A Pivotal Time

With them, it was always something, from what movie they were going to see to each other's friends they didn't particularly care for to some political issue. They took their issues seriously, too seriously, Barry knew. He had sometimes wondered how they managed to stay together for three years.

Of course, he knew why. The attraction for one thing. Their parents belonged to Hidden Valley, the country club where they met one Friday night when the club hosted a teen mixer. He knew the chemistry was there the moment he asked her to dance. He had seen her shoot down a couple boys before he got up the nerve to approach her. Far from shooting him down, she gave him a hardy welcome of a smile and off they went into the wild blue yonder of teen romance. They dated each other exclusively, replete with heavy make-outs but no all-the-way sex. Even at eighteen, they still hadn't gone beyond third base. One, it wasn't easy finding the privacy they needed; and two, one of their issues always seemed to get in the way. An argument would ensue and all the drama that went with it. And that would be that.

But he still loved her and knew she still loved him. She had told him so the last time they were together. 'Yes, I still love you,' Summer had said, 'but we need a sabbatical, time away from each other.' A 'blessing in disguise' is what she called the fact that they were going to different colleges in different states. He hadn't disagreed. Still, he missed her, missed her enough to do a crazy thing like show up at her vacation house door sans an invite. He'd soon be on his way to the University of Michigan on a partial lacrosse scholarship. There wasn't much time left to reconcile, he thought as he neared his destination, driving his parents' five-year-old, white Chevy Trailblazer. He had packed light for the trip. For all he knew, he could be there for just a few minutes. Or, if things "worked out," a few days.

The nervous tension he felt for much of the three-hour trip mounted when he pulled up to the house just after sunset, though there was still plenty of light out. After cutting the engine, he opened the mirror on his visor, slicked back his light, wavy brown hair and rubbed his hand over his three-day stubble. His hazel eyes stared back at him, anxious eyes are the way he saw them because anxious is the way he felt.

Heart pounding and wearing a black, lightweight windbreaker over his khaki shorts and cross trainers, he exited the Trailblazer and then walked the few steps to her door. The task before him gave him pause. Then he raised his hand to rap his knuckles against the white wood door.

He was just about to knock when the door opened. And there was Summer, standing before him, holding a beach chair tucked under her arm. He saw her blink, as if not fully comprehending who he was.

"Barry?! Ohmygod!"

Did that mean she was glad to see him? Or did it mean that she was horrified? He smiled meekly. "Yep, the one and only. It looks like you're heading out."

She lowered the chair to the floor and shook her head. "Um, yeah, I kind of am. Heading out."

"Poor timing. Guess I should have called first." He grinned, hoping she'd find humor in that.

She didn't. "Yeah, that would have helped. You drove all the way from Baltimore? I mean, it's not like you were in the neighborhood and decided to drop in, right?"

"All the way from Baltimore. Three hours of driving to see the girl I love and miss."

She took an exasperated deep breath just as her parents stepped to the door. They greeted him warmly, shook his hand. They had always liked Barry. When Barry joked about his poor timing, Stephen chuckled and said, "Well, maybe you can join the party."

"Party?" Barry asked.

Summer rolled her eyes and shot her dad an annoyed look. Then she said, "Barry, we need to talk. Follow me."

Once out the door, he watched Summer place her chair in the back of the Ford Explorer. "We can talk in here," she said.

Normally, Barry sat behind the wheel when they were together in a vehicle. Now the roles were reversed. "I'm sorry if I disrupted your plans," he said. "I didn't mean to. Like I said, I missed you."

She looked away, brushing a tear from her tanned cheek. Then she faced him and said, "I missed you too, Barry. What I didn't miss is all the drama. But you already know that."

He nodded, looking her over, her legs, long and tan, her beautifully tanned face, long blond hair and her smallish boobs pressed against the fabric of her sleeveless blouse. He could still see her at age fifteen. Three years later, she hardly looked a day over the way she looked then. "I do know that."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Then he said, "Look, if you want me to leave, I'll do it. No arguments, no drama. I'll be on my way."

She drew a bemused smile. "Do you really think I'd let you drive three hours just to see me and then tell you to get lost?"

He grinned. "Ah, yeah."

