? Not that I’m surprised, Luke’s always up to something…or someone.

I could ask you the same thing. He smirks as I step next to him. His shaggy hair hangs down over his eyes. He’s in flip-flops, a SpongeBob t-shirt, and tattered shorts—like always. We slowly start up the sidewalk together.

The three of us have been close for years.

When Shawn moved back last year, he and Luke picked up where they left off, as best friends. And Shawn and I picked up where we left off—as something a lot more than friends.

I kinda screwed up today and made Shawn feel bad. I wrinkle my nose.

So now you’re going to feel him up to make it all better? he teases.

My cheeks turn hot—sex is something I tease Luke about, but he’s never teased me before.

Oh, come on, you guys have been together forever. Does that really embarrass you? He wings his elbow out to softly bump my arm.

Of course it does, but I’m not sure I want to tell him that.

Wait. Luke rests his hand on my arm stopping us on the sidewalk. You two haven’t…? His head is low, trying to catch my gaze.

Its just Luke, right? I shake my head but still don’t make eye contact.

We stand in silence for so long I start to worry I just messed up somehow.

His hand drops, and he sighs. Cris and I split.

My head snaps up. You really liked her, huh? I ask.

I did. He nods. When he exhales, there’s a hint of frustration. She was right. My attention was divided.

I slide my arm through his as we slowly start to walk again. Luke’s attention is probably always divided.

With who? I bump him with my hip. I’m curious to know which girl I have to make myself like before we’re all hanging out together.

It’s not important. His voice is still low and quiet.

Hey. Are you okay? I use my arm in his to pull us together, and I love that he feels good like this. Walking, talking, easy…it makes me realize how tense I was just getting out of my house. Guess that, too, has become part of my routine.

I’m fine. And someone,—he gestures with his chin toward Shawn’s house—is waiting for you.

I suck in a breath as the tension builds back up. Maybe Luke would have an idea as to what’s been going on with Shawn.

Spit it out, Ronnie. Even in the dark I can see him rolling his brown eyes, but I can also see his dimples. He’s teasing.

Now I’m not sure how to say it, or if it’ll all come out weird. It should be easy, right? This is Luke. We can talk. Even about Shawn. Has Shawn seemed…

Stressed? he offers.

Yeah. The word comes out in a rush of breath and my shoulders fall. Luke’s noticed the added tension in Shawn too. It’s not just my imagination. This brings me some hope that Shawn’s moodiness is just a temporary thing.

He works too hard—like his dad. I know it’s been rough since they moved back. Shawn’s mom is the one that really wanted the move. I think it’s causing problems, but Shawn doesn’t talk about it much.

To me either. I want to say that it’s more than that, but it’s not even something I can put into words.

He’s tighter than he’s ever been—tighter with words, with time, body language—it feels like something’s different, but he just keeps avoiding the subject. You’re a girl, he says, and are probably seeing things that aren’t there. Then we start kissing and our conversation is forgotten.

But how am I supposed to help him if he won’t talk about what’s going on? And that’s what girlfriends and boyfriends do.

Sorry about Cris. I put my arms around him and hug him tightly.

Luke smells like coconut and sandalwood. All things that bring me straight back to the beach house Mom and Dad rent every year. I breathe in deep and wonder if he smells like this on purpose, or if it’s just part of being Luke.

My hands run over the effects of hours of surfing over the summer as I pull away from our hug. When did you start feeling so good? I tease.

He rubs his palms up and down his abs and grins. It’s how I get the ladies.

We stare at one another. My chest tightens, a totally new feeling around Luke, and I wonder if he has something else to say.

Silence. One beat. Two beats. My breathing stops.

Night, Ronnie. He gives me a half wave before continuing down the sidewalk.

Night. And I can’t bring my feet to move. I just stand and watch him go.

Silence with Luke? Tingly, and weird.

