Journey

by Karina Sharp

  She has a wild streak in her, but her spirit - living life to the fullest and completely - is one of the things I find alluring. Her passion and energy are fantastic. When she does something, she puts her all into it, even partying. On the other hand, I live a disciplined life that requires a great deal of my time and attention spent on my work. Maybe we aren’t so compatible...

  If I take true stock of the situation, for every reason my mind says to give up on her and move on, there are about ten others that justify why I should hold onto her and never let her go. I’m getting so bent out of shape over something that should be natural and come with ease. Right? I wonder if love has ever come with ease to anyone. Well, love might, but do relationships and making them work with the ones you love come easily to most?

  I didn’t sleep much last night. I mostly laid awake, staring at the ocean in the dark and listening to Journey’s breaths from her deepened sleep.

  Journey stirs in the bed beside me, still clothed in her sun dress from last night, and groans. “How much tequila did I drink last night?”

  “I don’t know, but it really did a number on you.”

  “I know… I feel like hell right now.”

  “I can imagine. I brought you some ibuprofen and some Gatorade.”

  Journey sits up and reaches for the bottle with her eyes still shut. “Ohhh...you are my hero. I hope you didn’t have anything too crazy planned for today. I don’t think I can handle it.”

  I chuckle, “I thought we might go ride roller coasters in the blazing heat and eat lots of fried foods.”

  “You’re going to make me vomit. Ugh…” Journey says, laying her head back onto the pillow and placing her arm over her eyes.

  “Not a good idea? I guess we can go with the alternative and just lounge around here all day. Maybe have some food delivered and visit the rooftop terrace?”

  “Perfection. All of it. What’s everyone else doing today?”

  “I think Lexie is hanging with Tony, Anna and Emily are just being Anna and Emily, Hal and Marshall are back on the links, and I don’t know what George is doing.”

  “Oh god... Jack, I don’t exactly remember everything, but I remember enough to know that I sometimes say some crazy things when I’m messed up.”

  “I’m not mad about that. I appreciate the apology, but let’s just move on, okay?”

  “Okay. Either way, I will make it up to you.”

  “Well, if you’re going to twist my arm, I guess I will let you.”

  Journey begins to get out of bed and stretch. “I didn’t even change out of my clothes? I must have been all kinds of shit-faced.”

  “You were in rare form, that’s for sure.”

  “I’m not now, so that means, I’m going to go into the bathroom, take care of some personal business, and make my mouth minty fresh. Then, you’re going to join me in the shower and fuck me silly.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me.”

  After we shower, we move up to the roof and have food delivered there. Journey pauses in the consumption of her food, looking pensive.

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  “No, but you just gave me a good idea for later.” She continues looking toward the water that seems to be infinite and stretches as far as the eye can see. “Can I confess something?”

  “Always.”

  “I’ve been trying really hard all week to get you really drunk so that you will open up to me and share things with me.”

  “Is that why you’ve been pushing the drinks so hard?”

  “A little.”

  “Has it worked?”

  “A little. You do seem to be more relaxed after drinks, and you’re more apt to share details when you’re tipsy.”

  “That’s somewhat surprising.”

  “Do you even know my last name?”

  “Yes, it’s Ferrer.”

  “Will you at least tell me yours?”

  “I didn’t realize that you didn’t know it. I suppose I owe it to you. It’s Croft. My name is Jack Croft.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jack Croft. I’m Journey Ferrer, soon to be Doctor Journey Ferrer, MD.”

  “You don’t find it odd that we are virtual strangers who meet up every year, and essentially trust the other to not be a weirdo in disguise?” I ask.

  “Weird? No. We’re actually very typical.” Journey looks at me sincerely. “What if I said I actually am a weirdo in disguise?”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Join the club, amiga.”

  We spend the afternoon simply chatting and enjoying one another’s company, as always. Since we have a private terrace, Journey decides to sunbathe. As she lies on her back in a cushioned chaise, I take advantage of the time to trace every curve and every centimeter of her flawless physique. Head to toe, there is nothing about her that isn’t sheer perfection. Although her skin is a little more sun-kissed than when she first arrived, she has a light dusting of freckles on her stomach, shoulders and cheeks. My desire to kiss each one individually is insatiable. She is a work of art, and one I can admire for the rest of eternity if I were so fortunate.

  “It’s a shame this has to end, isn’t it?” She asks wistfully, looking to the vast, Mexico sky.

  “It is.” It’s an unusually short response for me, but other thoughts are occupying my conscious at the moment.

  “That’s it? ‘It is?’ Aside from personal questions, you never seem to be without something to say or some eloquent, wordy answer.”

  I allow a moment of silence pass before speaking. “Last night, you said something that’s stayed with me.”

  “I can only imagine what I said. I hope it wasn’t anything too bad, but if it’s stayed with you this long, I’m guessing it probably is. Does this mean you’re wanting to get the heck out of dodge early?”

  “No, nothing like that. It’s- You told me about posing nude for a magazine spread or something of that nature.”

