by Ava Zavora
Sera shook her head.
“Would you have let him kiss you, put his hands all over you?”
“He just wanted me to pose for him. That’s all.”
“No!" He exploded. "No way are you going to pose for him!"
“You can’t tell me what to do! I’ll pose for him if I want to!" Sera yelled back, who up until then had no intention of doing so.
“He wants you to pose for him alright.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that he just wants to get you into-"
“Into what, Andrew?”
“Nothing. It’s a line, Sera. He was feeding you lines and you were eating it up. ‘Ooooh, you’re breathtaking.'" He mocked, "'Ooooh, your eyes, your lips.’ It’s a bunch of crap." Andrew yanked the gardenia from her hair and threw it on the floor.
“Oh, right. You’re right. How stupid of me to think that someone would find me pretty. He had to have been giving me a line because I’m so damn ugly, why would anyone want to paint a picture of me?"
Sera slammed a chafing dish down, then strode to the sink, and started to rinse the dishes with a vengeance.
“Don’t try and turn this around on me, Sera. That’s not what I said. And whether he was feeding you lines or not, it still doesn’t change the fact that you were about to let him kiss you!" Andrew’s face was two inches from hers, red with unabated anger.
She stopped washing the dishes and turned to him.
“Nothing would have happened. Believe me. He’s not the one I want to kiss."
They looked at each other without moving, without saying anything. Then Andrew took the plate from her hand and swiftly placed it in the sink, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her to him.
He bent his head.
“Sera?" Miss Haviland called out from the dining room.
They quickly jumped apart as Miss Haviland walked in.
“Your grandmother’s here to pick you up, dear."
Their eyes met, crestfallen.
“Okay." She sighed, defeated, still looking at him. “See you later."
He said nothing as she turned to go.
*****
That night, as she had every night for two weeks, Sera paced her room, unable to calm herself down. Her heart beat too fast, her face was too hot. She was in a raging fever. She put her pillow over her face and screamed as loud as she could into its muffled softness. She wrote in her journal all her pent up frustration but sickened of writing the same thing over and over again.
So completely absorbed was she in her agony that Sera did not at first hear the little taps. When she did hear it, she wondered if it was raining, until she realized that the sounds were from tiny pebbles being thrown at her window. She rushed to her window, pushed the curtain aside and looked out.
Andrew was standing on the driveway to her house, looking up at her. His bike lay at his feet, his upturned face lit by the moon.
Sera quickly climbed onto her desk and slid open her window. She wondered if he could see her face, if he had somehow known that what she had wanted most of all was to see him.
He disappeared under the carport and re-appeared at the edge of her patio gate. He pulled himself up and sat on top of the tall fence, then clambered on top of the carport.
Sera’s heart quickened, wondering if his footsteps only sounded loud to her. She looked over at her closed door, hoping that her grandmother wouldn’t wake up, wouldn’t hear.
Andrew had made his way to the roof of the storage adjoining the first floor of townhouse. He was as near as he could possibly be - there was nowhere to step onto so that he could edge his way to her open window.
“Take off the screen,” he whispered loudly.
“What are you going to do?”
“Just take it off."
Sera carefully unlatched the dusty screen and propped it next to her desk. Then holding onto her window frame, she leaned out and strained towards Andrew.
“You’re too far away,” She whispered, frustrated.
“Move back,” he commanded.
Sera went back into her room. With his heels still on the edge of the storage roof, Andrew stretched his long body to catch a hold of the window ledge, his face stubborn with concentration.
Frightened, Sera leaned out again, “No, don’t, you’ll fall! We’ve waited two weeks, we can wait one more night."
With his fingers grasping the ledge, Andrew swung so that he was dangling from her window. The ground seemed a long way down.
Sera put her hands on her mouth to muffle her small shriek. She scrabbled off her desk and watched as Andrew pulled himself up, grimacing as he did so. He drew up his body, grunting a little, then awkwardly, noisily pulled in his long legs.
“Shhh!" Sera held her finger to her lips. He was too large, too noisy in her silent house. He dwarfed everything in her room.
As he got off her desk, his foot caught the lamp cord, and the lamp fell sideways, making a loud noise. Sera rushed to the lamp before it could fall off the desk, but Andrew had caught her in his arms and his lips were on hers, softly, insistently parting her. His mouth was moist and warm and he smelled of the night air.
She was aflame, she was melting, she dissolved. Her senses were enslaved by this one long, deep, and burning kiss.
When he drew his lips away, hers followed.
“I’ve waited longer than two weeks to kiss you and, no, I couldn’t wait another night,” he murmured before finding her again in the dark.
Still kissing, unable to stop, they fell onto her bed.
Could it be that this world of moist heat, tangled lips and tongues and mingled breaths, of being so close to someone that you could hear his heart beat had existed all along and she had never known it? Was it hours or just moments that they kissed, she couldn’t know. She never wanted it to end.
She could feel his chest through the thin fabric of her shirt, the roughness of his jeans on her bare legs. She never wanted to move from bearing the weight of his body on hers.
He raised his head.
“What is it?” she whispered, still ravenous.
