And then I heard Caroline was coming back. I really wanted to see her, to find out if she lived up to my memory of her. I didn’t think that would be possible; I mean, she must have changed. It had been nine years: she must have changed, right? For all I knew, she was fat and had kids. Even so, I’d been desperate to think of a way to see her, and find out once and for all. She probably didn’t even remember me: I was just some kid that she’d taken pity on.
And then I’d seen her at the beach, and she’d taken my breath away. She was so beautiful. She had the same long, brown hair that looked almost auburn in the sun; and her eyes were almost hazel and her skin was all glowing and tan, looking fucking delicious.
She was so beautiful lying there in that bikini; I got hard just looking at her, and my eyes damn near dropped out of my head and rolled down the beach. It really made me pissed to think that the other guys were probably thinking the same thing. I’d had to hold my surfboard in front of me, so she couldn’t tell how I was feeling. How fucking embarrassing was that?
When she sat up and I could see her breasts, I nearly came on the spot. Ugh, God!
At first, she hadn’t recognized me. I was shocked by how much that hurt; but then I told her who I was and she smiled at me. Her smile fucking knocked me out.
“So, that’s your Mrs. Wilson, huh?” said Ches, leering at me as he jogged my elbow. “She’s freakin’ hot.”
“Heh heh! I bet Seb’s wishing she was a cougar,” said Fido. “I wouldn’t say no.”
I slapped him upside the head, and he kept his mouth shut after that, but Ches kept throwing me these cheesy looks.
I couldn’t concentrate on anything but the way she looked at me. It was a miracle I didn’t drown when I went back out to surf.
Then at the party, later. She talked to me again … she looked so beautiful, and she was so sweet and funny. The way she talked to me: it sounded like she really cared, like she was really interested in me.
And then my fucking father had to turn up and humiliate me in front of her. I really wanted to fucking kill him.
But thanks to Mrs. Vorstadt’s barbecue, I knew that Caro would be at home the next morning. I could offer again to help her finish her unpacking—and get to talk to her alone.
I set the alarm to wake up early, making sure I didn’t bump into her bastard husband as he left for work. Mom would be asleep till lunchtime, so I didn’t have to worry about her.
Walking over to Caroline’s was one of the scariest fucking things I’d ever done. I didn’t know what I’d say to her. Well, offer to help with her moving-in stuff, obviously. It was fucking irritating to be so nervous: I’d been fine when I’d talked to her last night. Maybe that was because I didn’t know she was going to be there—I hadn’t had time to turn into a fucking pussy.
I took a deep breath and knocked on her door.
Her expression was faintly irritated when she answered. Fuck! That didn’t look good.
I shoved my hands in my pockets to stop them shaking, and stuck on a fake smile.
“Hi, Mrs. Wilson.”
“Oh, hello! It’s nice to see you again, Sebastian. What can I do for you?”
“You said you had to unpack crates; I thought I could help.” And I wanted to see you alone.
She didn’t look very happy and my nerve began to falter, wither, and fucking die a humiliating death.
“That’s very sweet of you, Sebastian, but I don’t think your parents would be happy if they knew you were here instead of studying.”
“I’m taking a break,” I lied.
“I’m sure they won’t object to Sebastian helping a neighbor.”
Fuck! Mrs. Vorstadt. Damn. I’d thought Caroline would be alone.
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Sebastian,” she continued, in a tone that sounded like she knew exactly why I was standing on the doorstep.
“Well, I could certainly use some help.” Caroline sounded flustered, but she hadn’t said ‘no’ either.
“Great! I’ll go get started.”
I practically ran to her garage, hoping Mrs. Vorstadt wouldn’t put two and two together.
I faintly heard Caroline mutter “thank you”, but I didn’t want to hear what else they might say about me, so I started hauling stuff out of crates like my life depended on it.
When Mrs. Vorstadt drove away, Caroline walked into the garage, shaking her head.
