by Nia Stephens
Chapter 4
Surf’s Up?
“I’m so glad you picked Christopher,” Maria declared. Gemma had slept on the decision overnight and called Maria once she had picked a boy. Maria had immediately raced over. Now Gemma sat on her bed petting LeBron, watching Maria gush over Christopher.
“It’s the obvious choice.”
“Ya think?” Gemma asked, surprised. She thought Maria would have been shocked that she chose Christopher. She had surprised herself with her choice!
“Let me break it down for you.” Maria began to elaborate on her theories about why none of the other boys on the website were right for Gemma but Gemma figured Maria would do the same thing no matter who she chose.
As Gemma listened she realized Maria was more into this than she was! But she supposed that’s what friends were for—to drag you kicking and screaming into something you weren’t quite sure you wanted to do.
“So that makes him the logical choice: Christopher, the surfer dude.”
“First of all, would you stop calling him the surfer dude? Every time you say that I picture some guy out of an eighties movie that says ‘dude’ at the beginning and end of every sentence.”
“I’ll try to restrain myself,” Maria said.
“Second of all, you gave a bunch of reasons why I shouldn’t go out with the other guys but didn’t provide one reason why I should go out with Christopher.”
“Here’s the most important reason,” Maria said, holding up the printout of his picture. “I’m sorry. I thought you already saw this. Dude look good.”
Gemma studied the photo of the gorgeous blond guy with blue eyes. She didn’t have a problem with white guys, she just had never thought about actually dating one.
“What about my dad?” she asked.
“What about him?”
“Do you honestly think he wants to see me with some white guy? We’re from the hood, remember?”
“You mean your parents are from the hood. You were born and raised in Laguna Beach, so don’t even front.”
Gemma couldn’t help laughing. “True. But I swear, he always gives me this freaky sideways look whenever I bring home a white guy study partner.”
“Gemma,” Maria said seriously. “Your father gives you a freaky sideways look when you bring a black guy home as a study partner. It’s the guy part of the equation that’s causing the problem.”
“My point is,” Gemma said, trying again to get Maria to understand, “he is always complaining about working with The Man. What happens when his only daughter brings The Man home?”
“You’re bringing home The Man’s son,” Maria joked. “Call him The Boy. No wait, in this case, call him The Dude.”
Gemma tossed a pillow at Maria’s head. “The Costa Rican hottie has jokes today.”
Maria ducked. “Chill out,” she said, laughing. “You’re just going out on a date, not marrying the guy.” She grabbed Gemma’s shoulders and gently steered her toward the computer. “Just e-mail him. You already picked him. So go for it.”
“Should I tell him I’m black?” Gemma asked.
“D-uh. I think he can figure that out from your picture.”
“Oh right. Well, here goes nothing.”
“Hey, there’s my girl,” Gemma’s father said when she walked in the front door after walking LeBron. “My girls,” he corrected himself when Maria followed Gemma inside.
“What are you doing home?” Gemma asked.
Her father patted her on the shoulder. “I’m surprising your mother and taking her out to dinner tonight. If that’s okay with milady, of course.”
“ ’Tis fine with me, milord,” Gemma joked.
“Fine with me, too,” Maria added.
“Oh, before I forget,” her father called as they headed up the stairs, “I won’t be able to attend your game next week.”
Gemma stopped and turned to look at him. “Why?” She loved having her dad at the games.
He sighed. “You know I would be if I could. But The Man has got me dealing with some case files that have been backlogged for years. The partners want me to clean up their mess.”
At the phrase The Man, Maria and Gemma exchanged a look. Gemma’s said You see? while Maria’s expression said Don’t sweat it.
“Okay,” Gemma said. “But you’d better be at the next one.”
“I promise.”
They hurried into Gemma’s room and shut the door. “Why did I let you talk me into e-mailing Christopher?” Gemma said.
“Me? No, chica,” Maria said, waggling a finger in front of Gemma’a face. “You made the decision. I only helped you act on it.”
Gemma had to admit Maria was right—she was the one who had chosen Christopher. There was something about him that intrigued her.
Maria sat at the desk and turned on the computer. “Let’s see if he wrote you back yet.”
“I almost hope he didn’t,” Gemma confessed.
“I don’t see why you’re acting all nervous about this. You were fine with it this morning.”
“Yeah, that was before my dad started complaining about The Man again. I told you he—”
Maria squealed, cutting off Gemma. “He wrote you back!”
Gemma hurried over and stood behind Maria, who glanced up at her and asked, “So ... should I open it?”
“Let me.” Gemma switched places with Maria.
“As long as the e-mail doesn’t say that he wants to drink your blood for breakfast, then it’s all good,” Maria said. “He probably can’t wait to meet you!”
Gemma clicked open the e-mail. Despite her concerns, she felt flutters of excitement.
Maria reached over Gemma’s shoulder and pointed to the computer screen. “Look, he asked you out! And he gave you his number if you want to talk to him first.”
“Do you think I should?” Gemma asked.
“You bet! Dial!”
