Journey (3 page)

“Another round?” I ask with a mischievous grin.

Jack

“Drink up!” Journey tells me, handing me yet another shot glass.  Rico looks at me and shakes his head both in apology and entertainment.

I can’t even begin to count the number of rounds we’ve had today.  
Man, can this girl hold her liquor...
 Just when I think she might be ready to slow down, she orders a round of something.  I’ve had a good buzz going all day.  Her friends had to slow down hours ago and even took a nap before getting ready to go out tonight.  

After we down our shot, Journey returns to the dance floor, moving and shaking to the music.  I don’t remember this place having much of a dance floor before I met Journey, but the party seems to follow wherever she goes, and there’s a huge dance space in this rustic bar because of it.

All day, she’s been asking many questions about me, which is not her usual style.  She typically just chatters on about herself, and I interject with tidbits about myself here and there when we’re on a subject I don’t mind talking about.  Her direct line of questioning is perplexing to me.  Conversations between my friends and I don’t really involve much query.  We say what we need to say, tell stories we feel like telling, and that’s about it.  

My parents are also very private people.  My father always told me that the more personal information someone knows about you, the more power they hold over you.  I’ve been wise to be guarded and keep a very strong poker face in the business world as well as in my personal relationships.  I’m an intelligent and educated man who realizes that intimate relationships require a little more than simply knowing a few facts about the other person, but I’ve shared more with Journey than I have with everyone else combined in my entire life, which is probably why I feel so connected to her.

I turn toward the bar’s entrance to find George, Marshall, and Hal weaving their way through the sweaty and tightly packed crowd and over to me.

“Hey, Brother,” George greets me, shaking my hand.

“Hey, Man,” I return his salutation.  “Marshall, Hal- How was golf?”

“Pretty good, if you ask me,” Hal answers triumphantly.

“He got lucky,” Marshall adds.  “I got stuck in the rough a few times, and that was it for me.”

“Where’s the redhead?” George asks, looking about the room.

I motion with my head over to the crowd of people.  “Over there, dancing.  If you look in the center of that sea of people, you’ll see a head of red hair bobbing around, lower than everyone else’s.”

George turns around to order drinks as Hal half whispers, “Damn, man.  I think she’s even hotter this year than she was last year.  She going to med school?”

“Yeah.  Going to Berkeley.”  I try to keep a massive smile from taking over my face as I brag.  “It was the school she wanted, so she’s pretty happy.”

“Very cool.  I’ll have to buy a round to celebrate.”

“Are her same friends here too?” Marshall inquires.

“Yeah, they’re all here.”

“Lexie’s the blonde one who’s a cheerleader with her, right?”  Marshall passes me a drink.

“Thanks, and yes, they’re both cheerleaders.  The other two are in their sorority, I think.  They won the national championship this year.”

“I’m embarrassed that I already knew that.”  Marshall gives me a sheepish look.  I flash him a questioning look.  “I was curious, okay?  Did you know that their pictures are everywhere on the internet?  Especially Journey’s since she’s always up in the air doing some contorted move.”

“I guess I’m not a creeper like you, because, no, I didn’t.”  I hadn’t even thought to look for her on the internet, but it makes perfect sense.  All universities have pictures of their athletic teams, especially if they win titles.  Time to start a new hobby when I get back to New York…

“Then I guess I shouldn’t mention the videos,” Marshall chuckles.

Before I can respond sarcastically, a sweating and smiling Journey is moving toward us and my eyes are fixed on her.  In fact, when my eyes scan the room, everyone who is not otherwise distracted is focused on her.  For a woman who isn’t even five feet tall and probably barely a hundred pounds, she commands any room in a mammoth way.  Ogling eyes travel with her movement which is directed straight at me.  I can’t help but broaden my chest, silently boasting because her attention is on me and, at least for the next few days, she belongs to me.

She stops when we are face to face, prompting me to put my hands around her waist and into the small of her back, pulling her into me.  

She giggles and widens her eyes.  “What’s that for?”

“Nothing, really.  Just staking my claim.”  I wink at her.  “You having a good time?”

“Always.”  Journey moves in closer to my ear.  “You better be careful about touching me like that or we will have to go mess around in our usual spot the alley long before the sun is ready to set.”