“You really don’t have to do this, you know.”
“I want to help.”
It wasn’t a lie exactly: I did want to help her. But more than anything, I just wanted to talk to her, spend time with her.
I pulled out a box full of paperbacks.
“Where do you want this?”
“Oh, could you take that into the living room? There’s a cabinet with a bookshelf—they can be tucked away in there.”
I carried it inside and unpacked her books. Most of them were by authors I’d never heard of. I tried to memorize some of the titles so I could read them, then talk to her about them.
Yeah, I know, but being near this woman was driving me fucking insane.
For one thing, I could smell the shampoo that she’d used, and for another, she was wearing this cute little sundress, and when she stood in the doorway to the garage, I could see right through it. I was going to spend the whole fucking morning as hard as fucking rock. I just hoped she wouldn’t notice.
Adjusting myself carefully, I wandered back out to the garage. She was struggling with a huge box, and I had to brush past her to take it out of her hands. I nearly came in my jeans when she backed her fucking amazing ass into me.
“Oh, sorry!” she laughed. “I’m so clumsy!”
“Nah, it was my fault. Where do you want this?”
That box had to go in her bedroom. Jeez, I really wanted to see that room, but when I got there, his fucking dress uniform was lying on the bed, reminding me that she was married.
I hated everything about her husband: he was an arrogant fucker and he treated her like shit.
I trudged down the stairs and back out to the garage. Then she looked up and smiled, and I remembered why I was here.
“So, how’s school? Not too long until you graduate now.”
“Nope, I can’t wait.”
“Do you have plans for the summer?”
“Yeah. Surf. A lot.”
She laughed. “Of course! Your endless summer. Anything else, or is that a 24-hour a day surf?”
“Yeah, something like that! Nah, I’ll have to get a job. The less time I’m at home, the better.”
She frowned, then nodded. “Well, that sounds like a plan. Maybe you could get a job in a surf shop?”
God, she was great. She totally understood me.
We chatted easily for hours, and I couldn’t remember why I’d been nervous to come over here.
“Oh crap! It’s nearly lunchtime,” she said, staring at her watch.
She looked kind of annoyed, and I wondered if she was late for something.
“Did you have to be somewhere?”
“No, no, I’m worried about you. Your parents … your studying.”
Fuck that.
“No sweat.”
“Look, I’m not going to be responsible for you flunking out. I’ll fix you some lunch, and then you must go study. Deal?”
Food and Caroline. I was one happy fucker.
“Okay, deal!”
She showed me where I could wash up and when I walked into the kitchen, she was reaching up to get some glasses. I realized how darn little she was. Just so fucking perfect. Just the right size for me to … And, I was hard again. Little fucker wouldn’t stay down.
I reached up to get the glasses for her.
“I’ll get those for you.”
I don’t think she’d realized I was there, because she jumped when she heard my voice. But having her so near to me, it was like her whole body was a magnet pulling me in. I stood there like a scary fucking moron with those damn glasses in
my hand, just staring at her.
She took them from me without comment. But two seconds later she was leaning into the fridge, her fucking perfect ass waving at me. It took every ounce of control not to leap on her. And then she started talking about lemon pressé. She could have offered me bong water and I’d have fucking drunk it without noticing.
“Yeah, I’ll try that, please, Mrs. Wilson.”
“Sebastian, you can call me Caroline. Mrs. Wilson is so formal … and it makes me feel ancient.”
Well, shit!
“Okay, Caroline.”
I couldn’t help grinning like a loon. Caroline. I loved the way it sounded when I said her voice out loud.
“Now, I can make you a chicken salad sub or … tricolored salad.”
Oh, yeah. Time to do suave.
“Insalata tricolore, per favore.”
She looked so fucking surprised, I nearly laughed out loud.
“I’ve been learning Italian. A correspondence course. My high school only offered Spanish.” For you. Caroline.
“Really? Molto bene!”
