by Amanda Heger
Day Twenty-Eight
In the early morning, the DJ cut off the music, and Annie strolled up the pathway to their room. Her arms and legs were Jell-O, and her ears rang from the blast of the speakers. Sweat beaded her hairline and chest, and she was so damn thirsty. But she beamed. With one arm looped through Marisol’s and the other intertwined with Felipe’s, her heart overflowed.
They stopped in the breezeway. “What time do you leave?” Marisol asked.
“Six,” Annie said. Her stomach sank. Five hours.
“I will be up.”
“No, you won’t.”
“¿Qué? I will.” She pulled her key from her bra. “But if I am not, wake me up.”
Annie wrapped her arms around Marisol’s neck. “No way.” She squeezed her tiny friend, and tears edged their way into her laugh.
“Mi Anita. No crying. I am going to email you all the time. And I will come for a visit so you can introduce me to a whole fraternity of American boys, yes?” Marsiol pulled away and grinned.
“An entire fraternity? They’ll never know what hit them.”
“Good.” Marisol hugged her again. “If I do not let you go now, my brother will never forgive me,” she stage-whispered. They both turned to Felipe, who rolled his eyes and took Annie’s hand. With a kiss on each of her cheeks, Marisol was gone, the door clicking shut behind her.
Felipe guided Annie across the hallway, and before he could unlock the door, she fell into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I don’t want to go.”
He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Of course you do. Cable television. All the hot water you can ever use.”
“Sometimes it does run out you know.”
“Well, you are not leaving yet. I still have you for a little bit longer.” He pried her body from his and tugged at the ends of her hair, but his smile didn’t stretch all the way to his eyes.
Seeing him fight his own feelings to keep her sadness at bay made Annie want him more. Until that moment, she’d hadn’t been sure that was possible. As they’d pressed together on the dance floor, her body screamed at her. All yes, yes, yes and more, more, more. But now, standing in front of their hotel room, she expected to be overcome with doubt. She expected her mind to race through all the reasons she shouldn’t sleep with him. To pull all her fears front and center.
But as she looked into his half smile, Annie realized she had none. And she was certain that if she didn’t rip Felipe’s clothes off and pull him on top of her, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.
She raised up, putting them eye-to-eye, nose-to-nose, lip-to-lip. “However will we fill the time?”
His hands were on the knob and then on her. Felipe picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he kicked the door closed. Pinned against the heavy door, Annie shivered as his hands slid up her dress. He grabbed her thighs as his tongue found hers. Somehow they wrangled the fabric over her head, and her flip-flops hit the ground.
Felipe carried her to the bed, stumbling as his lips stayed pressed to hers. He laid her down and took a step back. His Adam’s apple slid in his throat, and Annie squirmed under his stare.
“What?” she asked.
“Nada.” He crawled onto the mattress.
Their lips met, charging into one another. Annie could still taste the wine on his bottom lip as her fingers undid the smooth buttons on his shirt. When his bare chest finally touched hers, he moaned into her mouth, and a rolling fire worked its way to her core. She ran her hands down his stomach, and his muscles tensed beneath her touch. Smiling, Annie dipped her fingers below the waistband of his pants, enjoying the low rumble of his groans. She slid her palms over his shoulders and into his hair. He was hard against her, and she arched her back, desperate for friction.
He circled his hands around her waist and lifted, pulling her to the edge of the bed. Annie’s legs dangled off the mattress. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice broken by laughter and lust.
Felipe bent low to her ear, and Spanish rolled off his tongue, so deep and visceral Annie didn’t need a translator to understand. She shuddered as he hovered over her, planting kisses from her neck to the valley between her breasts. Every touch left a trail of fire along her skin. He kept going until his lips were an inch below her navel. She gasped and tilted her hips, savoring the feel of his hands on her thighs as he worked her underwear to the floor.
