Chapter Seven

JULIAN

March 2, 1990

We had the day off from school today, so Grayson took me out for one amazing excursion. Yesterday at lunch, he told me he had something special planned for us. ‘Us.' That sounds nice, doesn't it? And to duck out of whatever my family might have scheduled. To be honest, we never have anything planned because papá is never home. I woke up with a good feeling in my chest, excited for the morning to be over.

Mamá made pan de mallorca as a special weekend treat for my sister Amelia and I, which is one of my favorites. But what I was looking forward to the most was spending the day with my secret boyfriend. My family still doesn't know a thing about him. And I'm not sure I ever want them to.

Grayson said to meet him down at the Piggly Wiggly at eleven. Since I slept in way too late today, I didn't need to wait too long. After finishing a game of Uno with Amelia on the floor of her bedroom, I ran to mine so I could get ready for this secret date. With no clue about what Grayson had planned, I closed my eyes and picked whatever my hands touched in the drawer. They first landed on a blue polo shirt, then in the one below, a pair of khaki shorts. It's only March, but it seemed like a shirt and shorts kind of a day.

I told mamá that I was invited to go fishing with a group of kids from school. She doesn't know I'm one of the least popular kids. Gratias Deo for that. On my walk to meet Grayson, I passed the corner of Stevens Road and Pine when I glanced over at the funeral home down the way. It occurred to me that Grayson never talks about his family. All I know is they own Harmony Memorial, and that he has an older brother named Jacob.

After a twenty minute walk, I finally spotted Grayson's green truck at the end of the grocery store parking lot. He stood there, leaning into the tailgate of his truck with a huge grin on his beautiful face. My expression matched his once I got closer.

"Are you ready for our adventure, Cutie?" He questioned me, taking my hand in his.

Oh Deus meus. I just love it when he calls me little names like that.

"Yes, I'm all yours," I replied. "Saccharo Ferre."

Grayson chuckled while opening the door for me like a true gentleman. "What's that mean?" He asked with a wrinkled nose.

I smiled as I looked into those cola-colored eyes of his. "It means ‘sugar bear' in Latin."

"Oh, that's neat," he said. "Why'd you call me Sugar Bear?"

My window had been rolled down, so I stretched my arm out to grab the placket of his denim shirt. "Because your eyes remind me of a Coke, and it has a lot of sugar," I said with a wink. "And your personality reminds me of a giant teddy bear."

I'm pretty sure that got his engines going, since he blew an air kiss before stepping around the hood of his truck to climb inside. We left the parking lot and drove down the road for what seemed like thirty minutes. But maybe it only felt that long because I was a little nervous not knowing where we were headed. On the seat between us was a red Playmate cooler. And next to it, a silver boombox. Boy was I curious about what was about to go down.

We reached Grayson's planned destination as he parked off the dirt road in front of a group of old hickory trees. Beyond them was a narrow path that wrapped around behind, taking us to a huge lake. He carried the boombox and cooler in each hand. Meanwhile, I followed his lead along the wooden planks of a pier which stretched out over the water. Down from the ledge, was a small blue rowboat. It became clear to me then, that his adventure involved floating around the water.

He climbed down into the boat before reaching his arm up to help me step inside. It wobbled from side to side the moment my left foot landed. And a second time when I lowered the other. He sat on the bench across from me and started rowing us out into the middle of the water. I couldn't help but feel all the anxiety in my stomach melt away. Ripples formed on the water's surface with each dip of the oars. Once we reached about midway, he looked at his watch before leaning over to turn on the radio. That seductive smile returned to his face, while his lips formed the shape of a low hanging crescent moon.

After a moment of him fussing with the radio tuner, he glanced up at me. I heard the radio DJ speaking at the tail end of the current song.

"This next one goes out to Grayson's special friend, who asked us this morning to play this song precisely at this very minute. So, Grayson's friend, enjoy this hit from back in ‘82 from Sheriff. This is ‘When I'm With You' on Felton's number one station—99.2 FM."

My heart melted as soon as the song played. Who knew Grayson had the capacity to be so romantic? He took my left hand and raised it to his lips, just like he did a few months back. Except this time, he planted a kiss on the top of my knuckles. The song specifically spoke about keeping things inside from everyone else, except the one person they love the most. If that was truly the case, then I thought in the moment, I might just be able to learn more about his family. The song ended almost as quickly as it started. But feeling all that I was, my mind was focused on so much more than the words in the song.

"Pulchellus puer," I whispered low as the boat floated in the wind's direction. "Damnare cor meum et conflandum."

He smiled again. "And what does that mean, pretty boy?"

"It does actually mean ‘pretty boy,' but also," I paused. "You melt my damn heart."

Grayson's cheeks turned the slightest shade of red and he winked. "So I finally got one right," he chuckled. "And I was calling you that, not guessing!"

I grabbed my fast-beating heart and gushed. "O Deus meus!"

Grayson reached down to unlatch the cooler. "You're so distracting, Julian," he winced. "I nearly forgot all about our lunch."

As if lunch was very important. Certainly not as essential as the moment we were sharing. Just being in his presence makes me feel like nothing else in this world matters. I can't imagine what I'd be feeling right now, if papá chose to move our family somewhere else. Grayson Welles is living proof that destiny is real.

He pulled out pre-made sandwiches, along with individually packaged chips from the deli at the market. I could tell he took great pride in planning every detail and prepared for pretty much every scenario. Except for maybe two things. Mustard smeared around the corners of my mouth as I took my first bite. I reached down for a napkin, but didn't find any in the cooler.

Grayson raised his palm to his forehead and sighed. "Oh, damn it," he exclaimed. "I forgot all about napkins."

