“That’s not what I mean. It’s just, you always have a girlfriend. And, well, I’ve never had a boyfriend.”
“But it’s never felt like this with anyone. And it’s not just about the kiss. Although it was pretty awesome. It’s more than that. I know we don’t really know each other, but I feel completely connected to you, Kylie. I can’t explain it. I can talk to you. Really talk. Being here in Mexico, it’s been such an insane experience, in a good way. And being away from La Jolla, away from Freiburg, it’s made me realize how boring things have been. How boring I’ve gotten. I’ve built a wall around myself and I don’t let much in.”
Max stops and breathes in. I don’t say a thing.
“I don’t want that anymore. I want to explore life, and so do you. I love that about you. When we kissed, it just, I don’t know, kind of blew me away. I know it all sounds so corny, but you can’t deny it. There’s something here. And we’d be idiots to just walk away from it. I don’t think this happens all the time, Kylie. I mean, I’ve had a lot of girlfriends and I’ve never felt like this.”
“Please, do tell me more about the multiple girlfriends. That is so sexy.”
“Seriously, Kylie. I want to talk about this. And I never want to talk about anything. I don’t know if you’re scared or you don’t feel the same—”
“I feel the same,” I blurt. “And I’m scared.”
“Me too.”
Strange as it sounds, I believe him. The great Max Langston is scared and nervous, just like me. We’re not all that different.
We look at each other for a moment. I think we’re both trying to make sense of things. It’s not entirely clear, but as I look at him, it’s coming into sharper focus. I realize I’ve made my decision. I’m going for it, whatever the consequences, Lily or no Lily, even though it may only last for one night. Whatever this is, I don’t want it to end. Hopefully, I’m not being naïve. At the very least, we’ll have tonight, which is more than I would have had yesterday.
My hand slides over the wooden planks and I place it on top of his, closing the distance between us. He squeezes my hand tightly.
“I can’t make you any promises, Kylie. All I’m saying is, I like you. A lot. I can’t talk like this to anyone else. You’re funny. And smart. Very smart. And sexy. And weird. And a little bit of a head case.”
“I’m a total head case.”
“Maybe, but it’s sexy. Really sexy.”
Max flashes me a huge grin. God, he’s gorgeous.
“So can we just be with each other and see what happens?”
“Yes. We can. We totally can,” I say.
And then, without thinking too much about it, I climb on top of Max and slowly, very slowly, lean down until our faces are nearly touching. I float over him for a moment, studying his face, his features, and then I kiss him. And he kisses me. And our mouths open and the world disappears, and it’s just me and Max alone in the universe. Nothing matters except for tonight. And if that’s all we end up with after everything is said and done, it’s enough. Because right here, right now, is all that matters. I don’t want to be anyone but Kylie Flores kissing Max Langston in Ensenada.
ou having fun?” Juan whispers in my ear as we bump and grind with a bunch of boys.
“Yes,” I say, trying to sound cool, calm, and collected. But what I really want to do is shout it to the world. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
I’ve been waiting for this moment to arrive forever, and now that it’s finally here, it’s even better than I could have imagined.
I’ve got my hands in the air, I’m dancing up a storm, sweating like a pig. Some of my moves feel a little rusty, but, frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn. I’m enjoying myself far too much to care. This is the best night of my life. If only it didn’t have to end in the morning.
I saw Kylie and Max making out on the dance floor (which was almost as shocking as the fact that I’ve been making out on the dance floor), but the next thing I knew, they were flying out the door, like fighter jets off to war. Normally, I’d be worried and chasing Kylie down the street, making sure she’s okay. But I haven’t got time for the pain. I’ve got one night only. One night to make Juan mine. And if I do, who knows what can happen next? A whole world of wonderful. At least that’s what I’m gunning for.
Hopefully, girlfriend can take care of herself while I’m taking care of myself. Or, rather, Juan is taking care of me. How awesome would that be if Kylie and I both lost our virginity on the very last night of school? Talk about bringing back a rocking souvenir from Mexico. Fingers crossed.