“And I’ve been listening to opera, too. I like Verdi.”
Liar: it sounded like cats fighting.
“The fallen woman.”
What the fuck? What did she mean? What was she trying to say to me?
“Excuse me?”
“La Traviata: I presume that’s what you mean when you say you like Verdi. Or maybe Aïda? Rigoletto?”
Oh.
“Yeah, all of those.”
“I thought teenage boys only listened to heavy rock music.”
Shit. She knew I was being a pretentious fucker.
“I’m glad you like opera,” she said, softly. “My father loved it.”
Yeah, I remembered him. I was so fucking jealous that she had a great dad like that.
“I remember you and him singing opera in your kitchen.”
“Really, you remember that?”
“I remember everything.” Everything about you, Caroline.
“That was a great visit when Papa came to stay.”
“Yeah, he was fun. We blew up a lot of things.”
“Yes, David wasn’t very happy about it.”
That fucker. Change of fucking subject coming right up.
“How is your dad?”
“He passed away: two years ago.”
Oh shit.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Fucking moron! You’ve made her cry! Shit, I’m sorry, Caroline!
I could have kicked myself, because then the shutters came down, and she became all formal again.
“Thank you for your help this morning, Sebastian. It was really very thoughtful of you, but I’m going to have to insist that you go and do some studying as soon as we’ve eaten. I don’t want to get you into any more trouble.”
Yeah, I deserved that. She wanted me the fuck out, and I couldn’t blame her. Fucking idiot.
She made me a really amazing meal. I hadn’t had anything to eat since the barbecue, and I was so hungry, my stomach was yelling at me to get the food in as quickly as possible without stopping. Everything she made was wonderful. I could have kissed her. And I really fucking wanted to.
I don’t want to come off like a dick, but at school I could have any girl I wanted. Not that there was any way I was going to be a player like my old man. The point is, I’d never been a mute fucking moron who could hardly string two words together before. But now…
She offered to drive me home and I couldn’t help thinking it was just so she could get rid of me, which really fucking hurt. Then I realized we were nearly outside my house, so I made her stop the car.
“Can you drop me here?”
“But we’re not at your place yet?” she said, sounding confused.
“There’ll be fewer questions this way.” Ain’t that the truth.
She pulled over and waited for me to get out. I had to find some way to see her again—to let her know that I wanted to spend time with her. So what did Mr. Fucking Genius come up with?
“Will I see you again?” Yeah, right.
She looked puzzled.
“I expect so. Everyone bumps into everyone on the Base. Now, promise me you’ll study this afternoon.”
Oh God! So not what I meant! But I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Okay, Caroline. See you later.”
“Bye, Sebastian.”
I climbed out of the car and watched her drive away.
I walked home slowly. Mom was still in bed. No fucking change there.
The next day, I was still no nearer to deciding how to get to see Caroline, without coming off like a crazy stalker guy.
Irritated at the direction my thoughts had taken, I stared down at my text book. Just a few more months and I could get out of this shithole and never come back. Except that … Caroline was here now.
The main house phone rang, interrupting my thoughts.
Sighing, I picked up the receiver.
“Hunter residence. May I help you?”
Nobody responded. Probably a telemarketer. God, I hated that. What a fucking tedious job.
“Hello?”
And then I heard her soft voice.
“Hi, Sebastian … it’s Caroline.”
I couldn’t help taking a sudden, sharp breath.
“Caroline, hi! How are you?”
“Good, thanks. I was expecting to reach your mother…”
No! Talk to me! “I had a free period — and I’m graduating on Thursday anyway.” Idiot! Don’t remind her you’re still in school!
“Oh, well, as luck would have it … I wondered if you could help me—with an article I’m writing?”
“Sure, anything!” Oh, God, I’ll do anything for you.
Her voice sounded firmer now.