On the first ring, Gemma’s heart felt like it was about to pound right out of her chest. On the second ring, she became short of breath. On the third, she calmed down. Who let their phone ring three times unless they’re not there? She was about to hang up when she heard—
“Hello?”
Gemma’s mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. She looked at Maria. With her hand, Maria motioned for her to keep the conversation rolling.
“Uh, hello, Christopher?”
“Yes?”
“Hi, this is Gemma. I e-mailed you this morning and—”
“Oh, hi, Gemma. What great timing. I was just telling a friend about you!”
“Really?” She smiled and nodded at Maria. “And what exactly were you telling your boy about me?” Gemma asked flirtatiously.
“All good. I said how impressed I am with your basketball talents. From your profile it sounds like you’ve got skills and are passionate about your thing. That’s exactly how I feel about surfing. When I get out on the waves, I feel like it’s my job to be the best. Sometimes you have a bad day but when you’re on—” He hesitated for a minute trying to find the right words. “When you’re on, it’s all that.”
Gemma nodded in agreement. “I know the feeling. I’ve never tried surfing but it’s just like that with basketball.”
This conversation wasn’t at all akin to a root canal, as she had feared. She looked over at Maria again, who was beaming as if she were watching her baby take her first steps.
“I’d love to give you surfing lessons sometime,” Christopher said. “Maybe we could meet up at the beach and I’ll introduce you to surfing and then you can school me on some hoops.”
Gemma thought he sounded cute when he said school me on some hoops. “That sounds great.”
“How about tomorrow?”
Taken by surprise, all she could do was blurt, “Sure.” As soon as she said yes, she realized she was glad she had. They agreed to a time and a place and hung up.
“Guess who’s coming to dinner?” Gemma joked.
“Christopher is coming over f
or dinner?”
Gemma rolled her eyes. “Hello? It’s a joke. Remember the movie with Sidney Poitier when his character started dating the white woman?”
“No.”
“Never mind.”
Maria hopped off the bed. “Anyway, I said you would like him. Was I right or was I right?”
“When you’re right, you’re right.”
Once Maria went home, Gemma started to feel nervous again about going out with Christopher. Time for more expert advice.
She went downstairs, took a seat at the kitchen table and watched her mom putting the finishing touches on a pie. Using a fork, her mom was making tiny indentations on the outer edges of her piecrust. As her mom sprinkled cinnamon onto the top, Gemma found herself wondering when exactly her mom had become so domesticated. Back in her career days, her mother was a powerhouse professor who was barely home, and certainly spent little time in the kitchen. But now, in a complete one-eighty, her mother seemed to relish all the little details of homemaking. Gemma also found herself wondering about something else. “Mom, have you ever dated a white guy?”
In mid-sprinkle, her mom stopped and slowly turned around. “Where did that come from?”
“Just asking,” Gemma responded.
Her mother turned back around and continued with her sprinkling. “No, I haven’t, but I’ve been good friends with men of all races. In my profession I worked with mostly men and had to get along with them.”
“I just agreed to a date with a white guy,” Gemma blurted.
Her mother kept sprinkling. “Really?”
“Yes,” Gemma said. “How do you think Dad will react?”
Her mother laughed. “The way he would react to you dating any other guy.” She turned to look at Gemma. “Your father doesn’t have a problem with Caucasians, he has a problem with intolerance and bad behavior. Whatever the person’s race.” Her mother paused a moment and then asked, “Is he a nice boy who will respect you? Because that’s the really important criterion. His race isn’t the most important thing about him. It’s values that count.”
Gemma nodded. “Makes sense.”
Dr. Williams turned back to her pie. “So when are you going to tell him?”
“I don’t know,” Gemma said. She came up behind her mother and wrapped her arms around her. “Unless you want to tell him for me.”
“No way. I’m out of this one,” she said, shaking her head. “Besides, I think it should come from you.”
“You’re right. Thanks, Mom,” Gemma said, giving her mother a kiss on the cheek. She headed back upstairs to her room, feeling better about the whole thing.
Chapter 5
Sex on the Beach
Gemma attempted to shield her eyes from the blaring sun, scanning the beach for Christopher. She was still a little leery about dating out of her race because she never really had before. But when she had spoken to Christopher on the phone he didn’t really seem very different from any of the other boys she’d dated. She was still a bit worried about her father’s reaction but when she told him she was going to the beach, he never even asked with whom. Instead he just asked if she needed any money and then told her to have a good time. She walked out of her front door with a more relaxed feeling and an extra fifty in her purse.
Although she didn’t know what to expect from this date, she did decide to go sexy in her brand-new white string bikini and a jean skirt. If it got colder in the evening—if she were even out here that long—she brought a sweater. She clipped on a long ponytail and wore her favorite Chanel sunglasses—the ones Maria had given her for her birthday. No harm in looking good, right?
She gazed out at the surf and spotted several guys doing crazy tricks on their boards. One was flipping around like he had been doing this all his life. She was truly impressed with his skills. It sort of reminded her of some of the showboating she did out on the court. If she couldn’t find Christopher, Wave Dude out there would be a great consolation prize. Finally the guy made his way to shore. As soon as he hit the sand Gemma got a clear view of his face. It was Christopher. Immediately recognizing her, he headed straight toward her.