“Can I have this dance, gorgeous?” Juan’s high school friend Antonio asks me.
I turn to Juan to make sure it’s okay. “You cool with that?” I ask him.
“By all means. Everyone wants a piece of the beautiful new boy in town,” Juan says.
Beautiful new boy? Who? Me? I look around to make sure Juan isn’t talking about someone behind me, in front of me, to the left or the right of me. He’s not. He’s looking straight at me with his baby blues. Hot much? Be still, my heart.
Antonio, meanwhile, is quite the specimen. They know how to grow these boys in Mexico. And he wants to dance with me. Me! That is the freaking craziest thing I’ve ever heard. It’s like an alternate universe here in Ensenada, where the duckling is a swan. I’m handsome, suave, and popular. I could get used to this.
As Antonio and I shake our booties to the Scissor Sisters, I’m beginning to question my decision to return to La Jolla in the morning. I promised Kylie a ride back, but if tonight goes well, why bother trucking over the border when I’ve found paradise right here in Ensenada? Does it get any better than this? I highly doubt it.
Juan is staying in Ensenada for the summer. Maybe I should stand by my man. Though Kylie has to be at graduation, there is no pressing need for me to be there. Or anywhere but here, for that matter. The only sticking point is that Juan isn’t exactly out to his family. The macho Latino culture is a bitch. But I can help with that. Coming out is my forte.
Sure, Mom and Dad will be bummed that I’ve missed graduation, but I’ll make it up to them by losing the women’s clothes and dressing like a guy, for the first time in years. Dad will be so happy he’ll probably start handing out cigars. I just hope Kylie will understand when I hand her the passports and put her and Max on the first bus back to San Diego.
have no idea how long we’ve been making out on the pier. As far as I’m concerned, the world could end here and now. Because everything I never knew I wanted, I just received. Thank you, more please, Max Langston. We’re sitting up now, having gotten a few splinters from rolling around on the wood. I’m on Max’s lap and his arms are wrapped around my waist as his lips work their way toward my ear. His tongue plays with the fleshy part of the lobe and it’s so pleasurable I’m not sure I can bear it. Who knew my earlobes were so sensitive? How can someone be this good at kissing? His lips, his tongue, his teeth, they all work as a team, constantly doing new things, reinventing themselves. Just when I think he’s exhausted his repertoire, he’ll gently bite my lip and then his tongue will work magic somewhere new in my mouth, or on my neck, finding sweet spots I never knew existed.
“Look.” Max points out toward the horizon. His face pulls away from mine, and I feel like someone has cut off my oxygen.
And then I see it. A pod of dolphins has swum into the harbor and is leaping out of the water, spinning in the air and splashing back down. Max and I watch, mesmerized by their show. A few fireworks pop in the sky. Ensenada is going all out tonight. I guess it was a dolphin I saw earlier. My luck appears to be turning around, at least for today. I’m seeing stars, dolphins, and fireworks. And liking it. I’ve suddenly gone all soft, which is fine by me.
I jump up and look down at Max. “I’m going swimming, Langston. You coming?”
I don’t even care if Max sees my big old butt. Maybe he’ll like it. Maybe he won’t. I just want to splash around in the ocean, under the stars, while a full moon light
s up the night sky. This is one moment that’s not going to pass me by.
“Hell, yeah!” Max says. “But what about the eels?”
“I had forgotten about them, but thanks for reminding me.”
“Sorry, my bad. Still going in?”
“I’m going to take on the eels. You with me?”
“All the way,” Max says, standing up and pulling off his shirt. His chest is so exquisite, so perfectly sculpted, my heart skips a beat. Is this really happening?
I pull my dress off, standing in front of Max in my bra and underwear. If he’s going to think I’m fat, might as well let him have at it.
Max’s eyes graze my body. I can feel them moving from my neck down over my breasts and resting on my stomach. He reaches out and touches me softly with his fingers. His hands wander over my body. I want to kiss him again, but he’s keeping me at a distance, just touching me. It feels so nice. His hands wind their way along my sides until both palms rest on either side of my butt.
