He gives me a hand and pulls me out of the water. This is the fifth time we’ve done this.
“I’m just too exhausted,” I say, trying to justify my failure.
“Yeah,” he says. “I’m kinda exhausted too.”
We sit down on the ground and relax. My eyes are locked on the lake in front of me, but I can see Jake looking at me in my periphery.
“We can practice again tomorrow. I’m sure you’re gonna master that move eventually. You were really close that last time.”
I know that he’s lying. I wasn’t close to anything. I’m as bad as I was when we started, but I don’t want to think about that now.
I just lie down on the ground and let the wind dry my sodden clothes and skin. There is practically no sun over here amid the thick foliage, but the random bits of sky peeking out from above the tree-tops make for a fantastic view.
Jake lies down next to me and our shoulders touch.
“It’s beautiful over here,” he whispers. “Isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
And then we just lay there, motionless, silent, exhausted. At one point, I swear I feel the warmth of his fingers inching closer to my hand. I anticipate his touch. For all I know, he already did it, back in school, in the library, when he put his hand over my hand. I’m sure, after all the touching we’ve done today him touching my hand now wouldn’t be that much out of line or anything. But the moment I’m starting to search for the words to protest, the warmth shifts away slowly. He decided not to do it then. Good! Because I’m not sure that I would have been able to stop him.
Honestly, if he decided to kiss me right now, he would probably meet no resistance on my part. It’s gonna take me some time to get back to defense mode, get protective over my relationship with Mitch again. As of this moment, I’m completely vulnerable. Maybe he knows that. Maybe he doesn’t want to take advantage. Jake is not a bad guy after all.
I wish he was bad though. I wish he was a horrible person. That would have made my life so much easier. I wouldn’t need to decide then, between the two of them.
Though I’m afraid I already chose Mitch.
17
Jake and I part ways about an hour later. Nothing happened, of course. We just laid there under the trees, mostly silent, occasionally sprinkling in some meaningless chit chat.
It was nice though. Comfortable. A little too comfortable for my liking.
I’m headed to meet up with Melissa and Kenan now. The heated, luxury, olympic-sized swimming pool is a hot spot this time of year, unlike the lake.
“Hey,” I say to plopping down onto a beach towel. She is staring at Kenan, who can clearly be seen playing tennis with Eric across the way. Apparently Kenan took my advice.
“Oh, hey,” she says, turning to face me.
“What’s up?”
“Kenan and Eric are playing tennis,” she says, looking on enviously.
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“Kenan asked him and he said yes,” she explains.
“Yes, to play tennis,” I say with a grin. “You’re taking this whole Eric thing a little too far, don’t you think?”
“You don’t think that there’s more to it, right?”
“They are playing tennis, Melissa,” I say. “What more can there be?”
“I don’t know,” she grumbles. “I’ve just never seen Kenan so active before.”
“Are you afraid he’s gonna beat you to the punch?”
“No!” she protests. “Eric is not gay!”
“Right…” I say, trying to sound objective. “Did you ask him out?”
“Yeah,” she says, still staring at the tennis court..
“And? What did he say?”
“What do you mean what did he say? He said yes! Of course,” she turns back to me. Of course he did. “Straight boys” don’t just say no to a girl like Melissa.
“So you’re gonna go out?” I ask again to clarify.
“Yes, we’re gonna go “out”,” she mimics. “I suggested we go catch a movie. Did you know we had an open air movie theatre?”
“Do we?” I ask, feigning innocence.
“I was wracking my brain, trying to figure out what to do on our first date and then I saw it on the Crest Hollows map, a movie theatre. Perfect!”
“Great! Good for you,” I say, far too enthusiastically. I lie down on my towel.
“Are you sure you want to go out with him?” I ask, sitting up again. While I’m happy that she’s convinced that Eric is straight and therefore less likely to link him to me, I don’t want her to get hurt.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean what if he’s gay?”
“Why would you think he’s gay?” she glares at me.
“I don’t know. Let’s just assume that he is. You wouldn’t want to get hurt, right?”
“But he’s not gay,” she says, ever persistent.
“Okay,” I acquiesce and lie down again.
I make it several seconds before my conscience bursts in again. “But what if he was gay, what would you do then?”
“He is not gay, Sam! I know gays. I have you two,” she says, gesturing between me and Kenan.
“So you’re not gonna accept even the slightest possibility that he is gay?”
“No,” she replies and lies down. She closes her eyes to indicate that this conversation is over.
“Okay.” Can’t say I didn’t try.
I decide to classify this mess as “Melissa’s Problem” in my mind, but as much as I try to relax and enjoy the beautiful spring air, I just can’t let go. It keeps bugging me.
Why did I think that it would be different? It’s practically my birthday, for God’s sake. My birthdays are never easy.
18
After dinner service that night, Eric and I head out to the boathouse behind the lake. The manager of the resort needed someone to drag all of our boats to shore for an event, and desperate as I am for cash, I volunteered. Eric’s motivations are less clear, though I suspect he’s just here for me.