“Well, when we were talking at the barbecue the other day, you mentioned that your friend’s dad surfed—I think you said his name was Ches? Well, I wondered if you could give me his number; I’d like to speak to him.”
What? Fuck, no! She liked Ches?
“You want to speak to Ches?” The words nearly choked me.
“Well,” she said, hurriedly, “I really wanted to talk to Ches’s dad. I’m writing an article about personnel from the Base who go surfing. I thought it would make a great piece for City Beat.”
“Oh, right.” I was ridiculously relieved. I hoped that she couldn’t tell. “Sure, I can get you that. We were going to hang out at the beach this afternoon. There’s a swell coming in off the Pacific that looks awesome. Mitch was going to ride with us. You want to come, too?”
Please say yes. Please say yes!
“Mitch?”
“That’s Ches’s dad. He’s a Staff Sergeant.”
“Well, that would be great.”
I could have got down on my knees and thanked God.
“What time were you going to go?”
“About 3:45. We could pick you up?”
“Um … are you going to Point Loma again?”
I wondered why she wanted to go there.
“Maybe … we were going to sort of drive around till we found the best break.” That’s what we usually did. Please come with me!
She hesitated long enough for my heart to stop.
“In that case, yes, I’d love a ride,” she said. “Are you sure it’ll be okay with Mitch and your friends?”
“Sure!”
Damn. No points for being cool.
She gave this cute little laugh. Hell, if I’d heard the desperation I knew was leaking through my voice, I’d have laughed, too.
“Well, okay,” she agreed at last, “but I’d feel happier if I could talk to Mitch first.”
“No, it’ll be fine. Really.”
I don’t want to give you Ches’s number! Talk to me. ME.
“I really think I should,” she said, gently.
Fuck. I couldn’t say no to her. Reluctantly, I gave in, reeling off Ches’s number.
&nb
sp; “So I’ll see you after school—um 3:45. I’ll pick you up. Um, Mitch’ll pick you up. Um, 3:45 pm. Okay?”
Stop babbling, moron!
Eventually, she hung up. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, a direct result of my mutant rambling. I must have sounded like a complete idiot. I really had to get my fucking act together before I saw her later, or I was going to have another really bad case of word vomit.
I stood up, then realized my dick was rock hard. Huh, interesting. I headed for the shower and whacked off. Twice.
I mean, I knew it was dumb, having a shower before I went surfing, but I just wanted to look good for her, like I’d made an effort. Hell, I even took a couple of minutes to shave. I didn’t usually shave more than once or twice a week, but this was a special occasion.
It was a freakin’ long five hours of school, before Mitch swung by in the van to pick me up.
“Hey, Seb. You ready man?”
I nodded and tried to smile normally, as he stared at me.
“You okay?” he said, frowning slightly.
Ches’s dad was cool. I wished I had a dad like him, not the sack of shit I was saddled with. But sometimes, I didn’t want Mitch to see everything; the man was too damned observant.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied.
He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it either.
I climbed into the back of the van, crashing down next to Fido, and Ches nudged my shoulder.
“’Sup, man? You look kinda sick, like you’re jonesin’ for a hit or something. You’re acting like a fucking lunatic.”
I blew out a long breath of air, and tried to calm the fuck down.
Ches threw me another look and Fido just looked stoned. I mean, he wasn’t—Mitch wouldn’t put up with that shit—it was just the way Fido looked.
A few minutes later we stopped and I held my breath, thinking we’d arrived at Caroline’s place. But it was Mitch’s buddy, Bill, who climbed into the front of the van. He was such an asshole; I could never figure out why he and Mitch were friends. He was always ragging on me, just because my dad was an officer. It was pretty fucking irritating.
Then Mitch spoke, and I couldn’t help thinking it was as much for Bill’s benefit as anyone else’s.
“Listen, guys, Mrs. Wilson is going to be joining us this afternoon, so I want the language kept clean. She’s a lady and an officer’s wife, so cut the crap. You hearin’ me back there?”