Why isn’t he saying anything? Does he think I’m fat? I’m certainly plumper than bony Lily Wentworth. I mean, baby got back. I’m Latino. And Jewish. I like to eat. What can I say? I’m not a stick and I never will be. Say something, Max.
“You have the most beautiful body, Kylie. I can’t believe you hide it away in those baggy jeans.”
What? “Shut up,” is all that comes to mind. Brilliant.
“I’m serious, Kylie. I love your ass. All the girls at Freiburg are so skinny. You’ve got a perfect ass.”
“No way.” Another genius retort. It’s official, I’m a blathering idiot.
And then, because I can’t really discuss my ass any longer, I rush toward the edge of the pier, soar off the edge and into the water. It’s warm, silky, and bubbly. It feels like swimming in champagne. Max throws off his jeans and dives in after me. He swims up to me, takes hold of my hands, and we float together as the gentle waves toss us about. The dolphins play a few hundred yards away. The fireworks have finished—the literal ones, that is. Metaphorical ones are going off at an ever increasing speed.
“If you put your head underwater, you’ll be able to hear the dolphins speaking to each other,” Max says.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I used to do it as a kid. It kind of sounds like little clicking noises. Wait, I’ll try.”
Max plunges under the water, stays down for a few seconds, then pops back up.
“You can totally hear them. Go see.”
I take a deep breath and submerge myself. After a second or two I hear it, little clicks and screeches. It’s unmistakable. It sounds like they’re chattering away in a foreign language. I come back up to the surface.
“Very cool!”
“I know. It’s hard to hear them in San Diego. Too many people. They don’t come this close to shore.”
“What do you think they’re saying?”
“Probably talking about corruption in Mexico. I don’t think they’re fans of Felipe Calderón.”
“Listen to you, talking Mexican geopolitics.”
“Just trying to impress you. How am I doing?”
“You’ve impressed me, Langston. Enough already. I’m starting to feel like an underachiever here.”
Max leans in and kisses me. We bob up and down and side to side as we attempt to kiss, breathe, and somehow stay afloat.
Max points to the pier. “Check it out. Total crowd scene happening out there.”
I look to the pier and notice that people have gathered on the dock, men in suits, woman in dresses like mine.
“You think they’re watching us?” I ask.
“Definitely. They heard about the Americans swimming in their underwear in the harbor and they’ve come down to check it out.”
“Oh my God.”
“Kylie, no one cares about us.”
“I’ve never gone swimming in the ocean at night before. Ever.”
“Seriously? Night swimming is the best.”
“This is amazing. If I lived here I would do this every night,” I tell Max.
“If I lived here I would have a little boat, and I’d take us out on the water at night, maybe a little sangria, some of those tripe tacos. We’d lay back and look at the stars as we tool around the harbor. It’d be sweet.”
“You are sweet, Max Langston.”
“You are amazing, Kylie Flores.”
I can’t help myself, I’m giddy and grinning from ear to ear. I’m barely recognizable even to myself, and I’m liking that a lot.
“What are you smiling at?” Max asks me.
“I’m having a great night.”
“Me too.”
I lie on my back in the water, moving my hands just enough to keep me afloat. The stars are blazing above me. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Even though I know there might be an expiration date on this kind of thing.
elicidades!” someone yells out for the fifth time in ten minutes, and we all drink. Again. A guy appears and refills our plastic cups. Where did he come from? And how much tequila do they have? An endless supply? We’ve been knocking back shots with the crowd on the pier since we got out of the water, about a half hour ago. People have gathered here for some kind of massive wedding. We hopped out of the water, practically naked and smack into the ceremony. We tried to bail, but no one was having it. So we got dressed and joined the party, as we’ve joined every party that would have us since arriving in Ensenada. Man, these people know how to live it up.
Kylie holds her glass up to mine. “To Saint John the Baptist. I think he seems like a very cool dude. And he throws a kick-ass party.”
Kylie clinks glasses with me and downs what must be her fourth shot. I’ve had three and am really starting to feel it, so she’s got to be pretty blasted at this point.