Naked from the waist down, desire made her arms and legs heavy. Felipe’s hand was at her knee, pushing outward as his lips grazed her inner thigh. He worked his mouth to her folds, and his tongue flicked and kneaded and explored. When she tilted her hips, his mouth moved faster, and his fingers worked their way inside her. Her mind went blank, but every other part of her burned.
She leaned her head back and let a moan escape. Felipe’s warm breath between her thighs was at once unbearable and vital for her very existence. She struggled to sit up and unfastened her last piece of clothing. The bra fell to the ground, and his eyes traveled up her naked body.
Annie unbuckled his belt, savoring the way he looked at her. The way his eyes lit with desire. The way his eyes slid closed when her fingers brushed his skin.
With another tug, she had his pants around his ankles. Felipe fell onto the bed, pulling her on top of him. She threw a leg over his hips, straddling him.
“Annie,” he panted. “We should… I mean, if…” He groaned as she rubbed herself against the length of him.
“Do you want to stop?” she whispered.
“No.”
“Me either.”
The look on his face made her body ache and tense further. Felipe rolled out from under her and dug through the crumpled pile of clothes on the floor. “Aquí.”
She took the condom and pushed him onto the pillows, sliding the latex over him.
“You are beautiful,” he murmured.
She buried her face into his neck and straddled his hips. “I’ve been thinking about doing this for the last…” Her voice trailed off as a nervous giggle bubbled up inside her. “Since I attacked you at the airport.”
“Annie?” He looked up at her from under heavy eyelids. “I have been thinking about doing this since I was seventeen.” He cupped the underside of her breasts and rolled a finger over her hardened nipples. “So thank you for attacking me at the airport.” He pulled her closer, his teeth grazing her earlobe.
A groan slipped from her lips, and she guided him into her, forcing herself to inch slowly around him. If this was going to be their first and last time, she was going to savor every single second, even if her body demanded everything move faster and deeper and harder.
But Felipe’s hands worked her hips back and forth, building the friction between them to an unbearable pleasure, and all her plans tumbled out the window. Soon her gasps were fast and loud, and she was useless to stop them.
Felipe shifted his weight, rolling on top of her. Annie wrapped her legs high on his waist, forcing them closer. And soon his shudders rocked through her.
“Annie?” His lips grazed her neck. “You are amazing.”
She peeled back her heavy eyelids, confounded and mesmerized by the ways this trip was leaving its marks on her. And all at once, she knew she wouldn’t have it any other way. Battle scars and all.
• • •
Felipe’s throat was thick with the things he wanted to tell her. She was beautiful. She was amazing and smart and funny. Her crazy laugh made him dizzy. She was certainly some kind of sex goddess, and he would follow her to the ends of the earth to make love to her like that every day. He wanted to beg her to stay for one more day. Or two. A week. Another month.
But the silence was too loud.
Annie pulled on a pair of shorts and slid her arms into his crumbled shirt. The blue cotton hung like a coat from her frame. The sight of her in his clothes left his heart exposed and raw.
“Do you want help with this?” he asked, pointing to the mounds of her belongings at their feet.
Clothes spilled from her suitcase, and papers littered the floor.
Annie shook her head and climbed onto the bed. He slipped on a pair of pajama pants and followed, turning off the bedside lamp. Their arms and legs weaved together in the dark, but he felt like he couldn’t get close enough to her.
“When is your next brigade?” she asked.
“September.” His eyes closed.
“What will you do until then?”
“I have one more week off. Then I will go back to the clinic.”
“What will you do during your week off?”
“Miss you.”
Silence rose up in the space between them, filling in the cracks and pushing outward, until he felt they were already thousands of miles apart. She nuzzled into his chest, and her breathing slowed. But he stared at the ceiling and inhaled her coconut scent until, too soon, the shrill of their alarm clock sounded.
She pulled a pillow over her head. “Turn it off.”
Felipe ducked under the pillow and snuggled into her neck. “You have to get up, or you will miss your flight.”
