Cole and Ellen Do Spring Break

She started to walk off, then turned around for a parting shot. "I hope not."

Ellen was under the sheets watching "The Fugitive" when he returned. "Geeze, Cole, I was getting worried. Did you get lost?"

"Not exactly," he said, putting the bottle on ice. He was honest about telling her why it took so long to fill an ice bucket. "Look, we can search for another place if you'd like," he said, sensing her unease.

"It's not worth the hassle, not on spring break with all these no vacancy signs. What room is she staying in?"

"Don't know. With some luck, we'll all avoid each other."

"That would be nice."

Soon, they were sipping their wine and watching the program, followed by the news. By the time Johnny Carson came on, Ellen was sound asleep in Cole's arms, while Cole, eyes wide open, thought back to the girl in the white, skin-tight slacks.

**************************************

"Come out of it, Kayla," said the blond with the bouffant hairdo. "You should be happy. We're in Lauderdale on spring break, for goodness sake. It's party time."

"She's right, Kayla," said the brunette with the short, curly hair. "Tons of great looking guys down here, and you're brooding over one that doesn't deserve you anyhow."

Kayla picked at her food. She didn't have much of an appetite, not since running into Cole the night before. The three went clubbing last night. But Kayla couldn't get into it. She never finished her beer, nor did she show much interest in that handsome pre-med student from Florida State who tried talking to her. Now, late morning, she was still in a funk, sitting in Omelets, Etc., a diner type eatery situated along route A1A, just yards from the beach and ocean.

She glanced out the large window, squinting against the sun's rays, one hand under her chin, the other holding a fork, stabbing into her meal, lukewarm and half-eaten. Turning back to her friends, she said, "I still love him, I guess. Still love that two-timing SOB. Sounds crazy, I know."

Spencer-Ann, the brunette, frowned. "Are you telling us you'd take him back?"

"I don't know." Kayla said. "But that's not an option anyway, not when he's still with her." Donna, the bouffant blond who knew Ellen from Damascus High, asked Kayla what she thought possessed Cole to take up with Ellen in the first place.

"He'll tell you it's because she's smart and he can talk to her about stuff I take no interest in. I'm not DEEP enough for him. Yeah, right. The real reason, I bet, is because she puts out. I mean, the girl rarely had a date before she took up with Cole, much less a boyfriend. He's getting from her what he couldn't get from me."

"Not to defend Cole," Donna said, buttering a slice of her toast, "but I never thought of him as a user. But, who knows, you could be right."

Spencer-Ann shook her head. "A jock guy like Cole taking up with a girl solely on the basis of her intellectual depth? It doesn't add up. No, I think Kayla's right. Cole's a decent guy. But, like all guys, decent or otherwise, he thinks with his penis."

"So if you really want him back," Donna said, "you're gonna have to do what Ellen does—spread them legs, girl. Pardon my crudeness, but that's what it's gonna take."

Kayla shook her head and laughed, the first time she cracked a smile in almost twenty-four hours. "Okay, then that's what I'll do. Somehow I'll get Ellen out of the way, drag Cole into our room and let him have his way with me." She laughed some more.

Now Spencer-Ann started laughing. "Wait, wait, it'll work this way. Me and Donna will kidnap her and stuff her into the trunk of our car, blindfolded, bound and gagged, leaving you free to pursue Prince Charming."

"Then, then, with Ellen still in the trunk," Donna said, breaking up, "we'll head south and drop her off in Miami Beach."

"No, no, we'll drop her off in Key West," Spencer-Ann said, holding her stomach, her face all red, almost screaming in hysterics. "That'll give you even more time, Kayla. You could screw him dry."

Diners turned their heads, staring at these three out of control young women laughing themselves silly. They could barely answer the waitress who came over to ask if they wanted something else. "Just the check," Kayla managed to get out while bent over, banging her fist on the table.

It took a few minutes for them to calm down. "Okay, so now that you're happy again," Donna said, "let's hit the beach."

"Good idea," Kayla said, before they paid the check and headed back to The Beachcomber to change.