I suck in a breath as I turn to Shawn’s. Okay. I can do this. Easy. There’s a routine for coming here late at night. I move quietly around the left side of the house, take the key from the bird feeder, and unlock the gate. Then I put the key back just where I found it. There’s no easy way to go in through Shawn’s window, even though their house is only one floor. I tap a few times on the corner of his window and wait.

As stressful as this routine can be, I love that we have it. His return tap hits me in the chest, and pulls my face into a smile. Just like every time

Now I sit and wait. He’ll either open the back door and let me in, or if his parents are awake, he’ll join me in the backyard.

I slump down in one of the soft, cushioned lawn chairs by the small pool.

The surface of the water ripples with the breeze, spreading goose bumps up my legs and arms.

My heart does the same little flip-thump it always does as the glass door slides open and Shawn’s broad form fills the doorway. He’s still in his work polo and khakis, and runs a hand through his short, dark hair as he strolls into the backyard.

I was beginning to think you weren’t coming, he says. His voice is low and smooth, and his skin is dark from the sun—all things that are such a part of my life that I sometimes forget how hot he is.

Wait. He was beginning to think I wasn’t coming? What? I’m confused. We hadn’t talked about me coming over. I just knew he was upset.

You’re so predictable, Ronnie. His white smile spreads, accentuating his straight jaw. If there’s any weirdness, you have this need to fix it. It usually takes you about five minutes after my garage door closes. He sits next to me, pressing our sides together. Which is really great until I remember that I feel totally played.

Does he cause little arguments on purpose so I’ll come over? Lose sleep? It suddenly seems completely unfair. Why isn’t he the one coming to my house?

Don’t do that face. His fingers smooth out my brow and run down my cheek, sending shivers across my back and down my spine. I love you, Ronnie. I rely on you. I know you. That’s a good thing.

My body relaxes again with his words. He’s right. We know each other. We rely on each other. It is a good thing. It’s the one thing that brings me more comfort than anything else. We’ve known each other since we were kids. There’s history, memories, and a lot to look forward to.

You’re still pouting. That’s cute. His lips touch the corner of my mouth. I love your brown eyes in the dark, he whispers.

I ignore his last comment because I really think he’s just trying to suck up. I’m pouting because I feel stupid. Why don’t you come to my house?

Because my parents are up until all hours and would notice my absence. Yours won’t. His lips slide across my cheek…under my ear.

I know this and really should stop bringing it up. But when I’m leaving my house and it’s all dark and quiet, it feels like he should be there. His lips continue to move across my skin. My chest flutters, making it hard to breathe in such an amazing way— like the feeling of near suffocation would be the best thing ever.

Now his fingers trace my collarbone. Yet another thing that makes my body shiver every time.

See? He chuckles quietly. Your body wants me… even if you don’t. I know that’s how he wants to finish the sentence.

I pull away. Does every conversation have to be like this? Just when we’re all back to perfect and normal? His eyes aren’t on me. They’re on my chest. He slides his arm around my side and reclines the chair we’re sitting in.

You’re not wearing a bra, he whispers in my ear.

Because I was trying to go to sleep. I try to keep annoyance in my voice, but as he touches me, lying so close, I’m smiling. I love feeling wanted this way—quietly, softly. This is all the things I love about Shawn. I let my leg rest over his as our kiss deepens. On the lounge chair, with the sound of palm fronds clacking in the breeze, everything disappears but us.

WHEN I WAS TWELVE…

…Shawn built a dam in our creek after watching that old Stephen King movie, IT. It made our picnic spot even more magical. He went all out. Or his mom did, one of the two. We each had a peanut butter and banana sandwich (both our favorite), apple slices (my favorite), and colored mini-marshmallows (his favorite). He even brought his mom’s checkered blanket.

I loved every teeny tiny bit of it. It was the first year I’d noticed him as more than a friend. The first year I watched his lips and wondered what it would be like to feel them against mine. The first year I noticed how other girls looked at him. It was also the first year that when I screamed about boys having cooties, I didn’t really mean it.