I gaze back at her, very tempted to pull her into me and nibble on her ear, but I get lost in her deep, green eyes with gold flecks in them.

I am completely disorientated to location and time until Lexie’s voice quips, “It’s only day three.  You have plenty of time to make goo-goo eyes at one another when you’re alone.”  Lexie never makes eye contact.  She looks beyond us, still speaking.  “Hey guys, nice to see you all!  Rico?  
Uno mas, por favor
.”

“One more, coming right up!” Rico replies.

With a small smile, showing the natural and beautiful shape of her full lips, Journey winks back at me, then moves out of my hold.

“Guys!  How great to see you!  Have you had a good time thus far?”

“Eh, could be better,” Hal shrugs.

“Better now that you’re here,” Marshall adds.

Journey throws her head back and gives him her I’m-laughing-at-you-but-I’m-not-really-entertained-by-you laugh.  It’s different from her courtesy laugh, but still somewhat disingenuous.  

“Journey, it’s so nice to see you as always.  I was afraid Jack here was going to lock you away and never let you come out to play.”  George places his hand on my shoulder and shakes it.  I play along with the gesture.

Journey raises an eyebrow.  “How do you know it wasn’t I who had plans to sequester him the whole time?”

George lets out an uncomfortable laugh.  “I guess I just assumed.”

“Oh, George…  You must have heard, a few times at least, that when you assume, you make an ass out of u and me.  Oh, that’s right...You make an ass of yourself all of the time.”  George’s smile falls a few degrees until Journey mimics his gesture he just made with me, placing her hand on his shoulder.  “Come on, Georgie boy, you know I was just kidding.  It’s a banter we have, you and I.”

George’s smile picks back up.  “You know me so well.”

“Good.  Now that we’re all made up, I propose that you buy me a drink.”

“Motion seconded.  Rico?  A round of rattlesnakes, please.”  George pulls out his black American Express credit card, placing it on the bar in an overt fashion.  

George loves to flaunt his black AmEx card any time he can.  While they are not common and only given out to people who meet certain financial requirements, I don’t see it as the status symbol that he does.  I have one, but I tend to use it discreetly.  Actually, I tend to use discretion with everything.  Journey is about the only person who pulls me out of my shell.  Aside from my few buddies here, with whom I grew up, I don’t have many friends.  I tend to keep to myself and stay out of other’s business, keeping them out of mine.  George tries to flaunt his family’s wealth, which truth be told is actually only a fraction of my family’s, but that’s the identity he’s built for himself.  Personally, I’ve seen too many people used for their money, particularly my uncles.  

Both of my mother’s brothers thought that they had found true love.  They married very pretty women who had no money and fathered no children with them.  Both women squandered their fortunes in different ways, and when they decided they had given my uncles enough of their time, they each divorced them, taking half of the money that was left with them as well as large payments of alimony.  One of them learned his lesson, but the other did not.  In his case, history repeated itself, and he became so depressed that he finally took his own life when I was twelve.  

I’ve used his life as a lesson ever since.

Jack

“Hey Jack...I like you,” Journey slurs out as she touches my chest with her index finger.

              We have been getting along so well all week, I don’t want it to end.  But, like every good party, it must come to an end.  In two days, to be exact.

              “I rather like you too.”

              “I’m going to be a doctor,” she says as she stumbles into me.

              I catch her arm before she can fall, and she looks up at me with her deep, green eyes, grinning.
 
“You may have mentioned that earlier,” I smile.

              “I did?  I’m sorry.”  Her smile falls.

              “Did you have a drink I missed?”

              “I don’t think so, but I seem to be very wasted.”

              She does indeed.  She went from zero to sloppy in about one drink, which is very odd.

              “It may have been the tequila.  It’s my nemss…  My nememisss...  It’s not my friend.”

              “Let me walk you back to the condo.”

              “You’re the boss!”  She attempts to salute, but her hand misses her forehead, smacking her nose instead.

              Journey tries to walk with my assistance, but she begins sinking more and more into the sand below her feet.  I finally pick her up and cradle her in my arms.  Her drunken smile looks up at me, and I still find it to be heartwarming.  Then, her eyes gently close.  

              I continue walking along the path to the condo, when she wearily opens her eyes and says, “I once posed nekkid...in a magazine.”