The work is back-breaking. The boathouse is situated about a hundred yards from the shore and each boat is about ten feet long and weighs roughly two-hundred pounds. There are twenty of them, and they just keep getting heavier...
By boat nineteen, both of us are out of breath and totally spent. After we get it tied down and secured in the water, we crash. I don’t think I’m even able to move anymore. My arms and legs feel like cooked spaghetti.
“Jesus!” Eric exclaims.
“I know, right?” I say. I’m trying to get my breathing under control.
“What number was it?”
“Nineteen,” I reply.
He winces and groans.“I was hoping I miscalculated.”
“You didn’t. There’s one more waiting for us.” I can’t even imagine getting up, let alone carrying another boat.
“Let’s just leave it there,” Eric suggests. “Nobody will notice. What’s the big difference, nineteen boats or twenty boats? Who cares?”
“Administration cares. Do you want to get paid or what?”
He thinks about it. The thought of not getting paid because of one boat out of twenty is painful.
“We gotta do it,” I tell him.
“Okay, okay,” he grunts. “Just give me five more minutes to work up the motivation.”
“Money is pretty good motivation,” I grumble, though I don’t want to get up just yet either.
“A buck and a half per boat?” he asks. “No, that’s not gonna do it.”
“Do you have something better in mind?”
“I do actually,” he says. I’m about to start protesting his thoughtless idea to argue with administration, but instead he says, “Let’s fool around.”
He looks at me and then at the boathouse, indicating exactly what he has in mind.
“What do you mean?” I ask, stupidly.
“What do you think?” he grins, standing up. “This boat house is a perfect place to get naked.�
��
The idea of getting naked with Eric in this secluded part of the resort, in an empty boathouse, after hours of hard work, is very appealing actually. I don’t know why, but hard work actually makes me horny. Or maybe it’s all of this fresh air.
“Come on,” Eric says as he takes his T-shirt off. I haven’t seen him without his T-shirt off before. He has a beautifully lean body.
He starts running towards the boathouse. I guess he found his motivation after all. I’m just not sure that this kind of motivation is good for me.
It works regardless.
19
“Eric?” I say into the darkness.
“Over here,” he responds from a distant corner. I can only see his silhouette. A naked silhouette.
“Come closer,” he says in a jokingly enticing manner. “You know you want to.”
I do want to. I want to see him naked. I want to touch him. I want him to touch me. So, like a well-trained dog, I go.
I find his hand in the darkness and let him pull me in.
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, but once they do… He is beautiful in all his naked glory. His body is perfect. He doesn’t have a boner yet but he’s getting there. The sight makes my heart start pounding.
Eric pulls my T-shirt off and throws it to the ground. He puts his hands on my chest.
“Come on, don’t be shy,” he whispers. “You can touch me.”
Okay… I put my hand onto his chest too and let it slide slowly down to his torso. Neither of us have a six pack or anything, but I think we look nice even without it; Eric is so silky-smooth and soft to the touch.
He takes my hand and starts lowering it towards his crotch. I don’t think I would have been able to do it without his help. I’m too damn shy still. Eric isn’t. He seems to have no reservations at all.
Oh, wow! This is like the first time that I’m touching an erect penis. I’m so excited that I start to shiver.
Then Eric pulls me in and presses my whole body against his. My pants have been pulled down by now, so we can feel each other skin to skin. Eric starts rubbing against me.
The sensation is wonderful; it would have been even more wonderful if I didn’t get a sudden itch on the back of my neck. I scratch the itch slowly, trying not to be obvious about it. Thankfully, Eric is too busy moaning to notice.
I’m trying to enjoy the moment, but the back of my neck starts to itch again. I scratch it. Another area starts to itch, this time a little lower. I scratch it, but after about a second of relief, I start feeling another sector of my skin itching.
It’s getting harder for me to concentrate on the pleasant sensations as most of my attention is drawn to the itching patches of my skin, which are suddenly all over my body.
Eric notices the commotion at last. He opens his eyes and looks at me.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m itchy.”
He tries to take a closer look at me but it’s too dark, so he pushes me towards the light.
“Shit! You have a rash!” he exclaims.
I look at myself and almost shudder. My skin is all red and it is covered in pimples.
“Jesus!” I shout out.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” Eric says and pushes me towards the door. I go out of the boathouse and into the daylight.
It looks even worse outside and it’s itching and burning like I just took a dip in pool full of fire ants. Eric follows me, putting his pants back on as he goes. I do the same. Now that we are outside I need to cover myself, even though my pants make it harder to scratch certain areas.
“What is this?” I wonder aloud.
“You’ve gotta be allergic to something inside the boathouse.”
“I didn’t know I had any allergies.”
“Well apparently you do,” Eric says. He puts his T-shirt on. I now realize that the moment is gone. There’s no way we could go back. I probably need to go to the infirmary now, but just as I think the thought, the itching recedes.
“Let’s get you to the nurse’s office,” Eric says, ready to go.