  Journey does not sit up, but turns her head to look at me from behind her mirrored aviator sunglasses that I’m pretty sure she stole off of my night stand earlier today. She rubs her lips together as she gathers her response, then clears her throat.

  “Well, it’s not something that’s a bad thing, per se. I happened to be at the headquarters for an epic party and was very drunk when it was offered and I agreed to the chance to be a centerfold and even went to the photo-shoot. But, the spread didn’t appear in the magazine because I decided it would probably not be the best thing to boost my chance to get into med school.”

  “That was probably wise.” I rub my chin in thought. “You’re an adult with free will, but for what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  Journey’s posture slumps as if she is being scolded, so I try to explain my stance more.

  “I think it’s great that you’re not shy- it’s something that makes you a lot of fun and your self-confidence is enviable, but I can’t imagine any good would come of that. You never know when your past can suddenly reappear.”

  “I’m not so worried about that. I can handle judgment and ridicule. I don’t care one iota about others’ opinions of me. If they don’t like what I do and my version of self-expression, then they can go suck a tree trunk, for all I care.”

  “It should matter to a deg- Did you just say, ‘suck a tree trunk?’ Is that even a real expression?”

  “Yes it is. I just made it one.” Journey sits up and supports her weight with her hands behind her. “And if you don’t like it, Mister, you can go suck a tree trunk.” She huffs and lays back down. “Okay, opinions do matter. There, you happy? My entire life others’ opinions have been paramount and pretty much ruled over me. I wouldn’t wear a certain brand of nail polish or befriend certain people out of fear of others’ judgment. When I started college, I decided that I wanted to call the shots and start making my own decisions.”

  “I apologize in advance if this sounds like scolding, Journey, because it’s not my i
ntent, but it seems as though you may have missed the mark and gone a bit extreme the other direction. Not completely... I mean, partying on spring break or even every weekend in college is very normal, but viewing the ability for millions of men to see all of you on glossy magazine pages, lusting after you, isn’t exactly a healthy form of self-expression. At least, I don’t think so.

  “The jury is still out on how I feel about that, which is why the pictures have never been published. And, I do value your opinion.” Journey sighs and almost mumbles, “It means a lot, actually.”

  “Then, promise me something.”

  “I don’t like making blind promises.”

  “I didn’t ask you to do that. Just hear me out. Promise me that you won’t publish those pictures or do anything that can potentially publicly shame you in the future until you’re sure of exactly how you feel about that form of self-expression. Should you decide it suits you and it’s what you need, that’s great, but until then, don’t do anything that gives you apprehension.”

  “This feels a little judgmental and not fair. I’ve been trying so hard to get you to be more talkative and have only been mildly successful. Now, the topic of me being nude in public comes up and suddenly you have a lot to say about it?”

  “I tried to keep my answer simple. You’re the one who pressed for more.”

  “I don’t know that I’m finished being irritated with you and your opinions,” Journey’s mouth curls upward into a smirk, “but I told you I knew something was up with your short answer.”

  “See? You seem to have a handle on me. What more is there to know?” I kneel next to her chaise, cupping her breast in my hand. “I’m not saying these don’t deserve to be on display and worshipped, because they absolutely do, but if I had my way, no one would ever see them but me.”

  A light course of air leaves my lungs, causing her nipple to pearl from its contact. Journey’s back arches lightly as a small cry of pleasure escapes from her lips. I repeat the same action on her other breast, so that both are budding from excitement. Journey’s knees separate and she draws her feet closer into her body, inviting me to come closer into her space and against her body. I lift myself off of the ground and position my body between her legs, my chest against breasts, hips in line with hers, and bring my mouth to hers so I can ravish it. Journey reaches to grip the waist of my board shorts, and lowers them so that we now lie naked together. We kiss and make love, caressed by the sun’s rays and brushed with the ocean air.

  Journey and I spent the bulk of the day in the sun and in each other’s arms. We agreed to meet up with our posse of friends at The Green Monkey again tonight. Sitting at the bar, watching Journey speak to Rico in Spanish, I am lost in my headspace.

  “A kiss for your thoughts?” Journey breaks up my internal brooding. I open my mouth, then shut it quickly and tilt my head questioningly. “Yes, I offered a kiss for your thoughts. I figured that might sway you more than a penny. Plus, I don’t have a penny to give you at the moment since I don’t have any cash on me.”

  My smile widens. “You have the right idea.”

  Journey leans into me, holding a shot glass. “Lean your head back.”

  I do as she orders, and she puts one hand under my chin and uses the other to place the rim of the shot glass on my bottom lip. “Don’t swallow,” she commands. She gently pours the sweet liquid into my mouth, and I put my lips together. She then tilts my head forward and places her mouth over mine. When she does, she parts my lips with her tongue, causing the alcohol mixture to pour into her mouth. At any other time, if someone described it to me, I might think this kind of gesture disgusting, but doing it is incredibly sensual.