She covered her mouth and guffawed. He laughed with her. Then she said, "Okay, look. A guy named Trey invited me to this beach party. You can come along if you'd like. Or, you can stay with my folks and I'll see you later. Your choice."

"No, it's kind of your choice," he said. "I barged in on you. I'd like to go to the party, but I'll let you decide."

*****

She was going to the party, with Barry in tow. She even went back into the house to fetch another beach chair before driving off. She knew that things could get complicated. Even so, it was almost a fait accompli.

"So, who's this guy Trey?" he asked.

She kept her eyes on the road. "Oh, some guy I met. He runs an umbrella stand on the beach, just blocks from our house."

"So, are you like, seeing him?"

She knew this was coming. "Um, no, not really. I mean, we're not dating, if that's what you mean. We went surfing once. That's about it."

From the corner of her eye, she saw him nod. She knew Barry well enough to know that he sensed there was more to the story. But he didn't probe further, and she felt grateful for that.

Minutes later, she pulled up to the beach at the northern tip of the island, a secluded spot where the ocean meets Townsends Inlet. Once out of her car, she saw the flicker of lanterns through the darkness and the sound of laughter. "This has got to be the place where Trey mentioned," she said.

Moments after stepping onto the beach, she saw Trey, barefoot and wearing jeans and a red tank top, coming toward her. He greeted her with a warm hug. "Glad you could make it," he said. He gave Barry a curious stare.

"Um, Trey, this is Barry," she said nervously. "He just dropped into town. Hope you don't mind one more guest at your little shindig."

"Eh, why not?" Trey said. He looked less than enthused. Even so, he extended his hand and Barry took it.

"You run an umbrella stand, Summer told me," Barry said.

Trey nodded but didn't elaborate. He pointed to the semi-circle of chairs formed by the partiers. Summer and Barry set up their beach chairs next to them. Lera was the only one she recognized. Someone's boom box was blasting out current and classic rock hits from Wibbage FM (94.3).

Only moments after Summer and Barry sat down, Trey came over. "Summer, mind if we talk a sec? Over there?" He pointed to a spot about thirty yards away. Summer looked at Barry as if to ask permission. Reluctantly, he nodded his okay.

"Not to get personal," Trey said, "but is Barry that on-again, off-again boyfriend you alluded to?"

She knew this could get complicated; she didn't know it would come so soon. "Yeah, he is. Look, I didn't plan to bring him. Less than an hour ago, he showed up at our house. I had no idea he was coming, and because he drove three hours to get here, I couldn't just tell him to go home. My plan was to be with you." She shook her head. "So much for plans."

Trey glanced down the beach to see everybody looking at them. He could also see her blinking back tears. Placing both hands on her shoulders, he said, "And my plan was to be with you. You were my date for this thing." He brushed away a tear from her cheek and pulled her to him. "Listen, I understand why you're upset. You should also know that I'd like nothing better than to kiss you right now."

She pulled away, wiped her eyes and looked up at him. "And you should know that I'd like nothing better if you did. But under the circumstances..."

They both managed to laugh, then walked back to the group.

"Sorry," Summer said, after sitting back down next to Barry.

In a whisper, Barry said, "I'm feeling like the odd man out here. Be honest with me Summer, you're involved with this guy, aren't you? That was obvious from what I just saw."

Before she could answer, Trey raised his voice to make some introductions. "Lera, Amber, Tori, Mike, Kaz and Darren...this is Barry and Summer. They're from Maryland, guys, so make them feel welcome."

Cries of welcome rose up, and then they began talking among themselves.

Again, in a whisper, Barry repeated his question and Summer whispered back: "Like I had told you, we went surfing, and that was less than forty-eight hours ago. I had seen him at his umbrella stand for a while but we didn't actually meet until recently. So that's the extent of my involvement." Not exactly the whole truth, she knew, but she was trying her best not to hurt Barry any more than she figured he might be already. She was here to have fun, not get embroiled in more drama than necessary.

Except...

If there was ever a perfect storm for the kind of drama that Summer dreaded, it was right here, at this party, on this beach by the Atlantic Ocean and Townsends Inlet. Summer shook her head, thinking that this might be a long night. "I could use a beer," she said to Barry. "How about you?"