It was the year of my first kiss. He tasted like marshmallows. He saved the kiss for last. He was about to leave for the summer house with his parents, and said he would miss me a lot and wanted to do something special. He thought the coolest girl in the world needed the best day and the most perfect spot for her first kiss.

I will never forget that day.

Chapter 2

I slide on the dress I spent all summer working for, making sure the slim straps slide just right over my white tank. The high, snug waist makes me look like I might have actual boobs, which is sort of a miracle. The blue and green silk brushes on the tops of my feet as I step outside into the warm sun.

You and your hippie dresses. Shawn shakes his head as he walks up my driveway. He’s in a linen button up, white tee, leather shoes and pants. We dress on opposite ends of the fashion spectrum (at least for California), but it’s one of the things I love about him.

It’s boho, I correct with a smile, giving him a peck on the lips, which turns into more. And at least I didn’t wear the sandals that I could have gotten. Our faces are so close I can still smell toothpaste and aftershave. Gucci and Crest. It’s all Shawn. All familiar.

Heels, right? he asks, a tinge of irritation in his voice. Are you seriously going to knock my height on the first day of school?

I’m not knocking your height. It’s you who doesn’t like me being taller. I smirk. I drool over the wooden and cork wedges I love so much, but it makes Shawn uncomfortable when I’m taller than him. We’re both five feet, nine inches, with no shoes.

I get it, him being the guy and all, but it’s just height, and just inches. I’d think that once in a while it wouldn’t be such a big deal. But in the end, it’s really not worth him being in a bad mood. And it is just shoes.

His face flattens. Hmmm. He turns away and starts to walk toward the school.

Wait. Is he really this mad? I reach out for his arm, but his whole body tenses.

He spins around, his jaw tight, and glares. I step back, jerking my arm away. What’s going on with him? The side of me that’s been worried kicks into high gear, sending my heart racing.

Shawn! Ronnie! Luke waves from just up the street.

I jump at the sound of someone’s voice cutting through this awkward moment.

Luke‘s wearing some red vintage Atari t-shirt, shorts that look like they need replacing, and flip-flops. Seriously, his mom’s in real estate and has more money than both our families put together, but he dresses like a bum.

Both of you. Shawn shakes his head. Both of you look like you just stepped out of nineteen seventy-eight. His shoulders slump down and he starts to walk again, but relaxed this time. Better.

I give Luke a high-five, just because I know it’ll bring another eye-roll from Shawn, and hope that joking around will keep him loosened up. Atari wasn’t around in nineteen seventy-eight, I say. I don’t think.

Is that the dress? The one you wanted to make sure you could get? Luke asks.

You’ve been paying attention. I put my arm around Shawn. It’s nice to know that someone appreciates my dresses. I kiss Shawn’s cheek.

I appreciate dresses. Shawn pulls me close, but his hand is rougher than I expect. The length just seems like an awful waste of fabric.

You are unbelievable. I kiss him again, anything to get him to relax.

You know it, babe, he teases.

We share a smile, and I guess the weirdness is gone. Or at least better.

Alright, you two. Luke chuckles. Can we head to school now?

Right. The first day of my last year of high school. Crazy.

I’d never admit out loud to how much I love being back in school, but I love being back in school. It smells like new ink from unopened textbooks, and everyone’s in their favorite new clothes. It all just adds up to a fresh start.

Shawn’s hand is in mine and I’m up on my tiptoes trying to find Mindy. I haven’t seen her since she got home from spending the summer with her dad way down in San Diego. Finally, I catch sight of her short blond curls.

Mindy! I wave over the students in the hallway.

Her dress is shaped just like mine—small straps, high waist. Hers is the length of a tunic only she’s wearing nothing under it, and she has on the most delicious green wedge sandals I’ve ever seen. Heels. I let out a wistful sigh.

Ronnie! Her petite form runs up the hall toward me, despite her tall shoes, and we grab each other in a rib-crushing hug.

