by G. , Whitney
“I’m confused. I just told you that I wanted to stay in bed and—”
“Have sex?” He smirked.
“Yes, and I’m pretty sure putting on more clothes doesn’t necessarily help with that activity.”
“It doesn’t,” he said, stepping over to me. “But since I can personally guarantee that we’ll be spending your final twenty four hours here doing that, I was thinking we could try something else for the other two and a half days.”
“Something else like what?”
He bent down and trailed his fingers against my lips. “Like one of those ‘whirlwind dates’ from high school, except we’ll both be with the right person this time. Do you think that type of thing is still popular?”
“Yes.” My heart fluttered against my chest. “Yes, I think it definitely is.”
“Do you mind if we bypass the movie theater part, though?” he asked. “I don’t recall that part going that well for you before.”
I laughed and grabbed a pillow—tempted to hit him over the head with it, but he grabbed it and tossed it across the room.
“Get dressed,” he said. “I don’t want to waste tonight.” He planted one more kiss on my lips before stepping back and opening his dresser.
I glanced at my crumpled shirt and slightly torn skirt on the floor, knowing there was no way I could possibly wear either of those.
“Did you, by chance, keep any of the stuff I hid in your drawer last summer, or did you throw it out?” I asked.
“Of course, I didn’t throw it out.” He opened his closet and thumbed through the hangers, taking out a pink hoodie and jeans.
“Thank you.” I managed, keeping my eyes on his as I dressed. Somehow, he seemed to get sexier with each passing second.
As if he was reading my mind, he stared back at me. “If you don’t put the rest of your clothes on, we will have to stay here tonight.”
“I’m still failing to see how that’s a bad thing.”
“Five minutes, Ari.” He turned around and grabbed his car keys. “Hurry up.”
“Fine.” I pulled the hoodie over my head and slipped into my shoes. I picked up my phone and noticed there was a new text message. My mom.
MOM: I heard about what happened at Gayle’s tonight…Told you so! Tell Carter I said hello, and make time to see me for more at least an hour before you leave. :-)
ME: What makes you think I wouldn’t make time to see my own mother before I left? You think I’m that obsessed? That rude?
“Ari?” Carter said my name, making me look up at him. “Are you ready?”
I said nothing, just stared at him—immediately wishing that I hadn’t gone for so long without talking to him. I was definitely going to have an even harder time saying goodbye this time.
“Ari?” he asked again, smiling and tilting his head to the side. “Is there a reason you’re sitting there, staring at me?”
“Nope.” I cleared my throat and looked at my phone again. “Just texting my mom back. I’ll be ready as soon as I send this.”
I touched the screen and noticed she’d sent me a new text: You’re not obsessed or rude, you’re just in love. And I KNOW you! :-)
Another text from her quickly followed: I just texted Carter. He promises to bring you by after you two catch up a bit more. See you then!
I didn’t get a chance to ask Carter about that. His arm was around my waist and he was pulling me with him, leading me out of his room and outside.
Just like the summer before, he held the door to his car open for me—letting his fingertips linger against my skin for a little longer than necessary. As I buckled my seatbelt, he looked over at me and cranked the engine—stirring up even more memories.
“I just remembered something,” I said. “Do you remember when you first got all those upgrades to this car?”
“Yeah, right before prom. Why?”
“You told me that the reason you got all that stuff done was to impress your date that night, and that you were going to—” I paused to make a gagging sound. “That you were going to make sure that the first girl who saw the new upgrades was worth it, and it wasn’t all a waste. You said you were going to make sure you had her in every position possible on your back seat.”
“What’s your point?”
“Me and you hung out after prom, Carter. Granted, there were no such positions in the backseat, or anything like that, but you technically wasted your car’s big debut on me back then.”
Silence.
He adjusted the radio and turned to face me. “I didn’t waste anything on you. I think we both know that now.” He paused. “But I thought I slept with my date in the backseat a week after prom. Didn’t I?”
“You did.” I rolled my eyes and he laughed, giving me a light kiss before pulling off.
I shut my eyes as the familiar salty air of the city brushed against my face. The wind was cold for this time of year, but I declined Carter’s offer to let the top up. I wanted this moment to seem as close to old times as possible.
Miles past the main pier, his hand clasped mine behind the gear shift, and he ran his thumb along my knuckles as we approached a secluded shore.
Parking near the dock, he took off his hoodie and tossed it in the back seat. I followed suit, not caring to mention that “make-believe summer” or not, the water would probably be death-cold at this time of night.
“No, wait.” I shook my head as he held out his hand. “Let’s go somewhere else first.”
“Why?”
“Because, regardless of the fact that we haven’t talked to each other in forever, I’m convinced your mind is still wired to think that late night strolls on the beach equal breaking up with your girlfriend the very next day.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” I crossed my arms.
A slow smile spread across his lips, and I could tell he was trying his hardest not to laugh. “Get out of the car, Ari.”
I sat still, shaking my head at him.