“No, wait,” I grab his arm. “I think it’s going away.”
“You sure?” he looks me over.
“I think so.”
He inspects my bare skin. “Yeah, it does seem a lot less red now,” he says, optimistic. I get optimistic too. Maybe it’s not over yet. Maybe we could still find some secluded place somewhere outside the boathouse and continue what we started.
No! What the hell am I saying? This is no longer innocent kissing. This is sex! It’s cheating! I can’t do that. I can’t let my desires ruin my relationship with Mitch.
On the other hand, Mitch doesn’t have to know about it. My work at Crest Hollows is gonna end in a few months. If all goes well I’ll move to Boston next year and probably never see Eric again.
Suddenly the alarm on Eric’s watch sounds. He looks at it.
“Damn! I’m supposed to meet Melissa,” he says and looks at me. “Do you want me to cancel? I think you should still see a nurse.”
“No, no… Go,” I tell him. “The rash is almost gone now.” It seems like all the forces of the universe are against me having sex with Eric anyway.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m okay now.,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault. You know I could easily just cancel…”
“No! Don’t! I know that she is probably not your type,” he grins. “But can you just try to have a good time with her, please? I don’t want her to get hurt.”
He nods.
“Go then,” I say with a playful little push.
He goes.
I sit down on the ground and look myself over. The rash seems to be disappearing now, fast. I think back to the cramp that formed last time I got all hot and heavy with Eric. Maybe my body’s trying to tell me something...
Damn! It just dawned on me that we never took the last boat out of the boathouse.
Cursing, I retrace my steps. I enter slowly at first. If there is an allergen in here, it should present itself pretty quickly I think, but I’m not itching this time, so I proceed toward the spot where we were standing just ten minutes ago.
I watch closely for any sort of bodily reaction, but I needn’t have bothered. There is no itching. It seems my body has stronger will-power than the rest of me. Nifty little trick I guess.
There’s only one problem left. That last boat is still inside here. And now I’m gonna have to carry it myself. Shit! Or maybe I could…
20
“Do you think we can go for a spin on this?” Jake asks, as the two of us are carrying the last boat towards the shore.
It’s not what you think, okay. I didn’t ask Jake to help me. I actually wanted to ask Kenan, but I couldn’t find him anywhere and then I bumped into Jake and he, ever chivalrous, offered his assistance.
“They never said we couldn’t.”
“Awesome,” Jake smiles. “Have you been to the other side of the lake?”
“There’s nothing out there, just wild forest.”
“Wrong!” he shouts, startling me. “There’s a great spot over there. I used to go when I was younger. Care to join me?”
Well, my evening is wide open. I didn’t have any plans anyway. So the idea of having a hike on the other side of the lake is appealing. But at the same time, Jake showing me the wild side of the forest might be a little bit over the line. And I just said it that I was determined to protect my relationship with Mitch at my best. And here I am playing with fire again.
On the other hand, that’s a perfect opportunity to test out my newly-found determination. I mean, Jake is not gonna be trying to kiss me or anything, unlike Eric. So it’s not gonna be that hard to keep things in order.
Jake is not much of a threat anyway. He seems to be willing to take things slow. Or maybe he has given up on the idea completely. He probably wouldn’t even want me to cheat on Mitch, knowing that it would get me in
to a lot of trouble.
So this hike is probably pretty safe.
“Sure.”
We set the boat gently into water and get in it. Jake finds a double paddle inside and takes it.
“Do you really know how to do this?” I ask, gripping the edge of the boat.
“Sure,” he says with his usual grin. “Sit back and relax. Enjoy the ride.”
Reluctantly, I sit back and watch Jake row. He sets the boat in motion and expertly directs it towards the opposite shore. I expect him to start asking questions or begin talking about something, the way he usually does, but he seems to be off in his own little world. Instead, I struggle to pick out a topic.
We’ve already talked about the Dance-Off, pretty much covered the whole damn thing, inside and out. I obviously can’t talk about Mitch, or Eric. There’s not all the much else to say really. So I remain silent as we steadily cut across the beautifully serene lake.
21
“Come on, give me your hand,” Jake says. He has already jumped onto the ground and is now trying, emphasis on the word trying, to get me to do the same.
He notices my hesitation and moves in closer, “Come on, I won’t bite.” He grins.
I take his hand. For a moment I think it’s static electricity that hits me when our hands touch, but Jake’s hand doesn’t even twitch.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I answer and hurry to pull my hand away. He ties the boat to the nearest tree and sets off into the woods.
“Come on,” he calls. “It’s about fifteen minutes uphill from here.”
I trudge after him.
“I used to come here whenever I wanted to be alone.” Jake says after another five minutes of silence. “You know, those times when my parents were fighting, usually over money, sometimes over me. I never could stand hearing them yell at each other. I would start running, didn’t matter where.”
“So that’s how you found this place?” I ask, even though it’s a pretty pointless question. I’m just glad that we’re talking again.
Sam Dorsey and His Dirty Dancing Page 7