Variables of Love

by M. K. Schiller

  We sat in the cozy car, and Ethan pulled the restraint across us. “You can hold on to this,” he said, gesturing to the lap bar, “or here.” He patted his arm.

  I gripped the bar tightly.

  “You know, that’s not really holding us. It’s the gravity.”

  “Are you trying to freak me out?”

  “I’m just letting you know why my arm is the better choice.”

  The ride took off, and somewhere between the steep dips and inclines, I clutched his arm and buried my face in his chest.

  When the ride came to a sudden halt, Ethan put his hand over mine. “You okay, Sunshine?”

  I lifted my face, smiling widely. “Can we go again?”

  Ethan

  We made our way down the midway where the carnival games were. I stopped at a pitching game and laid down some money.

  “What are you doing?” Meena asked.

  “I’m going to win you something.”

  “Ethan, these games are shams,” she whispered, like she was afraid she would offend the man who ran the game. It was so cute I had to laugh.

  “I can win this one.” She stared at me with those beautiful brown eyes, giving me a doubtful look. “Eight years as starting pitcher in little league says I can win.”

  I really wanted to get her a present, but she wouldn’t like that. She didn’t want any reminders that it was her birthday, and I didn’t want anything to ruin our day, so this was a good compromise.

  I weighed the wooden ball in my hand and threw it at the target of stacked balls. I missed, not once, but twice. Meena chuckled next to me.

  “What?”

  “I thought you said you were good at this.”

  I smirked at her, shaking my head. “Look at you, little Miss Smack-Talker.” I pointed to the two remaining balls. “You try.”

  “Oh, no, I couldn’t do that.”

  “Just try. I’m giving you free use of my balls.” I didn’t even get the double meaning until she started giggling. The man behind the counter laughed too. I smiled sheepishly. “Just humor me,” I coaxed, pressing the wooden ball into her hand.

  I showed her how to stand and aim, enjoying how close we were. She smelled like my body wash, but more feminine. Meena threw the ball fast and hard, which was impressive, but her aim was off. It missed the target entirely, hitting one of the stuffed prizes, which landed right on the guy behind the counter.

  She bit her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Were you trying to do that? Because that’s a really cool parlor trick,” I remarked.

  She shot me a cynical glance.

  “Come here, little Miss Smack-Talker.” I moved her off to the side, leaning down so my mouth was next to her ear. “Let me handle this. You stand here and pick out your prize.”

  I readied my last shot, trying to clear my mind and concentrate on the target. I threw it with accuracy and just the right amount of strength, knocking down the target. She squealed, patting me on the back in congratulations. I was hoping for a hug, but this was nice too. I was just happy my cocky attitude hadn’t backfired on me.

  “Which one?” the counter man asked.

  “That one,” Meena said, pointing to the strangest stuffed animal I’d ever seen. It looked a bit deformed, like the factory had made a mistake. It was the oddest shade of green, and it had two different kinds of ears. One was floppy and the other pointed. Even the counter guy asked if she was sure.

  “Yes, is that okay?”

  “Are you kidding? That’s great. I’ve been trying to get rid of this thing for years,” he said, getting it down for her.

  She stared at the stuffed toy in her hand with crazy adoration as we made our way to the car.

  “Thank you, Ethan. I love it. I’ve never had a stuffed animal.”

  “Not even when you were a kid?” It was hard to imagine. I thought it was a rite of passage for all kids.

  “No, only learning toys. It’s beautiful.”

  Beautiful was the last word I’d use to describe it. “Is it a bear or a dog?”

  “Maybe it’s a bog. See what I did there?” she said, laughing. I loved that laugh. It was innocent and sexy at the same time.

  “Very clever. Aren’t you going to be scared of it? I mean one eye is like twice the size of the other, and the ears don’t match. It looks like it came out of a horror movie.”

  “Nope, I’ll love it, not in spite of its differences, but because of them.”

  I shrugged, but I got what she was saying. She picked it because no one else would, and that said a lot about the kind of person she was.

  “Are we going home now?” she asked when we reached the car.

  “No, we’re going to leave Bog here and go to the beach. We can’t come to Santa Cruz and not say a passing hello to the Pacific.”

  I wanted to pull her close and take her hand as we made our way to the beach, but I restrained myself. I settled for keeping step with her, watching in fascination at the way the wind snapped strands of her hair loose from her ponytail.

  “Why Batman?” she asked me as we walked along the edge where the sand and water greeted each other.

  I stuffed my hands in my pocket. “I’m a math geek, so of course I like comic books.”

  “I wouldn’t consider anything about you geeky.”

  “Batman is the best superhero, you know.”

  “Why?”

  “He was just a guy. He didn’t have any superpowers. He just used his brain and some kickass tools. I like all of them, though. I collected a ton of comic books as a kid. I still have them at my mom’s house in Los Angeles.”

  “You’re so mysterious, Ethan.”

  I’m mysterious? “What are you talking about? I’m an open book.”