“Gemma?” he asked, extending his hand.
She nodded as she took his soaking wet hand. Then without warning, he plopped his surfboard onto the sand and grabbed her, giving her a huge, wet hug.
“You did that on purpose,” she complained, laughing. She gazed down at her now damp clothes.
He winked at her and smiled. Gemma thought he looked even better than his picture. He was at least six inches taller than her and his body was cut to perfection. It was all lean muscle. His tanned complexion made his blond hair look even lighter, and his blue eyes, bluer. He obviously spent a lot of time outdoors.
“You looked good out there,” Gemma said.
“And you look good here,” he responded.
Gemma ducked her head shyly, not wanting him to see how pleased she was. “Hey,” she said, regaining her composure. “You promised to show me some surfing moves.”
“Of course!” Christopher said with his bright, broad smile. “A promise is a promise.”
“I’ve always wanted to try surfing but I never knew anyone who could teach me.” Translation: She didn’t hang out with white boys much.
“I’ll show you on shore first and once you feel ready, we can hit the waves.” He directed her onto his board lying in the sand. He then positioned himself behind her. Gently he grabbed her hips. He was standing so close she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. He showed her how to maneuver her body and adjust her balance. She was incredibly aware of his body pressed into hers, of his strong, muscled arms moving hers.
“You’re good for a beginner,” he commented.
“That’s my competitive nature,” she told him. “I love to try new things.”
He grinned. “New things, huh? So is this something new for you?”
This time it was Gemma’s turn to grin. Somehow she did not think he was referring to surfing.
“You want to hit the waves before it gets too dark?” he asked. “There’s only so much you can learn onshore.”
Gemma thought about it, but decided to make sure her hair stayed intact. “No, I’ll save that for next time,” she told him. That was a good thing to say—it indicated she wanted to see him again.
He smiled that movie-star smile again. “Good, because I have something special planned for us,” he told her. He took her hand and led her to a little group of rocks near a dune. “Let’s build a fire and hang out for a little while. Do you like toasted marshmallows?”
“Love ’em. But where are you going to get marshmallows around here?”
Christopher reached behind one of the rocks and pulled out two bags of gooey marshmallows. “I keep my own private little stash right here.”
“Got a fireplace in there, too?”
“Hey, you never know. I’m big on surprises.”
The sun had set and the moon was high in the sky. Christopher and Gemma were wrapped in a soft cozy blanket that he had pulled out from behind another one of those rocks. He definitely was full of surprises.
“So have you ever dated a white guy before?” he asked, catching her completely off guard.
“Oh, yeah. Plenty,” she lied.
He stared her down. “You serious?”
She shook her head. “Not really. You?”
“Dated a white guy? Never.”
She laughed as she nudged him in his side. “No, dated a black girl?”
He shook his head. “This is my first time, too.”
She snuggled a little closer in his arms. She was surprised how comfortable she felt with him, and so quickly. He was laid-back and liked to have a good time. Like her, he was also competitive and athletic. And the guy was seriously good-looking.
“So what’s the craziest thing you ever did?” he asked.
Gemma thought for a moment. Crazy? Did she ever have any crazy moments?
“Your hesitation leads
me to believe that either A, you have never done anything really out of the box or B, you have done something completely wild and are too embarrassed to say. And then there’s C.”
“What’s C?” Gemma asked.
“C is doing something you think was perfectly sane but everyone else will tell you was extreme.”
Gemma shook her head. “I’ll have to say none of the above.”
She looked at him, expecting him to challenge her. Instead, he leaned over and softly kissed her lips. Still comfortably nestled under the blanket, Gemma arranged herself so that they were now face-to-face. As they continued with their kiss, she felt his fingertips flutter up and down her back, eventually resting on her backside. She could not remember a kiss that had made her feel like this before. It was sweet yet passionate.
Slowly, his fingers found their way to her front where they rested on her breasts. While still kissing him, Gemma gently maneuvered them off her chest. Seconds later, his hands found their way back to her breasts. This time she pulled away.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Gemma found herself trying to figure out how she was going to explain her situation to him. She wasn’t a prude but she definitely had not been around the block. And she was certainly not ready to have her first time with a guy she had just met.
She decided on the safest approach without giving away too much information. “I just think we should slow down.” When she saw the disappointment in his face, she added, “There’s plenty of time for that.”
She was relieved when he smiled at her.
“That’s okay. I don’t want to rush you into anything you’re not ready for,” he said.
“I appreciate that,” Gemma responded. She was a little surprised, though, when he wriggled out of the blanket and stood.
“I guess we should be going,” he said, starting to pack up.
“I guess so ...” Gemma hid her disappointment as he walked her to her car.
“Well, here you are,” he said.
Gemma took his hand. “I hope I’ll see you again.” She wanted to be sure he knew that even though she put the brakes on while they were making out, she was definitely interested.