“Ari…”
“What was wrong with the movies again?” I asked. “It would probably be a lot less cold there, don’t you think?”
He rolled his eyes and pulled me out of the car—tossing me over his shoulder.
“I just got you back a few hours ago.” He playfully slapped my ass. “I can guarantee I won’t be letting you go tomorrow.”
“What about the day after?”
“I can’t promise that one.” He tossed me into an oncoming wave before I could say anything else.
Shocked by the freezing cold, I screamed as he picked me up mid-laugh and tossed me into the water again. Then again.
I tried to escape him, to run back to the sand after each and every toss, but he always managed to grab my waist just in time.
“I miss this,” he said, helping me up after the umpteenth time. “I miss having you here.”
“I really wish I could say the same.” I splashed the shit out of him and swam away, unknowingly starting an hour-long back and forth chase.
When I’d finally had enough of him winning, I dashed back toward the sand and held up my hands in mock surrender. “You win, you win!”
“I’m glad you finally figured that out.” He walked up to me and slipped an arm around my waist. “Ready to leave yet?”
“Not really.”
“Me either.” He pulled me closer. “Let’s just walk.”
I thought he would strike up a conversation, or that I would start babbling about all the things he’d missed, but it seemed like neither of us could get any words out.
The only sounds around were the waves crashing over one another and the faint and fickle crackles of an abandoned fire pit.
Every now and then, he would look down at me and kiss my lips for no reason, hold me a little tighter with no explanation. When we’d made it halfway down the tourist section, we could see the faint lights of beach patrol cars in the distance, so we headed back toward his car.
“Ready to go somewhere else
?” He opened his trunk and tossed me a towel.
“At two in the morning?”
“Yes.” He walked over and pressed a smaller towel against my hair. “Good to know your habit of asking as many questions as possible hasn’t changed.” He looked into my eyes. “Your incessant blushing hasn’t either.”
“Excuse me?” I slid into the car. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying that I never saw you blush that much around any of your other boyfriends.”
“That’s probably because you were too busy wishing you were my boyfriend.”
“Never.” He slid behind the wheel and looked over at me. “Then again, if I’d known what I know now, I might’ve have wished that. Only after your braces were off, though.”
I laughed and he sped off, driving past the shops and bars on the other side of the pier. To my surprise, quite a few of the places were still open—still hosting small crowds of people who were home visiting for the break.
Carter eventually parked in front of a microbrewery, and for what felt like an hour, the two of us sampled shots of each and every concoction the manager suggested. In between laughing about absolutely nothing and swallowing bitter beers, our lips found ways to be connected whenever we seemed to struggle with words.
“I baked an ‘I Hate Carter’ cookie for my first assignment,” I slurred. “I got a four out of five.” I moved back as he tried to kiss me. “I got a four point five out of five when I made, “I Wish Me and Carter Were Never Friends” Pie.”
“So, what did you get when you made an ‘I Miss Carter Fucking Me’ pie?”
“Okay, okay. That’s enough, you two.” The manager stepped in front of us and set down a bill. “I’m cutting off your supply. Conversation and alcohol.”
“We’re not that drunk!” I attempted to push the check away, but all I did was push at the salt shaker on the other end of the table.
He shook his head. “Yeah, I can see just how sober you are right now.” He took Carter’s keys off the table and put them in his pocket. “I’m sure one of you was going to insist that I hold them until tomorrow anyway, right?” He smiled at me. “Get the hell out and have a good night.”
Laughing, we stumbled out of the bar hand in hand, walking aimlessly against the thinning crowds—acting as if we were the only two people in the universe.
As we approached a new tattoo shop, we gave each other a knowing glance before rushing toward it. This time—after downing a few ‘sober-up’ drinks per the technicians, we thought out what we wanted first and agreed to get the same thing: Small black and grey fountain pens with each other’s name on the handles.
It took much longer than necessary for us to get the ink—mostly because we couldn’t stop laughing at each other and they eventually had to put us into separate rooms.
After the lead technician placed a final piece of gauze over my collarbone, I met Carter by the door.
“What’s next?” I asked. “We have to do at least one more thing before the sun comes up for this to count as a true whirlwind date. It’s a well-known fact.”
“You just made that shit up, Ari.”
“I did.” I smiled. “But only because I don’t want to go back home yet.”
“No worries.” He smirked. “I wasn’t planning on getting you back home any time soon.”
I blushed. “Stay focused. What’s next? Gayle’s?”
“That, or we could always try something new. Since we don’t have a car, we could walk down a few blocks .There’s a brand new specialty diner called Carmen’s that’s closer than Gayle’s.”
“What?”
“It opened a few months ago and it has twenty-four hour service, too. I’ve heard the breakfast is pretty good.”
“No, no, no,” I said, shaking my head. “That wasn’t a what, like ‘what is it?’” It was a what like, ‘Why is that even an option?’ Like, how could you suggest such a thing?”
“To be different for a change? To maybe switch things up?”
Silence.
