“Yeah? How’s she doing? How’s Kimberley?”
“She’s good. I can’t believe the kid is four now. I told her you’d be stationed at Pendleton.”
I threw Ches a look, and he raised his hands in apology.
I didn’t mind hearing about my ex-girlfriend, even though she’d royally fucked up the one important relationship I’d ever had in my life. She’d been pregnant and scared, so she’d made some bad decisions. But she’d apologized a shitload and we were okay. Even so, I didn’t want Ches making like I wanted to get back with her.
“Nah, she’s cool man. She’s started seeing some guy that works at a used-car dealership. She seems pretty into him.”
Well, that was a relief. I didn’t want her to think I’d be up for dating or any of that shit. Friends—I could do that.
“Yeah? Maybe I’ll call her.”
“And Stacey was asking about you, too,” added Amy.
I must have looked blank because she said, “You met her last year at your twenty-first … light brown hair in a cute bob, bangs … you know? She’s one of my bridesmaids.”
“Oh, sure. I remember. Got a brother out at Fort Myer, right?”
Amy smiled brightly. “Yes, that’s her.”
Ches threw me a warning look, and I took the hint: Stacey was off limits.
After dinner we headed out to the garage so I could check on my bike. She started on the second try which was pretty good considering she hadn’t been ridden in nearly a year. Ches had kept her running, but he hadn’t taken her out. Like I said—pussy whipped.
Ches climbed on behind me, and we rode out toward the ocean.
I stopped when we reached one of our favorite surf spots. The setting sun had turned the water blood-red, and the wind had dropped, so the only sound was the breakers rolling across the shore.
“Had some good times here, huh?” said Ches.
I nodded. It was true. We’d come here with Fido the night of our senior prom, when Ches didn’t have a date and I’d broken up with Brenda. We’d gotten wasted on Mitch’s beer and some weed that I’d scored. But this beach—it was also somewhere that I’d taken her.
“Hey, Seb,” said Ches, wiggling his eyebrows at me oblivious of the direction my thoughts had taken, “want to relive some of those good times?”
And he held out a baggie and blunt wrappers. Then he frowned.
“Can you? It’s cool if you’d rather not…”
“Nah, it’s not a problem.”
Drug testing was mandatory in the Corps but I was confident that by the time I got to Pendleton, there’d be nothing but a higher tolerance for alcohol in my system after this vacation.
We found ourselves a comfortable dune out of sight from the road, and sank down to the cooling sand.
“You do this often?” I said, raising one eyebrow. “I kinda thought Amy would have your balls in a vise for something like this.”
He twitched a smile.
“Yeah, she’d like to think so. But, I don’t do it that often anymore—responsible citizen and all that.”
“Damn pillar of the community,” I laughed.
“God help that community,” he mumbled.
I watched him roll the joint, glad I was here to spend these last few days of bachelorhood with him.
“You really love her, don’t you?”
A grin crept over his face.
“Yeah. You noticed, huh? She’s amazing.”
He smiled to himself, and took a long hit before passing it to me.
“Kind of obvious, my friend. I’ll miss you, buddy.”
“Jeez, Seb! It’s a wedding, not my funeral!”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
His face was suddenly serious.
“I want it all with her, man. House, mortgage, kids—all of it.” He looked at me sideways. “I thought you’d understand that—you of all people.”
I closed my eyes and sucked in the smoke, letting it sting the back of my throat and drawing it into my lungs before blowing it away.
Yeah, I’d wanted all that. Once. But I wasn’t going to let that happen now. I’d wised up—and I wasn’t going to give any woman the chance to shatter me into dust. Not again.
“Besides,” said Ches, “Amy’s got great tits.” He sighed. “God, I love burying my face in her tits.”
“Yeah? Well just don’t let her get on top, man,” I couldn’t help saying.
“Why the fuck not?”
“You’ll suffocate.”
Ches looked pissed, and then couldn’t help a quiet chuckle.
“That’s my future wife you’re talking about, Hunter. And by the way, a message from the future Mrs. Peters—she says no hitting on the bridesmaids. Got it?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
I took another drag and passed the joint back. We’d been doing this shit since I was 15 and Ches was 16. It was easy to score down by the pier—pretty much whatever you wanted. Mostly, we’d stuck to weed. It was easier to get hold of than liquor at that age.