She grumbled, and he rolled out of bed. Annie’s clothes and soaps and shoes lay scattered on the floor around her suitcase, and one by one he picked them up and tucked them into her bag. “How do you have more things now than when you first arrived?” he asked. “This does not all fit in your suitcase.”
She nudged him out of the way and shoved everything inside her suitcase, nothing folded or rolled. She tugged the zipper but it wouldn’t budge, and stray shirt sleeves poked out from under the lid. With a sigh, she pulled the top layer of things out and tossed them on the floor. The zipper closed, and she threw her hands up in the air. “Ta da!”
“And these things?” A bottle of shampoo rolled along the carpet and a handful of t-shirts lay at his feet.
“Those shirts are so gross, I’ll never be able to wear them again. And I have more shampoo at home.”
He wrapped his arms around her hips, and his fingers dug into the soft curves. Every second seemed to rush by as he stood there, staring at her, trying to figure out how to stop time, or at least to find the words to tell her how he felt.
Their phone rang, and his chest tightened. “Your cab must be here.”
“Yeah.” She tilted her chin up, and he pressed his mouth to hers, pulling her against him.
The phone kept ringing.
“I miss you already.”
And with the click of the door, she was gone.
Day Three Hundred and Four
Annie’s insides twisted and tangled with every exhale. She tugged at the hem of her dress for the tenth time and tried not to stare at the door.
“You could have gone to the airport, kiddo.”
“Too much to do here.” She pushed her father’s wheelchair to the other end of the room, weaving around the banquet tables. The starched, white tablecloths fluttered as they went by. Catering staff hovered at the edges of the room, putting out place settings and straightening fruit trays. “Speech, decorations, making sure you don’t embarrass me.”
“Embarrass you? That’s what fathers are for.”
“I should wheel you into the coat closet and leave you there.” She shook her head and picked up her index cards. By now the bullet points of her speech were seared into her memory, but it kept her mind occupied. If she let it wander to everything that was scheduled to happen in the next few hours, she’d end up in the fetal position with a bottle of tequila in her hands.
“What time was their flight supposed to land?”
Annie glanced at her phone. “An hour ago.”
“An hour must be how long it takes to get here.”
Her eyes darted to the open door. Melinda was first, dressed in a sleek, gray suit that was miles from the loose, aging hippy clothes Annie remembered. Marisol came next, ridiculously gorgeous in a black lace dress. She squealed and shuffled across the plush carpet of the banquet center.
“¡Anita!”
Annie wrapped her arms around her friend and squeezed. “I’m so glad you could come.”
“How could we not come?” Melinda asked. “This is an amazing fundraiser. I don’t know how you pulled it off, but Ahora is never going to be able to repay you.”
“Funny thing,” her father said, “when you’re sick, people will do pretty much anything you want.”
Annie started to explain how they had really done it, but Felipe walked through the door, dragging a wheeled suitcase behind him. His suit hugged his body in all the right places, and his green tie set off his skin and eyes. The words clung to the inside of her mouth, refusing to come out.
“We made him carry everything.” Marisol cackled.
“Hi.” Annie wasn’t sure what to do with her hands or her feet. Every part of her felt loose and weak and heavy. All the Skyping in the world couldn’t have prepared her for the emotions fluttering around inside her. It was nothing like having him in person, in front of her, close enough to touch. To kiss.
“Hola.” He smiled, and everything shifted into place. “Mr. London.” He offered her father a handshake.
“I understand you have some not-so-chaste feelings for my daughter.”
“Oh my God. Dad, no.” Annie knew her cheeks had to be the same color as her hair. She’d spilled far more than she intended her first night back in the States, and her father hadn’t let her live it down.
“Let’s give them some privacy.” Melinda dragged Marisol away, pushing the wheelchair as they went.
They hadn’t defined their strange, long-distance relationship in the nine months since she’d left Nicaragua. The first time he left on a brigade, her roommates dragged Annie out on a few double dates. But none of it mattered, because when she came home, all she could think about was Felipe.