“Yeah…” I said after a while. “Yeah, I guess we should switch it up a bit tonight. We could both get pancakes instead of waffles—at Gayle’s.”
He laughed and I couldn’t help but join him. He pulled me close again, smiling down at me and “promising” to lead me toward familiarity.
When we were five blocks away from the diner, he suddenly let me go and pulled out his phone.
“Who are you texting?” I asked.
“Josh. I’m asking him to come and pick up my car as soon he can.”
“He knows how to drive your car now?”
“No,” he said. “Nicole does, though.”
“What?” I raised my eyebrow. “So why wouldn’t you just text Nicole? Why text Josh at all?”
“Because they’re probably together right now, and she doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to answering my texts.”
“By ‘together’, you mean the two of them are probably together right now as ‘friends’, correct?”
“Of course.” He smiled, pulling me close again. “Just friends.”
Track 34. You Are In Love
Arizona
A couple days later
With the taste of pancake batter still on my lips and the sting of my recent tattoo on my skin, I gently hugged my mother. She’d been right; I’d nearly forgotten to stop by during my last few days. I’d been too busy trying to spend every second with Carter, to make up for lost time.
“I thought you hated wearing shirts that covered your neck?” She pulled back, looking me up and down. “Did you not pack enough clothes or something?”
“Unfortunately.” I blushed, thinking about the numerous bright, red hickeys that were hiding underneath. “Anyway, you can guilt me into coming over, but you don’t want to ride along to see me off at the airport?”
“The first time was traumatic enough,” she said. “I experienced enough anxiety that day to last me a lifetime. No, thank you. I love you all the same though.”
I laughed and handed her a printout of flight information for her sanity. “I’m sure you’ll get over your fears and fly to France someday.”
“No.” She kissed my forehead. “You’ll always come visit. Speaking of which, have you decided how often you’ll be seeing Carter?”
I shook my head. Originally, his intent of once every month sounded probable, but last night, when we’d discussed it, we realized that would never work. Between his law requirements, and my weekends spent working in restaurants, it would be nearly impossible. The earliest I could see him again would be during the fall.
Six months from now.
“He’s going to come see me in September,” I said. “He already bought the ticket.”
“Good!” She hugged me again. “And when will you be coming back here?”
“October.”
“Even better.” She smiled. “Do you plan on apologizing to Sean when you get back?”
“Definitely,” I said. “I already sent him an email, but I’m going to do my best to say how sorry I am in person. If he doesn’t slam the door in my face, that is.”
“He won’t.” She looked as if she was going to say something else, but Nicole walked through our front door.
“Hey there, stranger!” She rushed over, giving me a dramatic hug. “I called you three times yesterday and you didn’t even text me to ask what was up! What gives?”
“Um…” I blushed, remembering exactly what I was doing with Carter during each of those calls.
“Were you really going to leave without telling me goodbye, Ari?”
“No, but if I did, I still would’ve video-chatted with you tomorrow.”
“Well, then!” She laughed. “I guess I’m back in second-class citizen territory since you’re back with Carter, huh?”
She and my mother laughed hysterically, and I tried my hardest not to join them.
“I just wanted to catch you before work,” she said. “Have a safe flight,
and I’m holding you to that video chat.” She lowered her voice so my mom couldn’t hear. “I need all the make-up session details. Tell me right now: Was the sex just as good as it was before you left?”
“It was better.”
“Ten o’ clock tomorrow, your time.” She smiled. “I’ll definitely be staying up for that. Have a safe flight, Ari.”
She and my mother slowly began to step away from me—eventually huddling in a corner. Completely ignoring me, they literally held some sort of super long (and super-secret) conversation—one that made both of them giddy for some reason, and then Nicole left.
My mom helped me to make sure all my luggage was zipped and locked—even re-opening the larger suitcase and checking the contents against my spreadsheet, one item at a time. She listened to me tell her about my best made entrees, about my roommate’s new and sudden infatuation with American culture, and all about the endless tours I’d taken outside of Paris in search of a nostalgic beach.
When I was halfway through my explanation of why I no longer enjoyed making macaroons, Carter pulled into the driveway and my words simply stopped. I now knew that I only had three hours left.
I watched as he stepped out of the car and popped the trunk—wondering if he was thinking the same thing I was. Without ringing the doorbell or knocking, he walked right inside and went straight for my luggage—smiling at me before carrying it outside.
My mom started talking to me about something, something I couldn’t comprehend if I tried, and the last thing I heard was an “I love you. Have a safe flight,” before she gave me one final embrace.
She and Carter exchanged words, and he grabbed my hand tightly—nearly dragging me toward the car.
As he shut my door, I suddenly remembered that I didn’t get a chance to grab mementos from Gayle’s.
“Carter,” I said, as he put the car in reverse. “I forgot something. Do you think we could—”
“I got you two tins of waffle batter, three cups of their new pancake mix, and a dozen of their newest breakfast cookies. I put them in your luggage already.”
“Oh...Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He forced a smile and continued to drive.