He was looking at her, his hands on either side of her face, searching her eyes and lips, her hair fanned out on her pillow, over the edge of the bed. The moon shone full through her window, its light making his eyes mysterious and intimate. Far from satisfaction, her ache for him only grew sharper.
He buried his face in her hair, groaning softly.
“Why’d you stop?”
“I have to stop now, because I don’t think I’ll be able to stop if we keep going.”
“Is that a riddle?"
Andrew laughed.
Sera quickly put a hand on his mouth.
“Shh! You’ll wake my grandmother!”
“I should leave.”
“No!” Sera put a hand on her own mouth. “No,” she said more quietly. “Don’t leave." She wrapped her legs around his waist tightly as her arms snaked around his neck. “I won’t let you.”
“Christ, Sera, don’t do that." Andrew started to get up, taking her arms off his neck and pushing up from the circle of her legs.
“Was I doing it wrong?"
“Oh, no, no. No." He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand in his mouth. “I just didn’t know it would be so...hard,” he chuckled.
“Don’t you want to kiss me anymore?"
He looked at her, his eyes flashing, “God, yes." She took his hand and pulled him to her.
“Then kiss me until I fall asleep."
“How about if I hold you, like this?" Andrew lay sideways and cradled Sera in the crook of his arm. She snuggled next to him and closed her eyes.
“As long as you don’t leave.”
“But I have to go home sometime. I snuck out,” He whispered as he stroked her hair.
She traced the curve of his Adam’s apple, the length of his jaw, and rested her finger on his lips. His eyes, his face, the pale hair on his tanned arms, the bristly softness of his newly shor
n head, the hard square of his shoulders. His whole body underneath his clothes was a foreign land she was aching to explore. “What have you done to me?"
He lowered his head, his mouth on her neck. “You’re all I think about. I can’t breathe without you in my head, my body, everywhere, even when I close my eyes, you’re there..." Sera arched her neck and moaned, feeling as if every inch of her skin was begging to be touched by those lips.
Unable to stand it any longer, she found his mouth and pushed herself against him, wanting to devour him and, in turn, be devoured by him. She was falling, falling, falling...
He raised his head and edged away from her. “I have to go now." He quickly got up.
“Stay. Please." Sera stayed on the bed, feeling abandoned, her arms outstretched to him.
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Yes, I do." She sat up, her mouth parted.
He looked at her, almost pained. He shook his head.
“No. No, you don’t." He started climbing over her desk to the window. “We’ll see each other tomorrow.”
When she didn’t reply, Andrew stopped, one leg out the window. “Right?"
Sera had her legs drawn up, arms crossed over them.
“Right?” he insisted.
Sera nodded. He sat out the window ledge, then placed his hands on the ledge and turned, before lowering himself.
“See you later, he gasped as he hung on, waiting for her to say goodbye.
Sera moved quickly from the bed and leaned out the window, catching him in one last kiss.
“See you later.”
He swung his legs to the edge of the storage and with one foot on it, inched down the ledge, until both feet were planted squarely on the roof. It took him moments to climb down and then he was picking up his bike.
Sera felt cold and wrapped her arms around her bare shoulders.
He looked back and raised a hand, holding it in the air before riding away.
Chapter 8
If she had to describe the days that followed, Sera would have been at a loss for words. It was made up entirely of her senses, awakening all at once.
How Andrew tasted, sometimes sweetly late at night in her room, other times salty, as in the hot afternoon. How his skin felt, his rough hands, the stubble on his chin grazing her neck, his tongue in her mouth. The fresh way he smelled first thing in the morning and his dizzying, musky scent after he had been laboring all day under the sun. The sound of the wind rushing past them as they drove to the beach or his voice murmuring in her ear as they lay in her bed, the beat of his heart, the quietness between them when they didn’t have to speak at all to know what the other was feeling. The blur of sunlight and green trees as seen from the window of his mother’s van, his face half in shadow as he bent to kiss her. And most of all, the constant yearning that burned hotter than full-blown summer.
School finally ended and they had what seemed like countless days to themselves.
Allison was going away to Baltimore for a month-long visit with her father, arranged before she and Paul started going out. Allison was hysterical, crying nonstop in the days before she had to leave. She could not bear to be torn from Paul, who was gloomy and taciturn as they said their good-byes for the summer. He was going to try and borrow enough money to visit her for a week, but it could not console Allison.
Sera watched them both at the airport, her heart filled with pity for the couple, who clung to each other even as the last boarding call went out. Allison broke free from Paul’s arms and ran to the door, tears streaming down her face as she waved farewell.
It was with guilty relief when Sera saw Andrew afterwards. There was no shadow of such a parting between them. The summer was all theirs and the wide world was waiting to be explored.
One day they made the drive to the city, Andrew behind the wheel of his mother’s van and Sera next to him. They flew down the highway south, past San Rafael, Larkspur, and Tiburon, the golden hills and green trees a blur. They blasted music on the ancient stereo and rolled the windows down for there was no air conditioning. Sera leaned out the window, her heart full, her hair flying out in thick strands in the wind. She watched Andrew as he concentrated on driving, both hands on the wheel.
