AN: This is a fic about what happens with Aubrey and Dave after that Monday morning. I loved both characters in the movie, and I felt they deserved a little more story. I don't know if there is any interest in such a fic, so, if you like it, and would want it to continue, please let me know. I don't own anything related to "The First Time." Enjoy.

Chapter One

Aubrey

The first time I came to New York it was with my parents, to visit the New York School of Visual Arts. I liked the school, but I hated the dirty, smelly, ugly city and its ill-mannered denizens.

They weren't exactly surprised by my interest, given that Dave is in New York, but they weren't thrilled either. They always assumed it would be Penn State, daddy's school, or some fancy liberal arts college like Bryn Mawr. The idea of their precious only daughter braving the Big Apple and an edgy art school to be near her boyfriend… they were going along, though. I suspect that part of the reason is that they like Dave more than they like me.

Make no mistake. They love me to pieces, as I love them. But Dave, well, he's a parent's dream. Clean cut, responsible, articulate, polite, caring to a fault, and clearly crazy about me. Me? I'm a confusing, indecisive, slightly scary mess.

Classes at Columbia had started three weeks ago, so I hadn't seen Dave for a month. I'm seriously deprived. Of course, Dave is dying to follow me around during the college visit, but I told him to stay away. This is about the school. If Dave is around, it will be about him instead. I have very little self-control as far as my boy is concerned. Tomorrow, we're having dinner with my parents. I'm staying an extra day, and Dave is supposed to show me around the city. We didn't talk about it, but I know we're on the same page. He's going to find a quiet, private little spot somewhere, and we're going to spend the day screwing each other until our brains melt.

Four months and a bit before

Janine and Marcy are old friends, going back to middle school. We joined jazz band together sophomore year. Janine plays a mean clarinet, and Marcy is a percussionist like me. After practice, all I want is to run outside and see him. Instead I find myself blocked and interrogated.

"Who is he?"

"Who?"

"The hottie you were kissing at first bell."

"It looked pretty intense from where I was standing."

"Oh." I hide my smile by looking at my feet. " He was nobody. Just a boy."

"And what happened to Ronny?"

"History." I start walking towards the parking lane and they follow.

"C'mon, you little slut. Give us something…"

From a distance, I see he is standing at the driveway, waiting. I start running. They stop, when they see Dave there waiting for me. I half turn around and shout. "He is a very good kisser."

I literally jump in his arms, and we kiss. And we kiss some more. I had a script in my mind, that I was going to be cool, and ask him about his day… everything goes right out the window when I see him there smiling at me.

Someone cleans her throat behind me. We unglue our lips and I turn around. I hold him with an arm across the waist, and his arm rests around my shoulders. "Dave, meet Janine and Marcy."

Dave is clearly a little embarrassed by the situation. "Err... Nice to meet you."

They giggle and whisper among themselves. Finally Marcy extends her hand. "Nice to meet you... Dave." Janine shakes his hand but doesn't say anything.

I get a little annoyed. "Are you guys twelve?" They look a little sheepish. I turn to Dave. "C'mon. Let get out of here."

"All right." He waves at the girls. "Bye." and the two clowns reply in unison "Bye!"

I'm still a little annoyed as we drive away. "Idiots!"

"They seemed nice."

"They are all right." Truth, I've been kinda ignoring my classmates all year, but those two are still what passes for my best friends. Who would I want to tell about last weekend? The only person I can think of is sitting right next to me, and he already knows. I decide to call then later, and set up a girl's hang out.

"By the way, thanks. You're a great kisser too."

I giggle. I hadn't realized he heard it. "Thanks."

"Where to?"

"Home. I have a ton of homework."

"Can I see you later? Say, after dinner?"

"Sure. Come by half past seven."

He stops in front of my home. I wait, while he gets out, goes around the car and opens the door for me. I step out wondering if this is ever going to get old. I sure hope not. For the third time, I find myself kissing him in front of his car. Now, this, I know. It will never get old. I walk away.

He talks softly to my retreating back. "Ah, I almost forgot."

I turn around. He's still leaning against his car. "What?"

"You're coming to the Prom with me. I bought the tickets today."

My heart nearly stops. "Prom."

"It's the second Friday. Two weeks after we met."

"Prom."

"Yes, Aubrey. Humphrey High Senior Prom. You and me. I promise to have you back home by one. I can't do anything about your virginity, though."

I run back to him and kiss him again. I really, really need to find another move. I whisper in his ear. "I'm so glad it was you..."

I walk away again, but I can still hear when he speaks softly to himself. "Ditto."

When they call me for dinner I had managed to finish an essay on slavery, and some calculus problems. I'm missing a physics assignment, but I have study hall before physics tomorrow, so I was done.