See? Shawn points down. They make your hippie dresses short.

Mindy rolls her eyes, and her gaze rests right back on me. Is he still on about that?

Apparently. I let out a breath of disgust, pretending to be annoyed.

Well, we’re going to have to ditch these boys so we can catch up. Her bright blue eyes shine and her grin is mischievous.

Agreed.

And before I can form a protest, she’s dragging me through the halls and away from Shawn. He’s frowning behind me, but Mindy’s excitement is contagious, so I just smile in return.

The excitement of our first day back at school is sort of wearing off with our first night of homework. My pack is heavy, and Shawn’s doesn’t look all that much lighter.

You ditched me today. Shawn’s voice is all pouty. As if maybe I somehow misunderstood the body language he’s used since walking out of school. Not looking at me, not squeezing my hand…

What are you talking about? I watch my toes peek out from under my dress, something I never get tired of seeing.

Running off with Mindy, and then talking to the drama coach at lunch. I mean, we’re dating. We should actually look like we’re together.

I hate it when he’s sulky like this. I haven’t seen Mindy all summer.

Well, I have to work this afternoon. You two could have caught up then. His voice is clipped and short.

She is coming over this afternoon. I smirk to try and show that we’re not in an argument, but half of me feels like we are. Boys just don’t understand how much time it takes girls to catch up. But Shawn’s whole body is as tight as it was this morning.

You two share more than half your classes. I mean, you guys sat down at the end of last year to plan your schedules. I can feel him looking at me, but continue to watch my toes peeking out from under my dress.

And you were in the same room, and could have joined in. I keep my voice relaxed. There’s no reason for him to be upset.

It just sometimes seems like… never mind. He shakes his head.

I hate never mind. It’s like—oh yeah, that thing I wanted to say? You’re just not important enough for me to actually say it. What does ‘never mind’ mean? I ask.

It’s not a big deal, Ronnie. We stop at the end of my driveway, finally making eye contact, only I have no idea what I should be doing to change the frowny way he’s looking at me.

Fine. Now it’s my turn to be irritated. You coming in? And it makes me crazy having stuff left hanging in the air, but at the same time I don’t think we’ll get anywhere right now.

My need for us to be okay probably has more to do with my dad being a shrink than anything else, but still. Weirdness in a relationship should make anyone crazy. And I’m worried about him. Today is a perfect example of how weird he’s been. The smallest things set him off, and that’s not like Shawn. Something’s going on. Probably we won’t actually get this sorted out until he decides to tell me what it is. The problem is…I’m still not sure how to ask.

Gotta work, remember? He’s trying to make his voice sound normal, even though it really doesn’t. This is what he does when he doesn’t want to talk.

You know I hate separating like this. I push my lip out into a frown.

We’ll talk later. If I have time. He kisses my cheek and walks away. Dad and I have sound systems to sell and radios to install.

My chest drops. No, wait. Shawn! After last night you and I both know if you walk away I’m going to have to find a way to sneak over tonight and…

And that’s a bad thing? A corner of his mouth pulls up as he looks at me over his shoulder.

How do I answer? I can’t say it’s a bad thing for us to have some quiet time together late at night.

I step forward and close the distance between us. If you want me there, you can just ask. I hate games. I’m close enough that I know my breath hits his face, but when he tries to kiss me I pull back, smiling, waiting for him to say what I want him to.

Okay. Fine. Come over tonight? he asks. Please? He leans over me as his hands tighten around my back, keeping me close.

I’d love to. I part my lips, starting a kiss that leaves me delightfully light-headed.

See you tonight, he whispers, brushing his lips against my cheek.

It’s these little touches that make me remember how Shawn just feels good. And how good we are together. For the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to sneaking out.

I WAS THIRTEEN…

…and Shawn’s face held bad news. You’re moving? My heart dropped.

Yeah. Dad’s hoping it’s temporary. He let out a sigh.

And you promise to write? I asked with the last bit of air in my lungs.

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