Chapter 27: Life’s a Beach

Sunday, September 5, 1982

This time the swirl of hair over my face was long and dark and smelled of coconut. My hand found itself on a bare back, and started caressing.

A few minutes later, accompanied by a bit of moaning, Jasmine shifted, blinked, and looked up to me. “Oh! Morning!”

“Morning, honey.” I leaned down and kissed her.

“I have morning breath!”

“So do I. I think everyone does. Kissing is more important.”

“Hmm.” She kissed me. “Okay! I agree!”

We dragged ourselves out of bed, took yet another shower (we did have a good excuse!), then started getting dressed. I paused.

“Breakfast here or somewhere else?”

“Why?” she said, pausing while pulling on a pair of panties.

“If somewhere else, we might need bathing suits.”

“Good thing I brought a spare! The first is still wet.” She held up a red and gold one-piece. “What do you think?”

“I love it.”

“Works for me.”

We resumed getting dressed, and headed downstairs before long.

“I think dinner out. We’ll probably eat here tomorrow, so ... something else,” she said.

“Works for me.”

“Know anyplace here?”

I shrugged. “Nope, but I bet someone at the desk does.”

“Smart man!”

I headed over, chatted with the desk clerk, and came back. “Got a recommendation. Or a couple. Old-fashioned diner, a new place, or IHOP.”

“Diner! That sounds cool!”

“Diner it is.”

The Town & Country turned out to be pretty awesome. Even with the wait — it was busy on a Sunday morning! — I was happy we picked it.

I also noticed a few more stares than before. Two teenagers by themselves? White guy, Vietnamese girl? Who knew? This wasn’t Houston — not that all parts of Houston were equally cosmopolitan — and I’d already worried once about people not reacting well.

On the one hand: that might always matter. There are no guarantees. We might always be a little ... different. Our kids might be a little ... different. They might get picked on, maybe. Who knows?

On the other hand: what a stupid reason that would be for making a decision about my future. If we were very compatible, in love, had the same goals and hopes — all of that — would I let other people’s reactions bother me? I was pretty sure I’d never been that stupid. And I didn’t think Jasmine would be, either.

Another thing that needed to be discussed, not just ignored. But, also, not a hard decision.

We wound up driving down to North Padre Island and hanging out on a beach within the National Seashore area. We had beautiful weather and relatively few people around.

I’m not the biggest fan of beaches, overall. I’m perfectly happy to sit and read indoors where there’s air conditioning. Jasmine in a swimsuit is a pretty good inducement (though, again, indoors she could opt for less, which would also be a good inducement, but not for reading). I generally prefer pools to the ocean, sand is annoying, all of that.

But, since the women I like seem to like beaches, they’ll probably be part of my life. Making the best of things seems wise. Cooler, ice, drinks, making sure we can wash the sand off: basic prep.

For the first hour or two we just sunned and read. Then Jasmine marked her place and set her book aside, which prompted me to do the same. She rolled over and looked up to me.

“I guess we talked, even though we weren’t going to, but...”

Well, that was much better than ‘We need to talk... ‘, the bane of all guys’ existence. So, I could run with it. “But we should talk some more.”

“We should.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking, honey.”

“I’m thinking I was an idiot. An immature idiot. In my defense ... oh, fuck it, that’s the wrong way to start. It’s not a defense. It’s ... you’re just ... so...” She sighed. “I don’t know how to put this. I can’t say you wouldn’t ‘fuck around,’ because you clearly will, but I support that. After all, you got in trouble for not ‘fucking around.’ It’s ... you wouldn’t cheat. I can’t imagine another high school boy that I could really just say, ‘Oh, he won’t cheat’ and feel like, yeah, that’s a given.”

I nodded. “Why would I?”

“Jessica! Okay, fine, I know the reasons not to. But... Jessica! She’s probably the hottest girl in the state. And you know I know hot girls when I see them! If she wants to be a movie star, she’ll be one. Not a model — she’s too short. But ... okay, fine, enough waxing rhapsodic on the charms of another girl.” She giggled a little, winking. “Seriously, though, I could count on my finger the number of straight guys who wouldn’t give up nearly anything to get her in bed just once.”

I shrugged. “My dad wouldn’t, and I don’t think Francis would.”

“Hrmph! Fine! Teenage guys. Yeah. I think a lot of married men would balk, both because they are married and because she’s total jailbait.”

“I’ll give you that, though I still think it’s fewer than you think. I honestly don’t think Mike or Gene or Amit or Jimmy or a fair number of others would go after her even if they had a shot.”

“Eh. I ... question a couple of those. But, okay, fine. Still!”

“Yeah. I didn’t mean to quibble too much. I just don’t want what comes with being ‘Jessica’s boyfriend,’ much less what comes with being ‘Jessica’s guy’ long-term.”

“That’s my point. You skip right past ‘amazing romp in bed with the hottest girl you might ever talk to’ into ‘yeah, but the relationship wouldn’t be so great.’ You see what I mean? How many high school boys want a ‘relationship?’ Or one beyond ‘sex on demand,’ anyway? Fear of relationships is more common.”

