Some Place Better Than Here

Chapter 17: Changing of the Guards

17
Changing of The Guards

===========DANNY==========

The day broke with a light that I wished were that of the moon's so our night could be truly endless. Awakening to the sight of her hair rolling silkily down over the back of her shoulders, tousled in rings and waves from the rain and the humidity and the night—may have been the most perfect thing I had ever seen. And I was confident that, in that first inhale of the morning—as I held my breath to preserve all its perfection—and before the exhale of what would become the rest of our lives, that I had everything I always wanted.

I hadn't snuck out of The Old Abandoned Beach House since I was there last—four years ago. In the middle of screwing the bolts of the door back on, I realized that I had committed breaking and entering, and if I were to be caught, I could be charged with a pretty serious criminal offense. And the sunlight, blinding and bouncing off the morning tide, made it all too easy for someone to see us right now and call the cops.

Breaking in last night / Just Mary and I,

Like Bonnie and Clyde,

Committing some innocent crime.

Now that's one for the Lyric Book, I thought.

The only witnesses to our criminal affair were the black silhouettes of the seagulls, gawking and cawing overhead in the crisp blue sky streaked with faint wisps of clouds. All of which made me think that it was the perfect beach day. I nearly suggested it to Mary. When we made it to the boardwalk, already sun-beaten and hot, the smell of roasting corndogs still hung in the muggy air from the night before.

The Stang (God, did I really just refer to it as that?) woke up to her summer-self when I put the top down, exposing her leather seats to the same beating sun that I could feel on the back of my neck.

As I pulled out of the parking space, I saw the strangest thing. These two fat cats wearing suits—and not stylish ones, but the kind fat cats who have their bored wives dress them wear—get out of an Escalade with NEWCASTLE REALITY silkscreened on the door. Which was weird because didn't those guys realize that it was hot enough to break a Fahrenheit record? Shrugging it off, I pulled into traffic and completely forgot about it.

"Danny," Mary interrupted '90s Greenday on the radio to say at the red light of Lockport and Atlantic Way.

"Yeah?"

And without answering, she grabbed my face and made out with me.

We jumped at the honk of a horn; the light had turned green. So much had changed in less than twenty-four hours.

Although, other things hadn't changed all that much—such as I was still instructed to drop her off at the infamous intersection. And, unfortunately for me while we were kissing, right before she popped out of the car, I wondered if Tanner had made it any further. Was he allowed to drop Mary off at her front door? Since Mary and I were—dating, why would a girl's parents care if she were with a sweet boy such as myself? Not only did I begin wondering if I would ever meet her parents, I wondered if last night meant Mary and I were boyfriend and girlfriend.

For my entire life, I'd been under this impression that, once I lost my virginity, I would transform into this hulking male figure of testosterone. But honestly, I felt exactly the same, which wasn't a bad thing. I didn't get what all the hype over the First Time was about. Or why there was even a division between virgins and the de-virginitized. If anything, the distress stemmed from the emotional confusion of, Were we effing dating?

Obviously, I was aware of every integer on the meter of my heart, but I certainly wasn't aware if, to Mary, any of the time we'd spent together was anything more than "hangouts." And then last night happened. I had to remind myself of, Will you just fucking kiss me already?