“Got any plans for your birthday?” said Ches.
“Yeah, forget the fuck about it,” I said, with a scowl.
My 22nd birthday was five weeks away. Last year had been so shit, that my only plan this year was to dive into a bottle of whisky and stay there until I passed out.
“Fair enough,” he said, evenly. “We’ll be back from the honeymoon in plenty of time—we should head out, have a few drinks.”
I grunted something non-committal, and he was wise enough to leave it.
We finished the joint in silence, then rode back to the house.
“Goddamn it, get your ass in the van, Peters!”
Gareth was yelling at Ches while the groom said goodbye to Amy—again.
I sat in the back of the minivan, my sunglasses pulled down over my eyes. You got used to waiting around in the military—it was kind of, Hurry up and wait! So although it didn’t bother me, Gareth was getting really wound up.
Eventually, Ches unglued his lips from Amy, and with Gareth behind the steering wheel still looking pissed, we headed south on the I-5 to Tijuana. We’d barely left Ches’s street before he was texting Amy. I remembered what that was like—treasuring every moment, every message.
Jeez, I really had to get my head out of my ass! This was my brother’s bachelor party and I was thinking like a moody emo-bitch.
We crossed into Mexico soon after. I thought I was going to get some shit when the border guards examined my ID, muttering about me being a Marine. We’d all learned some Spanish at school, but it was the vibe and the way they were looking at me that freaked me out. They thought we were a bunch of rich, white Americanos coming for the cheap drinks and cheap chicks—which was true. Except for the being rich bit. I probably had more money than the rest of the guys as Ches, Gareth, Del and Vince had only just graduated and were all paying off their student loans. I wasn’t sure about Tyler as he was a bit older, but he probably worked. I hadn’t had much to spend my pay on in the desert. Maybe it was time to upgrade the motorcycle.
But at least there were a load of US military passing through at the same time—Marines and Navy. Guess I looked a bit different, what with hanging with guys who actually had hair.
Eventually, the border guards waved us through without shooting us or arresting us, but we’d wasted an hour of valuable surfing and drinking time.
Tyler kept giving me this dirty look, like I was personally responsible for the delay. What a dick.
The Tijuana Sloughs had been pumping as we’d driven past, so once we were on the Mexican side, we found ourselves a patch of road and just pulled over.
“Ah, you gotta be kidding!” whined Tyler. “This motherfucker breaks onto rock reef. I don’t want to get my face mashed three days before my sister’s wedding!”
Ches frowned, but I could see Tyler’s thinking had gotten to him. I decided to keep out of it, despite the draw of the pumping five foot barrels.
Del stretched and yawned. “Let’s go get
a coffee first and then find somewhere more mellow.”
So we piled back in the minivan and headed south for another 20 minutes. I remembered that Baja Malibu had a rep as a good beach break—bit gnarly for beginners, but it was spitting top to bottom barrels. Too good to miss.
“Hey, Gareth, if you pull off here we can park next to Tecate Jack’s. Then we’ve got surf and beer.”
He nodded and exited from the toll road, then parked on the dead-end street on the north side of the Baja Malibu housing development.
The tide was falling, which made the rides even better. I was stoked. It had been a long time since I’d surfed. I could sense Ches’s excitement, too. He’d even put his cell phone away. Thank fuck for that.
We piled out of the minivan and I couldn’t help noticing that Tyler looked like he was shitting himself but trying to hide it. I guessed he wasn’t that great of a surfer.
“I’m going to get caffeined up,” said Del, strolling in the direction of Tecate Jack’s. “I’ll catch up with y’all later.”
“Yeah, me, too,” muttered Tyler, and no one seemed at all sorry to see him go.
Gareth and Vince started suiting up while I was still mesmerized by the awesome surf.
“You okay, bro?” asked Ches, a puzzled look on his face.
“Yeah, sure. Just … thinking, you know.”
He nodded but didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.
He slapped me on the back, and that snapped me the fuck out of it. I pulled off my t-shirt and caught Ches staring at my new tat. I forgot about it most of the time. Most guys that served had something. Mine was done just before I shipped out to Iraq.
