you have bothered people all week about the upcoming three-day weekend. any plans? do people want to do something? you bother them gently because honestly you don’t particularly care what they are doing; you are always happy to do things alone.
it is saturday night and you are exhausted. the prior evening, you and lance stayed up until 4:30 in the morning, a muddled night of alcohol and cuddling on the couch that led to kisses and curious fingers. you remember this distinctly: being drunk and everyone smoking weed on the porch and you are off in the corner feeling distantly bored, so you wander away, down the stairs, running into a bike on your way out, and he calls out to you off the balcony, “channing, where are you going?” this way. “where?” over here. he notices when you are missing. he says something. god, why does that send you spiraling? but it does. it does.
anyway, you are exhausted since you got up at 8:30. you skipped snorkeling, skipped thai food, and you are sitting on the brown leather chair reading when he comes in. you both want to do something with the next two days. so you plan.
flash forward: driving up to big sur. he drives. all your overnight stuff is packed and you are thrumming with excitement. your roommate sorta wanted to come, but you didn’t fully extend the invitation. so it is just the two of you winding your way up the central coast. you stop at parks along the way, snacking on dried mango and babka and bagels. it’s strange that california--this wild, gaping land--already feels familiar, that you recognize places, that you can notice something and have it spark a memory. he swims underneath a waterfall and you can’t stop staring.
andrew molera park is where the magic happens. the beach is strewn with driftwood and lance naps beside you as you sit and watch the ducks. that’s it: watching ducks. but how perfect, how magical, sitting on a beach, noticing and watching and observing, with a person who makes your heart swell beside you and you, fleeting and graceful, at the mercy of all this wonder.
he wakes up and you walk along the beach. the tide is coming in and he runs sporadically, nervous about getting his feet wet. you eat honey twisted fritos and wash your dusty hands in the ocean.
what’s that, he says pointing beyond the fence as you’re leaving. it looks like a house cat, but it’s not. A bobcat. small and watchful. you squeal and grab his hand, gaping in wonder. so much magic. you are overjoyed.
back in the car, he asks, i think we should go back to camp. it’s about the same distant as the campsite. is that ok or will it make you too sad? it doesn’t make you sad, but it disappoints you. it is fascinating how quickly the bobcat joy dissipates. you feel rejected. he doesn’t want to spend time with you. he isn’t daydreaming about overnights cuddled together for warmth. you are quiet and disappointed. tears prick. it feels so personal.
do you want to camp? maybe we should. he says. you say you are always down for camping. he says he was just cold and whiny and he’s warmer now and wants to go. so you go. and just like that the water is washed away. the car climbs 3,000 feet and you park on top of a hill overlooking the ocean and he gets the back of his escape ready and he makes you bagel sandwiches--avocado and cream cheese--and your sleeping bags look perfect all nestled together and then it is time for bed and you crawl in and he takes off your hat and plays with your hair and your bodies are pressed up together through sleeping bags and your mouths press together every now and then and it is sweetsweetsweet and young and fun and it takes him forever to touch your breast and you are aching and you want and you know your panties are soaked but this feels like high school all over again and you love it for its simple sweetness so you don’t push, don’t rush.
you feel a little disappointed in the morning when he is out of the car at 8:00 and he folds up the back. but you two wander around and admire the view and you play tpac and jay-z on the way back and your heart is tender because it would be so easy to fall in love with him.