When I come down, they are both behaving a little squirrely. It takes me about three bites of pot roast to figure it out. "You guys saw him. On the driveway."

Mom speaks for both of them, keeping a little laughter under her voice. "He looks nice. You didn't drive him away after all."

"Oh, I did. But he came back. His name is Dave."

"You should invite him to dinner. We'd like to meet him."

"I will. But I need help, now."

"What?"

"I'm going to the Senior Prom. I need a dress."

"Dave asked you?" I nod. "When is it, sweetheart?"

"Not this Friday, the next one."

Mom frowns. "That's a bit short notice."

"It doesn't have to be the a big deal dress, mom. It's not even my school."

"Don't be silly. I'm picking you up after school tomorrow. We're going to the Mall. And I'm making an appointment at the hairdresser for that Friday. Full treatment."

I sigh. Momzilla is awake. Now, it's just go with it. "He's coming by after dinner."

"Just be back by nine thirty." That's weekday curfew.

"Can it be ten?"

They exchange a glance. Dad answers. "Yes. But just this once."

"Thanks guys."

I swallow my dinner and rush to my room, to put on something nice and a little make up. I choose a skirt, not too short, for parental appeasement and easy access, and a loose top with a nice lacy bra underneath. Suddently I realize need to shop for underwear.

I was outside, waiting for him when he arrived. I didn't wait inside because I knew he would never just honk. He would walk up and knock. I'm not ready for him to meet my parents yet. I just ain't.

I open the door and sit. "Where are we going?"

"Ice cream?"

"Good choice."

It's a short drive, and a couple of kisses. We sit at booth, and ask for a banana split and two spoons. His fingers play, caressing my inner thigh, right above the skirt's hem, under the table. We eat the ice cream.

I need to know more about him. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"Yes, once. Rachel Summers, sophomore year, for about three weeks. I didn't like kissing her."

"Why?"

"Braces."

"What else?"

"A few dates, and a long sad crush on Jane. Then you. What about you?"

"A couple of boys. A junior freshman year, a classmate last year. A few dates. Ronny for about four months. And then us."

"Us."

Yes, us. What the hell is going on. In three days the cute looking boy besides me went from total stranger to... what? "I'm scared."

"I'm scared too. But it's a good scared, like an adventure. Like being lost in Madrid."

That was an awfully insightful simile. I remember that moment in Madrid. When I realized that being lost shouldn't stop me from appreciating the foreign landscape around me. I look at him for a second and I feel the complicated way in which he captivates me. The physical attraction. His maturity, his obvious regard for others. The way he seems to care about me, how I feel, how I think. I realize he is just waiting and I continue. "Last night, I didn't sleep a wink, hoping you'd call, or write. I woke up really sad, thinking I had pushed you away. Then you came back. We kissed in front of my whole school, and you know what? It felt good. Apparently I don't care about PDA's anymore, as long as it is with you. We had that embarrassing experience last night, and all I can think about is doing it again. With you. I'm falling for you, David Hodgman, hard and way too fast. Please, please, catch me."

He blinks his brown eyes and opens his mouth to speak, once, twice. Then he gives me this huge, beautiful smile. "Oh, I'll catch you all right." He grabs one of my hands and lifts it to his mouth and kisses it. "It was exactly that story about Madrid. How much I wished I was there, experiencing it with you. That's when I fell in love with you."

I need to get my hands on him. "Let's get out of here." I think back to the past seventy-two hours. Was there one precise moment? When I stopped myself from telling Jane what she wanted had been standing there beside her all along? That's when I knew I wanted him for myself. But the moment things really changed for me was when he came back this morning.

He stops at a quiet spot a couple of blocks away from my house. We kiss. There's no privacy, so the clothes stay on, but our hands go everywhere. Things get so heated up that I become afraid we won't be able to stop, so I push him away. We stay there a bit, trying to catch our breath, trying to cool off enough to speak. It's probably cold showers for both of us, before bed.

He drives me home. It's still twenty minutes before curfew. He turns to me and asks. "Now what?"

"Now you go home and come back to pick me up for Prom at nine on the other Friday." The look of disappointment in his face... I'm kidding! I'm kidding!"

He laughs. "Jeez! You're evil, you know?"

"A little bit, sometimes."

"Well, let's see... You pick me up tomorrow for school. Just arrive about twenty minutes earlier, so we can make out a bit in front of the school, and you can still make it in time."

"Check."

"Tomorrow my mom is picking me up after school. I need to buy a dress for your stupid Prom. I'll text you when I'm home. In fact, I'll text you at all times, and share any random thoughts that pass through my brain. I encourage you to do the same."

"Check."

"Wednesday you can pick me up after band practice again."

"Can we go to the park with Stella?"

"Sure."

"Friday night you will take me out on a date. Dinner and a movie will do. Curfew on Friday is eleven."

