See Dot Smile

... How it ends.

We go to Bud's favorite diner. The one with the trio of waitresses who treat him like royalty. They bring him margarine, and extra real maple syrup, but don't charge him for it. And he leaves them an eighty percent tip they can easily split three ways. 

As we're leaving, Mae Mae calls out, "Goodbye, Lovers".  And we don't correct her.

Bud offers to take me home, but I say I want to spend the night with him. He's not opposed. We find a twenty-four-hour Walmart and buy two sleeping bags, two pillows, a bottle of spring water, toothpaste, two toothbrushes, and a Cosmo magazine.

We drive up the coast until we find a spot to park that won't bug anyone or give the police a reason to move us along before morning. Bud sets up camp in the back of the van, and I ask if he'll zip the two sleeping bags together into one, so we can share. And he does.

Then I ask if he'll take all his clothes off with me, so we can sleep naked.

And we get naked. And we laugh. Because it's funny. And because we're out of our little boxes and it feels like we're getting into trouble together. The best kind of trouble.

The kind that forges new destinies.

As we climb into our sleeping bag, I make a comment about his size fourteen shoes. How I'm convinced it's not a myth, that he must have turned a few heads in the Hamilton's pool and put Kendall to shame. He blushes magenta, and we read Cosmo to each other by the light of our phones until we get sleepy and drift off.

When my mind wakes up at 3:00 AM, I'm trembling. My heart is racing, and my skin is tingling. But I'm not scared. I pull Bud awake with a kiss and he returns it. And I feel things. All the things. Hope. Desire. Friendship. Passion. Comfort. Need. And Love.

I kiss him more deeply and my hands start to wander. He collects them in his and holds them over his heart. We open our eyes together.

"Bud," I whisper. "Will you touch me?"

He presses my fingers to his lips. "No," he says. "But you can touch you. And I can be here to cuddle you after."

He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear and smiles at me, lovingly. And it washes all the hurt of his rejection away.

I turn around and lean back against his body. I put my hands where I need them to be. And move them the way I need them to move. I'm not shy. I rock my hips knowing they're brushing against him. I make all the sounds I can't stop myself from making. And I don't need to conjure up a fantasy. Because I'm living one. And it's perfect.

It's Bud's steady breath on my neck. His warm hand on my arm. His thumb drawing little circles on the back of my shoulder, the place I decide - in the heat of the moment - to get my first tattoo. A rosebud. Silver blue, like his eyes. And it's his name on my lips as the wave crashes over me. And I shudder against his warmth. And I'm crying, real tears, as the crashing slows to rolling over sand.

His arms wrap around me, and I melt into the soft abundance of his body. All the extra that makes him so beautiful. I breathe in his closeness and I'm aching with happiness.

"See," he says. "I told you this is the best part."

I laugh and slide my hand up to touch his perfectly smooth cheek.

He kisses my palm. Once. Twice.

"I love you," I say.

"I love you, too."

It doesn't matter when it started. Or when it will end. Because somewhere in the middle, Bud and I shared one epic night of first times.

And I don't know what will happen the first time Joshua comes home from college. Maybe it will hit me like a wrecking ball. And all the hurt and love and fire will come flooding back. And maybe he won't be with Ali anymore. And maybe we'll drive down to the beach together. And walk to Hamilton's cove. And let ourselves into the patio. And sit with our feet in the pool.

And maybe he'll kiss me. And maybe that kiss will lead to something more.

It doesn't matter.

I'm not all that eager to lose my virginity.

Maybe because it feels like I just did. 

* * * * * * * * * *