  I begin to ache for her and can no longer resist placing my hands on the curves of her butt cheeks, wrestling my tongue with hers. In the middle of the loud, busy bar, it is just us- Journey and Jack. We continue our steamy exchange for a few moments, until Journey’s mouth smiles against mine, signaling the end of our kiss.

  I completely forgot the purpose of the kiss until Journey says, “Now, tell me what you were thinking about when I made the offer. I kept my end of the bargain.”

  “I was just thinking about how superficial George can be and how he makes a point to show everyone that he carries wads of cash or that he has a Black AmEx.” I surprise myself with my honest answer.

  “You were thinking about George? That’s not nearly as exciting as I thought it may have been, but, totally, he’s an arrogant ass, if you ask me. I mean, who cares how big his bankroll is? Money doesn’t buy you class, that’s for sure.”

  “You’re exactly right,” I agree, tapping her on the nose.

  “Are you drunk yet?” Journey asks me with uplifted eyebrows.

  “I’m getting there. You?”

  “Same. Rico? Shots, please.”

  After we are exhausted from dancing and drinking, we exit the bar for a leisurely walk on the beach. Hand in hand, we walk in the break of the ocean’s tide. Journey’s hair is swept up wildly each time there is a gust of wind creating shimmering trails of crimson behind her.

  “Jack, I don’t want this to end.”

  “I don’t either.”

  I wonder if she’s referring to us being together beyond this week and not just vacation.

  “No, when I say I don’t want this to end, I mean this this. As in, what we have.”

  Question answered… I feel the same way, but there are so many outlying factors, that I don’t know if it’s feasible for us to expect to be together beyond these short weeks together. I am relieved that she seems to feel the same way about us, but I am also terrified of things going horribly wrong. She has medical school, and I have to finish grad school and business keeps me in New York at this time. What if things don’t work out? I can’t imagine how devastating it would be for one of us to completely change their life for the other, and it not work out.

  Despite these reservations, I am honest when I say, “I don’t want this this to end either.”

  “But, I don’t see how it can’t end. I mean, we’re soon to be in completely different corners of this country. I have med school and you have school and work. I think it would be entirely selfish for either of us to ask the other to give up their lives. At least for now. On top of that, we don’t know each other outside of vacation mode. This this could be non-existent outside of a beautiful beach with no responsibilities and nowhere else to be.”

  “I’ve thought the exact same things and have the same concerns, but I think it might at least be worth a try.”

  “Perhaps, but I can’t ask you to commit to someone who doesn’t even know what exactly she wants out of life and has so many commitments that must come first.”

  “What if we compromise? What if we communicate beyond a few annual texts? We don’t have to commit to one another in terms of exclusivity or labels.”

  “You mean, why don’t we act like normal people and have a friendship first, then see how it goes?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “I think I can manage that.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  Chapter 6

  Journey

  Is it wrong that I’m a more than a little proud that I can keep up with Jack when it comes to drinking? Okay, it might be, but I think I’ve finally worn down some of his defenses. My system of giving physical affection in exchange for answers is working.

  I’ve learned that his mother is Greek and her family was a large shipping magnate in Greece. I now know that his parents met as his father was vacationing in Greece on a yacht, but his mother didn’t live there. It turns out that she lived in Massachusetts, so they easily reconnected back in the states and the rest is history. He’s told me little tidbits here and there, but is still guarded. Regardless, some information is better than none.

  He’s like an artichoke- you have to peel off all of the little pokey leaves on the top in order to even get to the outer layers in the center. Once you get there, you still have several layers t
o go through until you get to the actual heart, which is surrounded by a gorgeous purple before it’s cooked.

  “You’re an artichoke,” I say, kissing Jack on the nose.

  “I’m a vegetable? I think it might be time to slow down on the drinks.”

  “That may be so, but you’re still a sweet, sexy artichoke.”

  “And you’re my wildflower.”

  “How’s that?”

  “You’re pretty and unique, you can thrive under any circumstance, and I have a feeling if someone were to mow over you, you would grow back to be just as pristine and gorgeous as ever.”

  “Exactly what species of wildflower am I?”

  Without hesitation, he replies, “Forget-me-not.” I tilt my head thinking it over. He continues, “It seems pretty self-explanatory.”

  “I’m hard to forget?”

  He grins. “No, you’re small and unique, just like a forget-me-not. Your vibrancy stands out everywhere you are just as the forget-me-not does in any bouquet of flowers. Put a million of you together, and you leave a lasting and beautiful impact on the world around you.”

  “Wow.” I stand blinking, captivated by his answer. “That’s so much better than my name for you, but I’m still claiming you as an artichoke.”

  “You can call me anything you want, as long as you keep giving me your lips.”

  I start to grant his request, but Lexie stops me. “Okay lovebirds, Tony and I are out of here. Catch up with you tomorrow.”

  “Wait!” I call out to Lexie, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the corner of the bar. “Uno momento, Tony.”

  Tony nods in response, but not before I’m dragging Jack behind me. Lexie looks at me expectantly in annoyance. She’s had a similar powwow with me a time or two before.