              “Really?”  My smile is short-lived.

              “Yuppers.”  She attempts to lower her voice, but it comes out as a loud whisper.  “I was in a nudie magazine, but that’s our secret.  Shhh!”  She places her finger to her lips and has one eye barely open.

              My smile drops
.  Is she being serious?
 It’s not my place to tell her what she should or shouldn’t do, but she seemed like someone who was more level-headed than that.

              “Are you mad at me now?  I bet you are.  Lots of people are going to be if they find out.”  She lets out a squeak of a hiccup.  “‘S’cuse me.  I just wanted to do something reckless and fun, you know?”

              “Are you sure it’s okay to have those kinds of pictures floating around out there, you know, with your career?”

              “Jack, Jack, Jack…  You don’t understand…  It was
before
I met you.  If anyone finds out, my daddy has money and can fix anything.  That’s what daddies are for- to make sure you have everything you want and fix stuff.  It can’t be much worse than the videos that were taken of me flashing the camera during summer vacation last year by that group that goes around and gets girls to do that stuff and sells it.  I think I got a t-shirt though, so hey, I didn’t completely work for free.”

              “I don’t know about that.  At least those are more anonymous.”

              “Eh…  Life is too short.  YOLO, baby!”

              “I kind of feel that when YOLO was coined, it referred more to living life to the fullest and not so much making careless decisions.”

              Journey stirs a little, pumping her fist into the air, causing locks of hair to fall into her face.  She sticks out her bottom lip and blows, attempting to move the hair out of her way, but she just blows it up and it falls right back again.  I brush it out of her face and she grins at me with glassy, hollow eyes.

              Now I feel like a wet blanket.  I don’t want to be the guy who tells her she’s made some poor decisions, but she has.  She’s alluded to the fact that her parents have some money, but this spoiled, rich-kid persona is one she’s never shown me.  She’s always seemed to be humble and wise.

              We make it back to the condo, but not without a great deal of effort.  I’ve never seen Journey this torn up, and I’ve seen her drink far more than her little body should be able to hold yet still manage to keep up with conversations and help others navigate the beach.  Journey kicks up one foot, causing her sandal to fly high into the air then land on the floor with a loud thud.  She attempts to kick the next one, but I stop her leg from thrusting into the air with my hand.

              “Let me get that for you.”  I slide her other sandal off of her foot and drop it onto the floor next to the bed.

              “I feel like Cinderella.  And you’re my Prince Charming.  No, my Prince Artichoke.”  I have no idea what she means by that, but she’s very cute, even completely snookered like this.  

              “That’s very sweet.  Now, let’s get you into bed.”

              “Okay,” she sings.  “Will you come to bed with me?”

              “It’s a little early, but sure.”

              Journey keeps her eyes closed, but gives me a big smile.  She weighs practically nothing, so it doesn’t take any effort to put her on the bed and cover her.  

              Just as I am about to tell her that I am going to go to the restroom and will be back, George knocks on the door.  “Hey, man.  Hal was looking for you back at the bar.  Something about you giving him a lift...”

              “Oh, shit!”  I look back to Journey, who is already passed out on the bed.  “She’s not really-”

              George raises his hands in front of him, stopping me.  “Don’t worry about it.  I’ll go take care of him.”

              “That would be great.  I really don’t want her to be left alone.  Thanks so much.”

              “No problem.”

              I look over to the petite, red-headed girl, who is now sleeping soundly sideways on the bed.

              Brushing her hair to the side of her face, admiring her smooth skin, I whisper, “I wish I was the only person who ever got to see all of your beautiful body ever again.”

              A groan is released from her mouth as she stirs slightly.  I guess that’s all I’m going to get for now.

              “Take care of her,” George calls out as he leaves.

              “I will.”

***

I was planning to have a good, serious, and intimate talk about our relationship last night with Journey, but she wound up getting a little too drunk to do so.  Perhaps it was for the best.  I don’t know that she feels a pull as strongly toward me as I do to her.  Our chemistry is undeniable, and she breathes life into me, but do I really know what I’m getting with her?  Are feelings you experience when you’re on vacation heightened to make you feel things that wouldn’t be there in another context?  All week, she chipped away at my hardened exterior, little by little, and I was grateful for her patience, but I wish I had more impact on her life.

              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.”