His smile broadens. "Check. There's a chance that my mom will be gone with Stella Saturday night, to visit her sister. She comes back on Sunday afternoon. We can use my home to try again..."

I laugh. "Yes! Yes! Check!"

"Sunday night is dinner at my father's."

"One more thing."

"What?"

"You're my dude now. Don't even look at Jane or anyone else."

He frowns at me. "Check. But I'm not your dude. That was Ronny. I'm your boyfriend. I know you have a problem with labels. I don't care. Deal with it."

I look at him. "Boyfriend." Feels good to say it. "Check."

I get in the house, and they are sitting around looking very casual. As usual, mom takes the lead. "So, how was it?"

"Great."

"Sweetheart..."

"All right! He's my boyfriend now. Happy?"

They exchange a glance. "When can we meet him?"

"Next week. Set up a time." They are going to love him.

There's about a dozen kids waiting on the stairs outside the main building of the college. There's only a couple of boys, and everybody seems to favor funky dress styles that scream "Hey, look, I'm an artist!" There's colored hair, piercings and tats. If you go by dress style, I'm the most conventional of the bunch, with a knee-length jeans skirt, a loose, bright yellow tank top with a sliver of skin showing in the middle, and white ballet shoes. I'm not really impressed by affected dress styles. Dave taught me that the most original minds often don't advertise. A tall skinny brunnete with heavy make up and a badass rocker style approaches me.

"Hi. I'm Lyla."

"Aubrey."

"What do you do?"

"I work with paper. Collages, mostly. Recently I've started doing little papier-mache sculptures. You?"

"Pencil and charcoal drawings. Caricature. I do a cartoon strip for the school paper. Watercolors, sometimes. Where are you from?"

"Small town outside Pittsburgh. You?"

"Savannah, Georgia."

"Wow. That's kinda far."

"I'm beyond ready for a change of pace."

"Yeah, I get that."

A tall, skinny girl with neon green hair, glasses and bright lipstick talks loudly to grab our attention. "Hi! I'm Allison. I'm a junior here, majoring in design. I'll be your guide for today, so please, follow me."

I'm quite well impressed by the tour. Allison explains that students are expected to spend a significant amount of time in their own projects, under loose supervision by the faculty. Campus is spread around five different nearby buidings, with three residence halls. The creative studios are spacious, well-equipped and freely available to the students. I love working with paper, but I can easily see myself experimenting with other stuff, including clay, animation and even interior design. There's a lot of stuff, both by the students and by the faculty, that seems to be just going through the motions, but there is a lot of very interesting pieces too. The atmosphere is mixed, like the art. There is some of the phony posing that all art seems to attract. There is also genuine energy, enough of it to make the place crackle at times. Bottom line, I find myself itching to get back home and try a couple of things, inspired by what I've seen. This is a great take-away impression, at least for me.

Lyla sticks next to me through the whole tour. From her sly observations and general attitude I get the impression she is the real thing, and I find myself enjoying her company. It takes me a while to figure out that she is also seriously flirting with me. What surprises me is that I am encouraging her a little as well. It's not that I'm attracted to her. I don't think I'm built that way.

Finally she comes out and asks. "Do you want to go out with me afterwards?" Her hand is oh-so-casually resting on my hip as she asks.

"I don't mind going out with you. But you should know. I'm totally straight."

She smiles. "I'm sorry to hear that. You sure you don't want to... experiment a bit?"

"No. But if I ever do, I'll be sure to tell you."

She laughs. "I sure read the signs wrong. I was certain you were into me as well."

"I like you well enough. That's why the mixed signals. Sorry."

"Oh, don't worry. You're gracious enough, that's for sure. Do you have a guy in your life?"

"Yeah. Dave. He's a freshman at Columbia."

"And there's the reason for your interest in the SVA."

"Until a few hours ago, yes. Now, I kinda like the place on its own too."

"Isn't your boy meeting you tonight?"

"We're supposed to get together tomorrow. I was expecting to do something related to the college visit tonight. You might want to look at some of the other girls in our group. I'm sure some of them would be a little more... receptive."

She giggles. "I'd rather have a couple of drinks, talk and flirt with you than actually do one of these ninnies."

"Well, thank you, I guess."

After the visit they take us to a mixer at one of the residence halls. Lyla and I stick together, but at some point, she disappears with one of the residents. Things become a little boring after that, so I go back to the hotel, and the room I'm sharing with my parents. Next morning my parents and I attended lectures, given by faculty and administration, concerning living on campus, the different majors and the challenges and advantages of life in New York. The visit ended with lunch, and a tour of the college's art gallery and museum.

At the end, the visit served both purposes. I was more enthusiastic about studying at SVA, and my parents were a lot less reticent about it.