“You’re really here.”
“I am really here.” His hands circled her waist, and the kiss was all new again and somehow like slipping into her favorite t-shirt. Annie’s heart stuttered and fumbled over the soft eagerness of his mouth, and she began to rethink who she wanted to escort to the coat closet.
“Did you make your final decision?” he asked, pulling away half an inch. His features went blank, and it took her a second to figure out what he meant.
“For school?”
He nodded.
“I told you already. Brown. Once they said yes, there was no competition.”
“But did you pay your down payment?”
“Deposit? Two weeks ago.” She smiled, and something fluttered inside her chest. “Thank you again for the letter of recommendation, by the way.”
“I have something for you.” He hefted the suitcase onto one of the chairs and reached into the front pocket. A thin strip of fire-engine red fabric fell out, the sequins glinting under the florescent lights.
She picked it up and turned the fabric between her fingers. “What is this, the world’s skimpiest man-thong? Did you decide to give up medicine to become a stripper?”
Felipe rolled his eyes. “Juan.” He plucked the G-string from her hands and replaced it with a tattered, purple notebook. A giant muddy thumbprint streaked the back.
“My journal!” In her mad packing crunch, Annie had left it on the floor of the resort with all her torn t-shirts.
During application season, Felipe had typed up the entries she needed and sent them to her. It took her an email or two to get over the mortification of him flipping through her most private thoughts, but he deadened the pain by adding ridiculous stories to each one. Sometimes it was Annie being attacked by a swarm of monkeys. Once, he wrote an entire page about her falling so in love with gallo pinto that she swore to eat nothing but rice and beans for the rest of her life. He added bits in Spanish she had to translate and ended each email the same way. I miss you.
She thought the day of the banquet would never come.
“Open it.” His face was still blank.
Annie chewed her bottom lip. This wasn’t quite the reunion she had dreamed of every night
since they’d set the date of the fundraiser. “Is everything okay? You don’t seem—”
“Open it.” He ran a hand through his hair.
She pulled back the cover. On the front page was a collapsed fortune teller. Typed words ran across the page in every direction. “Hey, you finally figured it out. Did you make it on the plane?”
Felipe shifted his weight and jammed his hands into his pockets. “Unfold it.”
“What? That’s not how it works.”
“Annie.”
“Okay, okay.” She set the journal on the table and unfolded the paper with shaky hands, careful to keep it from tearing. Her eyes skimmed over the page, the words swirling.
“I am tired of missing you all the time,” Felipe said. “But I will not come if you do not want—”
She held up a hand to stop him, still dizzy with disbelief, and read the words a second time. It was all there in heavy black type, unchanged.
Dear Dr. Felipe Gutierrez: Welcome to the Brown University School of Public Health.
Annie let the paper flutter to the ground and pressed her forehead to his. The words tangled in her throat, but she forced them out. “I definitely want.” Somehow, some way, they’d stolen a little more time together, and there was nothing she wanted more.
Author’s Note & Acknowledgements
Years ago, I spent a summer in Sahsa, Nicaragua, a real place, filled with real people, in the North Atlantic Autonomous Region of Nicaragua. I volunteered with a public health organization, traveled with a medical brigade, saw beautiful rainforests, and learned the words to dozens of Sandinista songs. To the people I met that summer, especially Don José and Edith, I will be forever indebted—in more ways than one. And, as much as Sahsa is a real place filled with real people, many of the communities in Without Borders are fictional. Created for story purposes but inspired by the places I visited and the people who welcomed this sunburned gringa into their homes time and time again, feeding me armadillo (armadillo is seriously tasty, folks) and giving me a place to sleep at night. I hope I did justice to these communities (both the fictional and the real), but I am human. And flawed. And sometimes (a lot of times) I screw things up. If I did that here, I am truly sorry.
