The Education of Sebastian & the Education of Caroline (92 page)

I don’t want to come off like a dick, but at school I could have any girl I wanted. Not that there
was any way I was going to be a player like my old man. The point is, I’d never been a mute fucking moron who could hardly string two words together before. But now…

She offered to drive me home and I couldn’t help thinking it was just so she could get rid of me, which really fucking hurt. Then I realized we were nearly outside my house, so I made her stop the car.

“Can you drop me here?”

“But we’re not at your place yet?” she said, sounding confused.

“There’ll be fewer questions this way.”
Ain’t that the truth.

She pulled over and waited for me to get out. I had to find some way to see her again—to let her know that I wanted to spend time with her. So what did Mr. Fucking Genius come up with?

“Will I see you again?”
Yeah, right.

She looked puzzled.

“I expect so. Everyone bumps into everyone on the Base. Now, promise me you’ll study this afternoon.”

Oh God! So not what I meant!
But I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Okay, Caroline. See you later.”

“Bye, Sebastian.”

I climbed out of the car and watched her drive away.

I walked home slowly. Mom was still in bed. No fucking change there.

The next day, I was still no nearer to deciding how to get to see Caroline, without coming off like a crazy stalker guy.

Irritated at the direction my thoughts had taken, I stared down at my text book. Just a few more months and I could get out of this shithole and never come back. Except that … Caroline was here now.

The main house phone rang, interrupting my thoughts.

Sighing, I picked up the receiver.

“Hunter residence. May I help you?”

Nobody responded. Probably a telemarketer. God, I hated that. What a fucking tedious job.

“Hello?”

And then I heard her soft voice.

“Hi, Sebastian … it’s Caroline.”

I couldn’t help taking a sudden, sharp breath.

“Caroline, hi! How are you?”

“Good, thanks. I was expecting to reach your mother…”

No! Talk to me!
“I had a free period — and I’m graduating on Thursday anyway.”
Idiot! Don’t remind her you’re still in school!

“Oh, well, as luck would have it … I wondered if you could help me—with an article I’m writing?”

“Sure, anything!”
Oh, God, I’ll do anything for you.

Her voice sounded firmer now.

“Well, when we were talking at the barbecue the other day, you mentioned that your friend’s dad surfed—I think you said his name was Ches? Well, I wondered if you could give me his number; I’d like to speak to him.”

What? Fuck, no! She liked Ches?

“You want to speak to Ches?” The words nearly choked me.

“Well,” she said, hurriedly, “I really wanted to talk to Ches’s dad. I’m writing an article about personnel from the Base who go surfing. I thought it would make a great piece for City Beat.”

“Oh, right.” I was ridiculously relieved. I hoped that she couldn’t tell. “Sure, I can get you that. We were going to hang out at the beach this afternoon. There’s a swell coming in off the Pacific that looks awesome. Mitch was going to ride with us. You want to come, too?”

Please say yes. Please say yes!

“Mitch?”

“That’s Ches’s dad. He’s a Staff Sergeant.”

“Well, that would be great.”

I could have got down on my knees and thanked God.

“What time were you going to go?”

“About 3:45. We could pick you up?”

“Um … are you going to Point Loma again?”

I wondered why she wanted to go there.

“Maybe … we were going to sort of drive around till we found the best break.” That’s what we usually did.
Please come with me!

She hesitated long enough for my heart to stop.

“In that case, yes, I’d love a ride,” she said. “Are you sure it’ll be okay with Mitch and your friends?”

“Sure!”

Damn. No points for being cool.

She gave this cute little laugh. Hell, if I’d heard the desperation I knew was leaking through my voice, I’d have laughed, too.

“Well, okay,” she agreed at last, “but I’d feel happier if I could talk to Mitch first.”

“No, it’ll be fine. Really.”

I don’t want to give you Ches’s number! Talk to me. ME.

“I really think I should,” she said, gently.

Fuck.
I couldn’t say no to her. Reluctantly, I gave in, reeling off Ches’s number.

“So I’ll see you after school—um 3:45. I’ll pick you up. Um, Mitch’ll pick you up. Um, 3:45
pm
. Okay?”

Stop babbling, moron!

Eventually, she hung up. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, a direct result of my mutant rambling. I must have sounded like a complete idiot. I really had to get my fucking act together before I saw her later, or I was going to have another really bad case of word vomit.

I stood up, then realized my dick was rock hard. Huh, interesting. I headed for the shower and whacked off. Twice.

I mean, I knew it was dumb, having a shower before I went surfing, but I just wanted to look good for her, like I’d made an effort. Hell, I even took a couple of minutes to shave. I didn’t usually shave more than once or twice a week, but this was a special occasion.

It was a freakin’ long five hours of school, before Mitch swung by in the van to pick me up.

“Hey, Seb. You ready man?”

I nodded and tried to smile normally, as he stared at me.

“You okay?” he said, frowning slightly.

Ches’s dad was cool. I wished I had a dad like him, not the sack of shit I was saddled with. But sometimes, I didn’t want Mitch to see everything; the man was too damned observant.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied.

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it either.

I climbed into the back of the van, crashing down next to Fido, and Ches nudged my shoulder.

“’Sup, man? You look kinda sick, like you’re jonesin’ for a hit or something. You’re acting like a fucking lunatic.”

I blew out a long breath of air, and tried to calm the fuck down.

Ches threw me another look and Fido just looked stoned. I mean, he wasn’t—Mitch wouldn’t put up with that shit—it was just the way Fido looked.