"That's okay," I replied. "That's what your tongue is for."

That devilish grin returned to his face. "I think you might be right."

I leaned in his direction while he did the same. Our lips touched for the first time today, while we heard a loud crack of thunder from overhead. The fact that it could possibly rain didn't seem to bother either of us, as I felt his tongue slide around every edge of my mouth. My free hand reached around his neck, while my tongue rubbed against his. Within minutes, we felt prickly drops of rain down the backs of our necks. Meanwhile, hundreds of circular ripples formed along the surface of the water as the storm raged around us.

"Oh fuck!" Grayson said loudly.

I pulled my head away from his with a beaming grin. "Such language from an innocent boy like you."

"And you're wearing shorts," he said, pointing out my obviously poor choice of clothing.

Grayson grinned from cheek to cheek, grasping hold of both oars. He rowed us to the other side of the lake while the rain drenched every square inch of my clothes. I tossed the sandwich overboard because the bread had already gotten soggy. In my mind, I studied Grayson's great arm strength as he rowed hard and fast.

Once we approached a bank on the other side of the water, we stood and stepped out to shore. Followed by a bright flash of lightning which struck across the quickly darkened sky. He tossed the cooler aside while he handed me the boombox, before he bent down to turn the boat over so it wouldn't fill with rain.

"Come on, I know of a dry place," he said before taking my hand and retrieving the radio from my grasp.

He tugged on my arm while leading the way. Thunder clapped a few more times on our jog up a dirt trail which took us to a wooden shack, but it was padlocked shut.

"It's locked," I pointed out at the same time he reached under a large rock.

"Don't worry, this is my pawpaw's old shed," he said while holding up a gold key. "He's usually too drunk to remember anything," he added with a shrug. "So he keeps a spare under here."

Grayson unlocked the latch and led me inside, where we took cover from the unplanned storm. The pattering sound of rain could be heard all over the roof of the shed. I looked around to see a bunch of nets, fishing poles, and other kinds of gear hanging from hooks.

"Sorry there's no light in here," he said.

"I'm not scared of the dark when you're around, Saccharo Ferre," I assured him.

"I'll always protect you, Cutie," he replied. "I promise you that."

We lowered to the wood floor before I pushed Grayson to his back, climbing on top of him. My mouth locked in with his as the feelings in my body started taking over. I could practically hear my heart telling me to unzip his jeans before unbuttoning my shorts. But my brain signaled otherwise. In the intensity of that moment, I was overcome with such an urge to feel his dick in my hand. So, I reached my hand down to his waist, then started unbuttoning his jeans before he let out a moan.

"Stop a minute," Grayson said while grabbing my arm.

Because it was pitch black in there, I couldn't tell if he was upset or not. My heart immediately froze while I swallowed the guilt of making him uncomfortable. I thought he liked me. "What's wrong?" I asked.

He whispered quietly. "Dontcha think we should wait a little while before we take the next step?"

Maybe my earlier feelings were a bit premature. But I had to be sure. "Is this your first time?" I asked.

"Well yeah—" his reply staggered, rubbing my arm with his warm palm. "It sorta is."

That made me feel better. He wasn't mad as much as he was probably just unsure of how to go from first base to second. I scratched the side of my head. "Yeah, me too."

"It would be okay but—" Grayson started to reply, then paused. "Here in America, we have a law," he added. "And since you're already eighteen and I'm not yet, if someone found out about it," he continued. "You could get in big trouble."

It never occurred to me that the legal age in America was different from Puerto Rico.

"Oh, I didn't know," I replied. "Okay then." I mumbled. "Back home, it would be okay if you were sixteen," I whispered, just amazed that here it's much stricter. "So how much longer do we gotta wait?"

"I turn eighteen in only a couple more months," he assured me. "But it's not at all that I don't want to right now."

I let out a sigh. "Well, we'll wait then."

As soon as I finished assuring him it was fine that we waited to take things another step further, I heard the whine of his boombox turning on. I felt Grayson reach his arm out, placing his hand on my shoulder. Meanwhile, the mellow tune of Franki Valli's song "I Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" played through the stillness. I grabbed his wrist and kissed the back of his hand several times, before lowering my head to find his lips from the base of his chin. We continued kissing with so much passion while waiting out the storm.

"Why don't you talk about your family?" I asked, lying in Grayson's protective arms.

He cleared his throat. "They're not that interesting," he assured me with fingers brushing through my hair.

"Yeah but, other than having an older brother and your family business," I replied. "I don't know much else about them."

"Uhhh—" he seemed hesitant to share much else. "My parents can seem nice and all on the outside," he added. "Well, my mom isn't too awful," he admitted, patting my chest. "But my dad's a drunk prick."

"Prick?" I asked, honestly curious having never heard of that term being associated with a person.

Grayson continued speaking after taking a breath. "Yeah, like a real dick," he sighed. "If either of them ever found out about us, I just know they'd make my life miserable," he added with a hard swallow of air. "Mostly because my mom just goes with whatever my dad decides."

I brushed my fingers across what felt like Grayson's cheek. "Same, but you know my parents are Catholic."

"Mine are Baptist," he said. "The fire and brimstone kind."

"How are we gonna stay a secret forever?" I asked, but I honestly think about it all the time.

"We'll just have to find a way," he responded before kissing my neck.

It was probably an hour of constant thunder and lightning before the clouds parted, allowing sunshine to return over the lake. We followed the trail back to the boat, when Grayson forced all his strength in an effort to turn the boat back over. He rowed us in the same direction we came, while my thoughts returned to how much I'm falling madly in love with him. More so than even a month or two ago.