  “Well, for one thing, I have no idea where you really live or where you’re from. You’ve mentioned New York, Los Angeles, and Texas. For another, you’ve mentioned your mom, but you never talk about your dad.” When I didn’t respond right away, she added, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

  “I grew up in Austin, Texas, until I was twelve, and my mom moved us to Los Angeles for her job. My father always lived in New York, and I would stay with him during summer and Christmas vacation. I love all three places, so I consider all of them my home.”

  “It must be hard dealing with divorce.”

  I hesitated answering, wondering how she’d react, but as usual, I deferred to the truth. “My mother and father were never together. I was the product of a one night stand.”

  She stopped in her tracks, staring at me. “Your parents told you that?”

  “When I was old enough. They were always honest with me. Does that make you think differently of me?”

  She shook her head so hard her ponytail flew along. “Not at all. I’m just surprised they told you. I already know you’re an amazing person, so there’s really nothing that can change my mind about that.”

  I smiled coyly at her compliment. “Thank you.”

  “What is your father like?”

  “He was great. He died of a heart attack right before I came to college. I don’t talk about him, but not because I didn’t love him. It’s actually the opposite. I really miss him.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Ethan.”

  I gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, you didn’t know. My mother met my father when she was in Mexico on spring break. He was there for a business conference. He was a successful entertainment attorney. They were kind of opposites. He was older than her and very conservative. She was in grad school. It’s funny—even though they never had a relationship, my father was always in my life. He was the kind of dad that would fly out to surprise you when your baseball team made the championships. He called me every night, too, and sent me letters. He was a busy man, but he wrote me actual letters on paper.”

  “It sounds like he loved you very much.”

  “I know it’s not a common story. My parents never loved each other, but I never
questioned that they both loved me.”

  We walked silently for a while. She curled her pinky around mine. It was my usual move, meant to comfort her, but right now, it was having the same effect on me.

  “Why did you pick Stanford?” I asked. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m happy you’re here—but it seems so far away.”

  “That’s why I picked it,” she replied solemnly.

  I couldn’t blame her for not wanting to go home. Why would she want to if they didn’t even celebrate her birthday?

  “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” she said. “I love my parents. They’re wonderful. But ever since Vijay died, something in our family broke. We mostly ignore each other. I don’t give them any reasons to worry, and we just go through the motions.”

  “The motions of what?”

  “Life, I guess. Why did you pick Stanford?”

  I knew she wanted to change the topic, and I was glad to do it.

  I grinned. “I actually really debated it. I got into MIT and Harvard, but I wanted to come here. Funny, isn’t it? We could have ended up on the opposite sides of the county in each other’s home states.”

  “But why not MIT? Isn’t it math heaven?”

  I laughed. “This time you will think less of me.”

  “No, I promise I won’t. Tell me.”

  “I like to surf. It’s hard to surf in Massachusetts.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, there’s nothing like swimming in the Pacific.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  This time I stopped walking, “You’ve never been in the ocean? What about the Atlantic?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Why?”

  “The emotional impairment I suffered from watching Jaws at the tender age of six resulted in exaggerated fears of the ocean.”

  I bit back my smile. “You’re kidding.”

  “I know it’s irrational. I can swim, but I just prefer pools. I had nightmares about sharks eating me for a long time after I watched that movie.”

  “You realize the fact you weren’t in the ocean protected you from any attacks, right?”

  “I was six. Cut me some slack, Swan Boy.”

  “Fair enough, but you’re not six anymore.” I sat down on the sand and began taking off my shoes. “I’m going to prove you have nothing to fear.”

  “How?”

  “We’re going in. This time we’ll dip our feet in. Next time more.”

  “More?”

  “You can’t go through life being a toe-dipper, Sunshine. Come on, Meena, prove something to yourself.”

  “Why do you care about my stupid fears, Ethan?”

  Because I care about you, I wanted to say, but instead, I grinned. “I’m no shark hunter, but I’d fight one for you.”

  She laughed, and what a great laugh it was—enthusiastic, genuine, and so very sexy. “That’s quite possibly the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me. I accept the challenge.” She sat next to me and took off her shoes and socks. We both rolled up our jeans.

  I took off my sweatshirt and took her cell from her front pocket and threw it down next to mine. We walked toward the water with our hands clasped.

  “It’s not so bad, is it?” I asked, as much to comfort her as anything else. She didn’t act nervous except for her tight grip on my hand.

  “No, but it’s colder than I thought.”

  “We won’t go further than this.”

  I turned to her, holding both her hands. The wind whipped through the strands of her hair. Her eyes met mine. I could get lost in those eyes…drown in them. I inched closer. She parted her mouth. The crashing waves surrounded us.

  “Ethan,” she whispered or maybe she shouted. Hard to tell with all the other sounds.

  She crashed into me, the impact so sudden and strong that we both stumbled back. I fell on my ass, taking her with me. It took a second to realize the turbulent surf was to blame for capsizing us.

  She was on top of me, lying against my chest. I wanted to keep crashing with her. To kiss her senseless right there.

  Instead, I sucked in a deep breath, lifting her gently off me, breaking the moment. I deserved a medal for my restraint, but I promised myself when she agreed to come that I wasn’t going to do anything to make her uncomfortable.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m okay.” She headed toward the beach, her steps fast.