“Maxie, wassup? You’re not drinking?” Kylie asks me.
Maxie? Definitely way wasted.
“I’m taking a break. You might want to do that as well.”
“Don’t think so. I’m feeling gooood. Wanna feel even better.”
“You don’t want to get sick.”
Suddenly I’m the responsible dude. This is not my thing, but I’m worried about Kylie, and I never really worry about anyone. Usually I let people take care of themselves, but there’s something about Kylie that’s vulnerable and fragile. I want to protect her. Giving her valedictorian speech with a nasty headache is going to be brutal. She has no idea.
“Oh my God, look at you. You’re such a little worrywart,” Kylie says, slurring her words. She’s got it bad. She’s going to have one wicked hangover in the morning, but, man, she is hot as hell right now, with her eyes at half-mast and that one dimple on her left cheek.
Kylie goes to grab my arm, misses, and nearly falls over. I catch her. She collapses into me. I don’t mind. I love the feel of her body next to mine. It just…fits. She smells like an ocean-and-tequila cocktail. It’s a potent mix. I want to lie down right here on the pier with her. Unfortunately, we’re in the middle of a massive group wedding. My timing is a little off. Maybe later.
A priest is in the process of marrying couple after couple. It’s a tradition, at midnight, on St. John the Baptist. After each mini-wedding, everyone drinks, and Kylie has thrown herself into things with abandon. So far, ten new marriages. Five more to go. Most of the brides wear dresses just like Kylie’s. And the grooms wear tuxedos. I can’t tell if this is serious or not. Are these people married now? Is this just some elaborate party ritual? Because the tequila is a big part of it, that’s for sure. I think the priest might even be taking a shot every now and then.
The crowd yells out, “¡Felicidades!” again.
“¡Felicidades!” Kylie screams, practically in my ear.
Everyone lifts their glass. Another one bites the dust. The couple kisses and then swerves off down the pier.
“That priest is churning ’em out,” Kylie says. “You think he gets some kind of kickback for each wedding? Maybe he works on commission?”
I laugh. She’s still damn funny, even toasted.
A man approaches us with a fresh bottle of tequila. We’ve moved on from Patrón to the off-label stuff, maybe brewed at home. Things are deteriorating rapidly. Kylie shoves her glass out for the man to fill. I put my hand over it.
“I’m cutting you off,” I say.
Kylie frowns. She looks so freaking cute, I move in to kiss her, but she pulls away.
“I want to get my drink on,” Kylie says.
“I’m saving you from yourself. How are you going to speak tomorrow?”
“I’ll worry about that tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I say. “Fill us up.”
He does and we both drink. The liquor burns my throat, but the warmth that flows afterward feels good. I’m really buzzed. Things are getting a little fuzzy around the edges.
“Are you two next?” I turn around to see the priest standing behind us.
“Yes! Totally!” Kylie says.
I turn to Kylie. “What are you doing?”
“We’re getting married, Maxie,” Kylie says, pulling me into a hug. “I want to do this.” She stares at me. Her big golden eyes couldn’t be more serious. Is this the alcohol or Kylie talking? Or a combination? She wants to get married? Seriously?
As I stare into Kylie’s face, I realize I’ve never wanted to do anything more. Kylie looks so fucking beautiful. This is the most romantic, exciting, awesome night of my life. I think I’ve fallen for Kylie Flores. Hard.
“I dare you to marry me, Langston,” Kylie says.
“You’re on,” I say. “Let’s do this.”
Kylie and I come crashing together in our drunkenness and euphoria. We kiss wet and sloppy. I get down on one knee.
“Marry me, Flores,” I say.
“I thought you’d never ask, Langston.”
“Do you have the rings?” the priest asks.
“We forgot our rings. Do you have any extra?” Kylie asks.
“I always bring extra. People forget the most important thing,” the priest says, handing Kylie two gold rings that probably came out of an old-fashioned gum ball machine. Kylie holds on to one and hands me the other.
From What I Remember Page 21