I was probably blushing by this point. Maybe it was just the sun, though. I shrugged. “Just who I am. I see myself married and settled down and ... it’s not a race. I certainly don’t want kids until after college, and I don’t need to be married until then, either. But I also don’t need to do things to avoid that. I always figured I might not meet the right girl in high school, but what if I did? What if I have? Trying to act like she’s not would be just dumb. Who wants to look back after decades and think of ‘the one that got away’ with regret?”

Of course, I was thinking about the obvious questions: do I tell her? When do I tell her? What would Angie say? Would she agree? What if Jasmine took it poorly? My heart said I had to tell her. Not today, but ... sometime. Before. It was too big a thing to never tell the woman you loved, if you really and truly loved her.

Jasmine watched me for a second, then went on. “You just don’t flinch where ... well ... most guys flinch. I don’t even mean high school boys. Periods. Kids. Commitment. I like it, don’t get me wrong, I just find it ... fascinating. Kinda like I won the relationship lottery without even buying a ticket,” she finished, giggling.

“I think going on a date is buying a ticket. And, look at me. It could’ve been a blind date where we had no chemistry, and here we are, ten months later, very much with chemistry. I won the lottery, too.”

“I have to admit that, in my wildest dreams, I couldn’t have guessed that our date would’ve turned into a nearly-year-long relationship, much less two unsupervised out-of-town trips.”

“If you’d told me we’d have trips like this, I’d have said you were crazy. Of course, I’d have said that about Jessica — any part of it — about Lizzie winning a Student Council race, about me winning a Student Council race, about ‘Brigadoon’...”

“It was a wild year. So...” she said, grinning and nudging me lightly in the ribs, “What are we doing to top it this year?”

I shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Huh? We’re lapsing into routine already?”

“Oh, I don’t mean we can’t top it. I mean that, if we come up with some scheme to top it, it’ll probably fail, or backfire, or something like that. This was special because we didn’t come up with some big scheme to slip out of parental supervision, because you didn’t have some plan to rope any guy into the spring musical, all that. Because Jessica blindsided me and then I blindsided her. Because Mel blindsided me and Lizzie. Because Cammie made me sing and then you made me sing.”

She grinned. “Okay, I get it, and you’re right. Still ... you have to have some plans.”

“This won’t be our last trip. Maybe our last before winter break. I don’t know, but we’re busy pretty much every weekend, and Thanksgiving is ... Thanksgiving. Maybe Thanksgiving weekend?”

“Yeah.” She sighed, shifting a little. “I need to settle down and get to work. This is probably the semester. Well, this and next spring. Applications go out in Senior year. They’ll do most of their deciding based on this year.”

I nodded. “We’ll have to practice the heck out of the PSAT and SAT, too.”

“Ugh! So much pressure!”

“You can handle it. I’ve seen you.”

“Not that kind of pressure!” she said, nudging my ribs again.

“No, I’m serious. ‘Brigadoon’ was all sorts of pressure. So was ‘Hair’, I’m sure. And other things I’ve seen you do well at.”

She made a face. “Remind me to tell you more about ‘Hair’, but not today. I’m not getting into that while we’re vacationing.”

“Fine. The rest still stands. Do you really think you’ll convince me that you’re a fragile little flower that wilts when stressed?”

She blushed and smiled at the same time. “Yeah ... no. You wouldn’t. And you feeling that way helps me. I never felt that way, but ... sometimes...”

“You’re tough, and that’s a plus for me. Life gets tough. We’ll get through things together.”

“And there we are, back at ‘us.’ I like it — no, I love it, but it’s just funny.”

“It is, I suppose. Also, speaking of ‘us,’ and winter break...”

“Yes?”

“Or, really, right before winter break...”

“Um...”

“Well, there are three dances this fall. I might as well ask about all of them at once.”

She blushed, then leaned up and kissed me, obviously excited. “Yes, yes, and yes! I forgot about Winter Formal. Oh my! I will need a dress!”

“You have dresses.”

“A special dress! It has to be one you’ve never seen!”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

“Oh, this’ll be so much fun! I wonder what Angie will wear? And Connie, and Sarah, and Emily, and ... and Mel and Cammie. I wish they could go together! Oh! And Janet and Lizzie! They can’t, either, though.”

“Well, they could, but the whole school would know. Prom, maybe. Hopefully.”

“Prom! Yes! I wish I could see them!”

“If they go, I bet some senior would invite you.”

“You wouldn’t be bothered?”

“Why would I? Some senior might invite me.”

“Oh! Well, then! And we could still dance together. Win-win!”

“Win-win!”

We lost ourselves in dance planning for a while. Not a bad way to lose yourselves.

For dinner we went to a casual place close to the hotel. We had enough clothes to not have to go in beachwear, but fancy restaurants were out, and neither of us wanted to go back and change.

We didn’t dawdle over dinner. We were both tired and wanted to get back to the hotel. Once back ... well, time to mess up the sheets again. And shower. And snuggle.

Jasmine laid her head against my shoulder and sighed. “I’ll miss this, until our next trip.”