  Our jeans clung to us. She took her sweater off, revealing a tight black tank top. My eyes pretty much popped out of my head. She crossed her arms, covering herself and fighting off her shivers. Dick move, Callahan.

  I threw her my sweatshirt. “You can wear this.”

  “Thank you.”

  Pieces of hair stuck to her face, and her jeans tightened around her perfect ass. I forced myself to look away. Thank God she put the sweatshirt on quickly. I retrieved our cell phones and smiled apologetically at her.

  “What are we going to do now that you’ve gotten me all wet?” she asked.

  I choked at the question. She must have caught the double meaning because she blushed.

  “I have an idea,” I said, taking her hand.

  The Beach Water Shed was a misleading name for the store. It was actually a high-end place, selling beach clothes and swimwear at outrageous prices, but it was convenient. I was familiar with it; I’d been there a few times. We walked in, dripping water all over the spotless floor.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Meena asked, hiding behind me like a child afraid of getting caught.

  “Yeah, they’re used to this kind of stuff.” Even as I said it, the disapproving looks we were getting made it obvious I was talking out of my ass.

  I headed for the first dress I saw. It didn’t hurt that it was a short, white, lacy thing. “Will you wear this?”

  She approached hesitantly. The first thing she did was look at the tag. I tore it off before she could see the price. “It’s on me. It’s my fault you’re wet. It’s only right that I should take care of it.” Fuck, did I just say that?

  She smiled and took the hanger, holding up the dress. She probably thought it was too revealing.

  “We can find something else,” I said.

  “I like this, but I have money.”

  “You have to let me pay, or I’ll feel like a total dick.”

  “Fine, but does that mean I get to pick your outfit?”

  I shuffled my feet. “As long as you don’t make me look stupid.”

  She walked over to the men’s section. It was mostly swim trucks, but she found a pair of khakis and a white linen shirt.

  “Can I help you?” the salesclerk asked. He was short and stocky, but I could tell from his build he worked out. His scowl changed to an instant smile when he turned from me to Meena.

  “We’re sorry. We’re ruining your floor,” she said, tilting her head toward the puddle marking our path in the store.

  “No problemo, sweetheart. Are you getting this?” he said, taking the dress from her.

  She nodded shyly.

  I took out my dripping wallet and handed the guy my Amex card. I knew they worked on commission, and I was hoping it would distract him from staring at her. “We’ll be wearing these out.”

  He pretty much ignored me as he looked over Meena. His gaze slithered down her body. My fists clenched. “This isn’t your size. You’re a small or maybe extra small.”

  “I didn’t look at the size.” Why didn’t I? Oh, probably because I was a dude.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get you the right one. Just go ahead and get into the dressing room before you catch a cold.”

  My jaw tightened, and I wanted to deck this guy, but he was right. She was shivering, and it was my fault.

  I finished changing before she did and stood outside the door. It irked me that the stocky sales boy waited beside me. “What are those?” I asked, staring at the box in his hand.

  “Shoes. She’s going to need shoes, unless she wants
to wear tennis shoes with a dress.” He said it as if I was stupid, and I pretty much was.

  I sucked in a deep breath through my teeth when she came out. The dress hugged her curves, showing off her shapely figure and those long, lean legs. Her hair tumbled down her back, framing her face in rich, silky strands that curled at the ends. I swallowed, trying to form the right words, the ideal compliment, to match what I was feeling. Unfortunately, stocky sales boy beat me to it.

  “You look like an angel.”

  “Thank you.” She rewarded him with a bright smile.

  Dickhead.

  “Very nice,” I muttered.

  “I have the perfect sandals for you right here,” he said, bending down on one knee, getting ready to take her ankle in his beefy hand. That’s not happening.

  I practically shoved the guy out of the way. “I’ll take care of that. You can start checking us out. We’re in a hurry.” I handed him the tags I’d taken from our purchases. He mumbled something incomprehensible, but he left us. I bent down, mimicking his position. “Your shoes, ma’am.”

  Meena placed her hand on my shoulder to steady herself as I slipped the shoes on her dainty feet. They were that beige color girls referred to as nude, but they were a few shades lighter than her. I didn’t know anything about women’s shoes, but I knew that these shoes on her feet were turning me on something fierce.

  “They’re comfortable, but they seem really high.”

  I stood up, my hand hovering over her waist, struggling to keep it from touching.

  “I’ll never let you fall.”

  She took in a deep breath, keeping her eyes on her feet. “I broke my rubber band. My hair’s a mess.”

  “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you for the dress.”

  “Thank you for wearing it.” A thought occurred to me, and I fumbled with the collar of my shirt, trying to form the right words. “Do you need anything else, you know, to wear underneath?” Everything was wet, so it would stand to reason she would, and this store didn’t sell those things.

  She shook her head and smiled. “I can forgo for a night.” She walked away from me.

  Fuck. I discretely readjusted myself. The sight of her ass sashaying in that dress, and knowing she wasn’t wearing any panties, wasn’t helping the cause.