He nodded. "Yep, that works."

She grabbed two bottles of Blue Moon from the cooler and then returned to her seat. The others were drinking, too, including Trey. He and Summer traded knowing glances across opposite sides of the semi-circle. Barry noticed and she noticed that he noticed.

Other than that, this party of late-wave millennials was in full swing. They snacked on salads and buffalo wings, chugged their beer and sipped their wine amid raucous laughter and stories of summer adventures, grumbles about a return to the academic grind and with that concerns about a return to in-classroom learning with Covid still around.

Summer learned that these people, like Trey, were here working summer jobs. Kaz did what Trey did on another beach; he called himself the "umbrella man." Tori worked retail at a surf shop, Amber waited tables, Lera made frozen custard at Kohr Brothers, Mike and Darren worked at the same sub and pizza joint. Now that she was eighteen, Summer thought that she too might spend her summer working at the shore next year instead of helping out at her dad's two auto dealerships, something she had been doing since she was fifteen. But that was a year away. Meanwhile, there was her freshman year of college to get through and now this party, where she was trying her best to navigate through a sensitive, if not stressful situation.

The odd man out, in Summer's view, was Trey Smith, not Barry. The others were coupled up, or seemed to be. She'd have been coupled up with Trey if not for Barry showing up at her door. She could see Trey talking with Lera and Kaz, looking so hot that she had to force herself from jumping up from her seat and then "stealing" him away from the party. It would be just the two of them, buried in each other's arms on a deserted part of the beach. But maybe she could. The night was still young, and maybe she should voice her true feelings about Trey to Barry. She didn't want to hurt him, yet she owed it to him to be honest. He had even said as much.

The alcohol was weakening her inhibitions. Now was the time, she figured. Her plan: she'd drive Barry back to her parents' place, then return to the party to be with Trey.

Then Barry spoke up. "Summer, would you take a walk with me? We used to walk hand in hand on the beach a lot when I'd visit you and your family in Avalon. Remember?"

She took another swig, "Of course I remember. But that's when we were alone, not at some party, and we didn't argue as much and things were better between us and..." She stopped. She could see how sad Barry looked. She still cared about him, perhaps even still loved him. She nodded and patted his knee. "Okay, let's walk." She stood up and addressed the group. "Hey guys, we'll be back soon. Just taking a little walk."

Trey held out his arms, as if to say, 'what the fuck?' She drew him a wane, apologetic kind of look, hoping to convey that she wasn't totally onboard but felt she had to go along.

Barry led her down to the water's edge, and from there, barefoot, they trudged along in the darkness of this warm August evening. Summer didn't really want to do this, though she did appreciate the peacefulness of it, the feel and sound of the wind in her hair, the squawk of seagulls, the gentle woosh of the ocean lapping upon the shore. And she was sharing it with her first boyfriend, someone she loved. Or, at least used to love. Used to love. A tune came into her a head, a song she heard not too long ago. She remembered only a couple lines, but they seemed to fit:

"Though you're someone in this world that I'll always choose to love

From now on you're only someone that I used to love..."

What a sad song, she thought, and began to tear up. She had told him she still loved him the last time they were together. But maybe, like the song went, it was a love in the past tense, a chapter in her life that was over and done.

Barry stopped walking, then took her into his arms. "Look, I know we haven't been on the best time lately. But I still love you, damn it, and want to try like hell to make things work. We'll soon be going away to school, and I want to make things right, at least until then. Let's end this sabbatical, as you called it. Are you with me? Can you get with that kind of program?"

She kissed him on the lips and stepped back. "Oh, how I wish I could. You asked me to be honest and so I will. You're my first boyfriend. My only boyfriend, really. Part of me still loves you. But another part tells me we should part ways, make a clean break. Meeting Trey, wanting to get to know him better, told me that it was time to move on, that I wanted to move on. I'm so sorry, Barry, but that's the way I feel."

He nodded, struggling not to break down. "Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but I was hoping we could finally get it on, go all the way." He reached into the side pocket of his shorts and pulled out something wrapped in aluminum foil. "In fact, I brought along a couple of these."

She knew what it was, the condoms he sometimes kept when they were together but never got to use. "Oh, Barry," is all she could say at the moment, shaking her head.