There was darkness when they entered the tunnel by Sausalito and when they exited in the bright sunlight, she held her breath—the Golden Gate Bridge rose before them, the city shimmering beyond that, floating on the azure waters of the Pacific. It had never looked quite as beautiful before. As they neared San Francisco, she looked up at the massive red towers of the bridge set against a cloudless blue sky, feeling that it was all there just for them on this perfect day.
They parked by Stow Lake then bought hot dogs and sodas at the Swiss-like concession lodge and rented a paddleboat to tour the shallow lake in the middle of Golden Gate Park. They stopped paddling under the stone bridge, where it was cool and dark, and ate their lunch. Ducks swam past and quacked angrily at them. The park smelled of moss and ferns, ancient and woodsy.
After lunch, they circled the island in the middle and when Sera saw the waterfall where Japanese tourists were taking pictures of one another, she was reminded of the one thing she had been wanting to do. Although Andrew was at first reluctant, she convinced him to let her take pictures of him.
They paddled to a shady spot near the Chinese pavilion.
“Do you want me to pose?" Andrew had puffed up his chest and flexed his arms.
“No. Just relax,” she said from behind the lens. “Tell me about your family, your mom and dad, your brothers."
She took a few snapshots as he started, letting him loosen, and waited until he had stopped looking tense and got used to the camera in front of him, then started snapping the real pictures she wanted.
To her he was an explosion of color- from his golden hair to his deep blue eyes. The golden tones of his skin captivated her imagination. She usually preferred black and white, but with Andrew, only color would do him full justice.
She wanted to set on film that expression in his eyes which made her breathless, his mysterious half-smile, the unexpected moment when he laughed, showing all of his teeth, his Adam’s apple bobbing, the lean profile that showed the curve of his cheek and the length of his hard jaw.
She recalled what the man at the party had said to her, of the woman she would become. She wondered about the man that Andrew would become and if she would be there to see it.
“No more pictures,” Andrew said after awhile. “I want to see your face." He reached over and let the camera hang from her neck. “Stop hiding.”
They continued back to where they started and returned the paddle boat. Walking hand in hand, they entered the park and strolled down the main drive, which was closed to cars on Sundays. People on bicycles, surreys, roller blades, and skateboards were freely moving in the middle of the street. They passed sunbathers on the grass taking advantage of a warm, sunny day in the usually cold and foggy city and paused to watch a group of rollerbladers dancing and doing leaps to loud dance music.
Strolling some more, they paused on the bridge by the De Young Museum. There was a sign which read, “Free Swing Lessons on Sundays from 12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m." They looked out below to the grove of trees and benches, at the edge of which was a great stone band shell with a stage. A crowd was dancing to big band music. Sera looked eagerly at Andrew, who looked doubtful. She kept looking up at him, mutely begging.
“I can’t dance,” Andrew had his hands open, palms up.
“We’ll just watch.”
“Okay,” Andrew reluctantly said as Sera pulled him after her.
They made their way to the edge of the stage and watched the dancers, some in jeans and tennis shoes, others in sweats, as if they had been jogging and spontaneously decided to start dancing, while quite a few men wore zoot suits and fedoras, their partners in 40s dresses, bright red lipstick, scarves in their hair and open-toed pumps. Sera started bobbing to the music, her face lighting up as sh
e watched the dancers twirl, feet dancing in dizzying speed, making jumps and flips, all in rhythm to the trumpets and drumbeats of “Jump, Jive, an’ Wail."
Andrew watched Sera as she tapped her feet excitedly to the music, then studied the dancers on stage, paying attention to their feet. He shook his head.
The song ended, then “Rock This Town” came roaring on.
“I love this song!” Sera exclaimed, clasping her hands.
“Let’s go." Andrew grabbed her hand.
“Can’t we just stay for this one?”
“Let’s go do this." Andrew said as he took off her backpack and laid it on the ground.
Sera looked at him open-mouthed, then smiled wide as he moved a few steps and held out his hand. “But we don’t know how to swing-dance.”
“That’s okay, we’ll just make it up as we go along. All they do is throw each other around anyway.”
He put his hand on her waist and she placed her hand on his shoulder, then bopping his head a little, started swaying with her to the music.
“It’s a good thing you’re wearing your boots!" Andrew said as he turned about with her. “Sorry in advance if I step on you." Sera looked up at Andrew and laughed.
“Are you ready?” He shouted over the loud drumbeats and guitar strumming. “We’re gonna rock this town, rock it inside out...” sang Brain Setzer.
“Yes!” she shouted back.
“Okay, hang on!"
Andrew picked her up and twirled her fast. Sera screamed in delight, her hair flying all around her, her skirt flaring out with the wind, beaming at Andrew, who was looking down at her triumphantly. He set her down, did a few turns, then flung her out, pulled her back in and dipped her with a wicked smile.
Sera jumped into Andrew’s arms.
“Whoa!” he laughed as he staggered back. Wrapping her legs around him, her arms entwined about his neck, Sera kissed him as he slowly turned them both to the music.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
A cheer went up as the song ended in a final guitar twang.
“This alright?” he teased with a grin.
She answered him with another long, wet kiss, the music booming over them and everything else forgotten.