I shook my head as he ended the call. I couldn’t help thinking of all the times I’d seen pitiable men, waiting outside women’s changing rooms, looking for all the world as if they’d been there since the dawn of time. But I was also intrigued, and if Sebastian wanted to come with me, well, I wasn’t going to argue.
He was sitting on the curb with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head, as if he was some punk looking for trouble. The thought made me smile: it was the polar opposite of Sebastian’s personality which was so warm and thoughtful and caring, although I was beginning to recognize a reckless streak in him, too.
“Hi!”
“Hi yourself!” he answered happily as he scrambled in and fastened his seatbelt.
I longed to lean over and kiss him but we couldn’t risk it here.
“So where are we going?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know: a mall somewhere.”
“Mom goes to Mission Valley. They’ve got all those brand name stores out there.”
I screwed up my face at the suggestion.
“That’s not really me. Besides, I want to avoid going somewhere I might run into your mom!” What a horrifying thought. Sebastian clearly agreed because I saw him wince.
“I thought maybe we could head up towards Miramar: there’s that mall at Westfield UTC.”
“Whatever.”
“So, do you make a habit of this?”
He looked puzzled.
“Going shopping for women’s clothes?”
He grinned widely.
“It’s my new hobby, especially if you’re buying underwear?”
I laughed, blushing slightly.
“Well, I ought to: I seem to keep losing mine.”
He sniggered. “Yeah! That’s fun.”
His happiness spilled over and I felt my spirits soaring: six uninterrupted hours with the man I loved. Six stolen hours.
“Did I tell you I was a member of the surf life saving club at school?” he said, changing the subject.
I could tell he had something on his mind.
“No, but I guess I’m not surprised.”
“Well, my manager at work, Miss Perez, she said that they’d get me certified for CPR and First Aid so I could be a trainee lifeguard at the pool. And I can start studying for the Open Water course, too, although I won’t be able to take the test until I’m eigh... until later. It’ll make it easier to get work in NYC.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“And I was thinking,” he continued quickly, “if I take a course to be a personal trainer, I could earn maybe a hundred bucks an hour once I’m qualified. You know, while you’re getting your journalism career going. I was looking at some apartments on the internet: they’re pretty expensive. I couldn’t find anything less than $2,000 a month unless we live in one of the outer boroughs, and we’d take a train or a ferry to get to work and school. It’s a little slower, I guess, but a lot cheaper. But by the end of the summer, I’ll have enough for the first month’s rent wherever we live.”
He looked at me anxiously.
A powerful swell of emotion swept through me. Here he was, 17 years old, planning for our future, determined to make it happen – and what had I contributed? Nothing. David had steered my life over the last 11 years: now I was letting – expecting even – that Sebastian would do the same. I felt ashamed.
“What do you think, Caro?”
“I think you’re extraordinary,” I said honestly.
He blinked, surprised by my unexpected answer. Then he grinned.
“Extraordinary, huh? I can live with that. And you called me ‘God’ the other night – that was okay, too.”
“I like your plan,” I said, deliberately ignoring the second half of his reply. “But we need to make sure you can fit your college courses in, too. I don’t want you giving up a university education. Besides, I could look for some translation work or maybe even teaching Italian – conversation classes – nothing too formal as I’m not a qualified teacher.”
“Well, you know, I looked at that, too. You could be a translator for the courts in NY – you can get $125 a day. Federal Courts pay even more.” He reached out and took my hand, then kissed it. “I can’t wait for us to be together.”