"You're still a virgiano?" he asked, using the pet name they came to describe their sexual status.

"Yes," she chuckled, "I'm still a virgiano. Are you still a virgiano?"

He nodded. "Okay, so don't you want to finally do it? With me, I mean."

Yes, to the first question, she thought, not so much to the second. Had she not met Trey, she might try to find the privacy they needed to 'get it on,' as he put it. It's not that she no longer found him attractive. Barry stood an athletic six-feet, looked the part of the handsome jock that had first drawn her to him at that teen dance at Hidden Valley. But she saw Trey in her immediate future and besides, getting intimate with Barry would be sending him mixed signals. She really was ready to move on, to close the book on her three-year relationship and explore what potential there might be with Trey. That is, if Trey was still interested, and that could be a big IF, considering that he saw her walk away with her so-called on-again, off-again boyfriend, leaving Trey to wonder what the hell was going on.

"You know, Barry," she said, splashing her feet through the shallows, "the more I try to avoid drama with you, the more of it seems to come our way."

He stood with his hands stuffed into his pockets, watching her splash through the water. "So is that a no to my proposal?"

She stepped out of the water and then up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "It won't work, Barry. We're played out, or at least I am. I feel like I'm in a state of transition, leaving one relationship and possibly beginning a new one and then going off to college. I'm sorry you had to drive three hours to hear that. But that's the way I feel."

He shuffled his feet in the sand, nodded his head in disappointment. "A state of transition. Yeah, me too. Only unlike yours, it's not one of my own choosing. More like one I'm being forced into."

Misty-eyed, she shrugged and shook her head, sad and frustrated that she couldn't do anything to soothe Barry's pain. After all, she was part of the source. "I'm so sorry, Barry. I know how painful honesty can be sometimes."

He nodded and pursed his lips together. "Well, it is what it is, I guess. I get it. But can you drive me back to the house? I'm not exactly in the mood to party."

After they walked the quarter-mile back to the group, Summer announced that she was driving Barry back. Then, looking directly at Trey, she said, "But I'd like to come back afterward. If that's okay."

"Sure, no problem," he said. "We'll save your seat for you."

But after she picked up Barry's chair and drove him back, followed by a tear-streaked, emotional farewell talk in the car, Summer was in no mood to party either. She invited him to sleep over and return home in the morning if he liked. He declined, said he'd rather "be alone with my blues."

It wasn't until the next morning that she realized she had left her beach chair at the party. She was about to call Trey to see if he would get it, then dropped that idea. He's probably through with me, she thought; she'd get it herself. Then, when she was about to enter her car, she saw a green Dodge Charger pull up. She recognized the driver right away. It was Trey.

"You forgot this," he said, pulling the chair from his backseat.

After thanking him, she leaned the chair against her car. "Look, I'm sorry about last night. I wouldn't have been very good company after all the drama with Barry."

"That's understandable. Is he still here?"

"No, he left for home last night."

"So now he's like your what, off-again boyfriend?" Trey could see by the way she folded her arms against her chest and twisted her mouth to the side that she didn't care for his remark. She looked ticked. "I'm sorry, Summer, that was crass of me. One thing you don't need right now is drama between US."

Moved by what sounded like a sincere apology, Summer let her annoyance drain out of her. "Well, there's different kinds of drama. You're right, I could do without the kind I had with Barry. But I could sure go for another kind, the kind that I was hoping to share with you. Your friends seem nice. Kaz, Lera and the rest of them. But I'm hoping that we can be alone in the not too distant future. Like real soon, in other words, because we're leaving soon."

He reached out, caressed the smooth skin of her face, and then gave her a warm kiss. "I'd like that, too."

*****

Summer didn't want to be alone with Trey just to have sex. Yet she couldn't deny that if she was going to lose her virginity this summer—her 'virgianoness,' as she and Barry might have called it—she wanted Trey to do the honors. He didn't yet know that she hadn't gone beyond third base, nor did she see any point in telling him until or unless the situation called for it.

Trey's friends still kept him company at his umbrella stand, and Summer had become one of those friends. The girls, his "beach groupies," Summer called them, made their appearance as well. But Summer didn't care because Trey made her feel special. They swam together and sat together, often holding hands.