“Semper Fi, huh?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, guess it seemed like a good idea at the time.” I’d had the Corp’s logo inked onto my shoulder. I’d almost had ‘Infidel’ in Arabic, but luckily I hadn’t been drunk enough to go for that. “Whatever, man. Let’s surf!”
The ocean was colder than a witch’s tit, the swell coming in from Alaska by the feel of it. But it was epic: me and Ches, just like old times. Until the asshat dropped in on me, grinning like a loon as I got trashed by a wave breaking on my head. I thought I’d snapped the leash the way that it was tugging on my ankle. When I broke the surface, the bastard was laughing at me.
“You’re out of practice, dude!” he crowed.
I decided I owed him for that—and I was going to get him so wasted, he’d wish he was going home in a body bag. Game on.
We surfed for a couple more hours and Del and Tyler joined us for a while. I was right about Tyler—the guy was seriously out of his depth. Even though he acted like a dick, I didn’t think it would be cool if the bride’s brother didn’t make it back from TJ. I don’t think he knew it, but Ches and I were tag-teaming him, just to make sure when we called time-out, he’d still be breathing.
But after I’d heard him complain about only being able to take a basic cold shower on the beach, I was ready to toss him back in the ocean. Ches just rolled his eyes, and the other guys ignored him.
Once we dressed and spiffed up for the rest of the day and night, we drove back toward TJ and left the van by the beach, taking a cab the couple of miles back to town. La Revolucion Boulevard was the main strip where all the bars were lined up, ready for inspection. As soon as we got out of the cab, I saw a bunch of Marines and Navy guys who were already wasted, and about one minute from beating the shit out of each other. Ches spotted them at the same time, and we took a long walk around them, not wanting to get caught up in a turf war when there were plenty of other bars to check out.
As we looked for somewhere to eat, there were all these little kids, like six or seven selling gum. I mean, where the fuck were their parents? If they were my kids, I wouldn’t be letting them hang around the streets like that.
We decided not to waste time and money on a sit down meal, but loaded up at one of the taco stands that seemed to be on every corner. Ches insisted we all get some crappy TJ t-shirts as souvenirs, for fuck’s sake, and Tyler was taking photographs like a fucking tourist. I couldn’t help wondering if his camera phone would still be in his pants pocket by the end of the night. We zoned in on a bar called Papas and Beer. Jeez, what a fucking meat market for the young and willing. Tyler looked like he was about to blow his wad just by looking. When we scooted into a booth, I made sure I wasn’t sitting near him. Even though it was still early evening, there were people dry humping everywhere you looked.
Ches looked kind of uncomfortable, but I got the feeling it was going to be hard to get the other guys to go somewhere else.
“Hi! My name is Dina and I’ll be your server this evening.”
Vince and Del make no secret of eye-fucking our waitress. I couldn’t blame them—she was hot. She had this really pretty, auburn hair that was kind of curly. I know some girls paid a lot of money to get their hair permed that way, but hers looked natural. But, hey, no one was looking at her hair when her jeans shorts were cut so high, I could see the curve of her ass cheeks. And long, long legs. Nice.
“What do you guys need?”
“I need you to sit on my face,” said Tyler.
I’d really had enough of his shit. “Shut the fuck up, you douche!” I snapped. “Sorry about that, ma’am. He woke up an asshole and then got uglier.”
I shook my head in apology while Dina gave Tyler the stink-eye.
“Feel free to piss in his beer,” I said, not entirely joking.
Dina turned to me and grinned. “Well, I might just think about that! What would the rest of you like?”
“We’ll take a pitcher of beer, a bottle of tequila and six glasses, pretty lady,” said Vince.
As she walked away, the sway of her hips was really fucking fascinating. Every single one of us had our eyeballs glued to her butt-cheeks. Including Ches. There was no doubt about it: Dina was one hot mama.
Ches caught my eye and grinned. “Whatever you’re thinking, man, just don’t miss our morning surf or your ass is grass.”
“You’re joking!” laughed Tyler. “She’s gotta be like 35!”
“Seb digs older chicks,” said Ches, with a shrug.