“I don’t think they have a lot of beaches in New York City.”
“Yeah, they do! I checked. Well, not the city exactly but there’s a surf community at Rockaway Beach. If we lived in Brooklyn or Queens, we’d be less than 10 miles from it.”
I had to smile. “You’ve been doing your research.”
“Sure! And a guy I know who used to surf Long Beach said that it can get pretty gnarly.”
“I think you should write me a glossary of surfing terms so I know what you’re talking about.”
“Well, you’ve gotta know about Sex Wax, baby.”
“What?!”
“Yeah, you rub it on your stick.”
“Okay, you’ve got about five seconds to explain that or…”
“Or what?”
“No peanut butter for you!”
“Wow! You really do play rough!”
“You’d better believe it.”
He laughed and tugged my hair gently.
“Sex Wax is a brand name for the kind of wax you put on your board – your stick. It helps give you traction. Not as much fun as it sounds.”
“Preferisci una inceratura a caldo... o a freddo?”
“What does that mean? Because it sounded really dirty!”
“I said, ‘Do you like it coated in hot wax... or cold?’”
“Oh man! That sounded so hot!”
“Si è alzata l’onda, o sei proprio contento di vedermi?”
“Huh?”
“Is the surf up or are you just pleased to see me?”
“Fuck! It makes me so horny when you say stuff like that.”
“Sebastian, I could read a bus timetable and you’d say it made you horny!”
He smiled. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve got a tide table in my jeans’ pocket. Will you read that to me?”
“You want a bedtime story? Does that sound good?”
“Supra la luna!”
“You’re learning!”
“You’re a good teacher,” he murmured into my hair.
His stomach rumbled loudly, interrupting the mood somewhat.
“Are you hungry?”
“Hungry for you.”
“That is such a cheesy line, Sebastian!”
“Yeah, but it’s still true.”
I kicked the sheets off the bed and pushed him away, grabbing my robe.
“Come on. I’m going to feed you. A little lesson in Italian cookery.”
“Pizza?” he said hopefully.
“That’s not proper Italian food. Papa would turn in his grave! No, we’ll make some fresh tortellini.”
“Will it take long?”
“It can be a bit tricky.”
He sat up, propping himself with a pillow.
“We don’t have that much time,” he said solemnly. “I have to be at work at 2 PM.”
I held back a sigh as I pulled on my robe.
“Oh well. Something quick then. How are you going to get there? Ches?”
When he didn’t reply I looked over at him.
“What’s wrong?”
“I was going to ask mom to drive me.”
“Oh, why?”
He blew out a lungful of air and fiddled with the sheet.
“Ches is kind of mad at me.”
“I can’t imagine that. He seems so easy going.”
Sebastian looked uncomfortable.
“I guess. But… he doesn’t get why I won’t tell him who I’m… dating.”
I couldn’t help sniggering. “I’m sorry, really. It’s just… dating?!”
He gave a half-smile and ran a hand over his hair.
“Whatever. He said that I shouldn’t expect him to cover for me with my folks if I don’t trust him with the truth.”
I felt a shiver run through me.
“Has he had to cover for you?”
He didn’t reply.
“Tell me!”
He grimaced.
“Mom… she noticed that I wasn’t there for two nights. She… she kind of made a big deal out of it.”
I groaned. “I knew it!”
“She phoned Ches’s mom and Ches said that I’d stayed over. I guess Mrs. Peters is covering for me, too. She knew I hadn’t been there.”
“We’ll just have to be more careful,” I whispered.
“Maybe… maybe I could tell Ches. He’d keep it a secret, I know he would.”
I was appalled. I understood why he wanted to tell his friend but I couldn’t let that happen.