A few minutes later we stopped and I held my breath, thinking we’d arrived at Caroline’s place. But it was Mitch’s buddy, Bill, who climbed into the front of the van. He was such an asshole; I could never figure out why he and Mitch were friends. He was always ragging on me, just because my dad was an officer. It was pretty fucking irritating.

Then Mitch spoke, and I couldn’t help thinking it was as much for Bill’s benefit as anyone else’s.

“Listen, guys, Mrs. Wilson is going to be joining us this afternoon, so I want the language kept clean. She’s a lady and an officer’s wife, so cut the crap. You hearin’ me back there?”

“Yes, sir!” called out Ches, laughing.

Fido mumbled something, and then Bill, the asshole, said, “I hear she’s hot. Too good for that fucker, Wilson.”

I felt my hands clench into fists.

“Cool it, Bill,” said Mitch calmly, but his voice also said he wouldn’t take any shit either.

When we got to Caroline’s, I couldn’t help acting like a fucking preschooler, leaping out of the van and helping her carry her stuff.

“Hi, Caroline!”

“Hello, Sebastian. Could you help me with this: I brought some sandwiches for you and your friends.”

“Wow, thanks!”

She’d made a load of sandwiches.
God I loved that woman!

The thought stopped me in my tracks.
Wait, what?
Sweaty palms—check. Accelerated heart rate—check. Insane fucking jealousy when any other man looked at her—check. Aching fucking rock hard boner—check. Was that love? I pushed the thought away.

I realized she was waiting for me to introduce her.

“Um, this is Mitch, um, Staff Sergeant Peters.”

“Mrs. Wilson, pleased to meet you.”

I winced when he used her married name.

“Oh, call me Caroline, please,” she said with a smile. “You’re doing me the favor. I really appreciate you letting me tag along on your surf safari.”

“No problem, Caroline. It’ll make these beach bums mind their manners. Right, boys! This is my son, Chester; and those two yahoos in the back are his friends Seb and Fido; and this here is Bill Fenenko.”

“Hey, Caroline,” said Bill.

As he helped her climb into the van, I saw that he was checking her out, his eyes glued to her ass. I wanted to reach over the seats and punch his windpipe through his spine.

Instead, I threw myself into the back of the van, and clutched my knees to my chest, trying to control my breathing.

“What’s your damage, man?” whispered Ches.

I shook my head, too angry to speak.

I could hear that Caroline was speaking and I strained my ears, trying to hear her over the noise of the van’s engine. She was asking about the rash vests piled up on the front seat.

“They’re to stop the wetsuits rubbing around the neck and under the arms when you’re paddling out,” explained Mitch. “We won’t need them today: the water at this time of year is around 63 degrees.”

She shivered and laughed to herself, then turned around, snapping a quick photo of us sitting in the back of the van. I couldn’t help smiling at her; I didn’t notice until too late that Ches and Fido were making faces and flipping the bird.
Fucking losers!

Then she passed the food around and damn, it was good. It wasn’t store-bought either: she’d made those sandwiches with her own hands. I couldn’t help imagining what else she could do with her hands.

Which wasn’t such a great idea: trying to eat a sandwich, with a hard-on pressing against my jeans. Again. This woman was going to be the death of me. What a way to go.

Mitch drove across Coronado Bridge, and then stopped a couple of times so we could check out the surf running along Silver Strand.

“See, Caroline, we’re looking for a steady swell and offshore breeze to hold up the waves; the best conditions for producing long, workable rides. If the wind is onshore, it’s just froth and white water—no good for surfing.”

In the end, Mitch pulled up at the side of the road near Cays Park, and we piled out of the back.

Mitch’s commentary had given me an idea: it was clear that Caroline didn’t know anything about surfing, and she wanted to write an article about it. I could help with that: in fact I planned to. As soon as everyone was in the water, I was going to catch a ride in, and talk to her by myself.

The thought made my heart thud in my chest, and I was amazed to see that my hands were shaking slightly.
What the fuck was that?

“Just forget I’m here,” said Caroline.

Like that was even possible.

“I’ll just watch and soak up the vibe.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Bill, and the ass wipe started undressing in front of her.

Fuck that!

I tore off my own t-shirt and hoped that Caroline was looking my way.
Shit!
I wished I had more chest hair. Okay, I didn’t want to look like a fucking Neanderthal like Bill, but, you know, just a
bit
more would have been cool.

Mitch handed me his thruster.

“I think I’ll take my longboard out today, Seb. You have this one.”

“Thanks, Mitch,” I muttered.

My psycho dad had trashed my Quiksilver board, saying I’d been spending too much time at the beach. What the fuck did he know? I did my studying; I was keeping up my grades. What more did the bastard want?

But Mitch understood.

Caroline took some more photographs, and I thought I was going to break my fucking jaw trying to smile, while Bill showed off, fucking smirking at her the whole time.

We headed out into the surf, and I felt the shock as the first wave of cold water hit my chest. I dove through it, and paddled for the lineup.

I caught a couple of waves just so no one would get weird on me, and then headed back to the beach. Back to Caroline.

She was sitting cross-legged, writing in her notebook and sometimes taking photographs. Her arms and legs were bare in her fucking adorable sundress.

When she looked up at me and smiled, I thought I was going to pass out. Aaand, cue hard-on.

“You finished already?”

“I thought it might help if I explained some more—for your article,” I mumbled, gripping the board in front of me for dear life and all that would save me from total fucking humiliation.