*****************************************

Cole tried to push Kayla out of his mind. He was in Lauderdale with a girl he loved, and they were having a great time, doing what people their age normally did during spring break—hitting the beach during the day, sometimes clubbing at night. Both liked to drink but not to the point of getting sloshed, wasted like so many of the kids here, binge drinkers who often ended up in emergency rooms. A small percentage even died each year. Cole and Kayla were lucky; they had what some called the ideal spring break vacation, the three Ss—suds, sun and sex—and not necessarily in that order. While others were on the prowl, searching for their fantasy bed mate, they were back at The Beachcomber making whoopee.

Vacation or not, Cole stuck to his training regimen. While Ellen slept, he got up early and ran as much as ten miles to keep in shape. If he didn't join the Marines, he planned to attend college, maybe get back to those two football recruiters who had expressed an interest in him. That's primarily why, on this third day in Lauderdale at seven in the morning, he was running as he normally did on a beach all but empty save for squawking seagulls and a few people out for an early morning stroll. He ran near the water's edge in green shorts, barefoot and shirtless, his straight, brown hair blowing in the wind. His skin was beginning to tan and, as tanning usually did, it brought out the best of his muscular, athletic physique. He loved the feel of wet sand under his feet and breathing in the soothing, clean salt air. He looked forward to a hearty pancake breakfast with Ellen and then more fun in the sun.

He was on his way back, less than a mile from The Beachcomber, when he saw someone he didn't expect to see: Kayla. Or was it? From close to a full football field away, it kind of looked like Kayla. Then again, it could have been another hot blond coming his way. But Kayla, like him, exercised regularly, so it was possible. She was running in the opposite direction in white shorts and a peach colored halter top, coming toward him, her long blond hair flying around her face. He laughed to himself thinking of that corny Clairol ad: "the closer he gets, the better you look...!" Then, when he closed to within fifty yards, he had little doubt it was she. He was sure she'd ignore him, would run right by him as she would a total stranger. And if she did, no problem; he'd keep on going, wouldn't say a word. When she got to within ten yards, he could see her slowing down, even smiling. Then she stopped.

"Well, well, well," she said. "We meet again. Where's your girlfriend, nursing a hangover? No, don't tell me. She's exhausted from all the sex. Am I right?"

"Still sleeping," he said, trying to ignore the sarcasm. "And your friends? Where are they?"

She laughed. "Now THEY are nursing a hangover. Or at least Spencer-Ann is. Donna's back in the room, making sure Spence doesn't puke her brains out." She looked him over, focusing her eyes on his abs and sculptured pectorals. "I must say, Cole, you look—what did you call me the other day?—boss, totally boss."

"We're the bossiest couple on the beach."

"We're not a couple anymore, remember?"

"Ah, you're right. Okay, then we're the bossiest EX-couple on the beach. How's that?"

She looked off toward the ocean and shook her head. "You know, I was doing okay until about thirty seconds ago. " She wiped her eyes. "Damn it! Why do I cry every time I see you?"

He scratched his head, looked up, shuffled his feet. He didn't know what to say. He knew what he wanted to do. "Kayla, I'm—"

"Yeah, I know, you're sorry. You're always fucking sorry. Well, so am I, sorry for..." She pulled her hair back, shook her head.

"I know, sorry for ever meeting a lousy, no good, two-timing cad like me." He smiled, hoping his self deprecation might help.

She got in his face, letting the tears roll freely down her cheeks. "Sorry for still loving you, damn it! I still fucking love you, can't you see that?!"

His discipline collapsed like a sand castle. He threw his arms around her, closed his eyes and then commenced to kiss her like he did when things were good between them, when they were known as the "sweethearts of Damascus High," when life somehow seemed a lot simpler. For a brief shining moment, he lost himself to the passion she gave in equal measure, absorbing her deep kisses, her silky hair, her lemony scent, her perfect body that so used to frustrate him because he wanted it all, not just in token parts. He still wanted it. Boy, did he want it, craved it is more like it. And, to his utter surprise, she began to act like she was willing to give it, thrusting her loins into his, then shoving her hand down his shorts and wrapping it around his cock. She never did that before. He had always been the aggressor. Now, it appeared, the tables had turned.

"You want me, Coley? Okay, you can have me. Right here on this beautiful beach under this beautiful sunrise. Take me, Coley, take me. Come on, Coley, fuck me. You know you want to."

Of course he wanted to. But was she serious? Or was she just testing him? She had to know that doing it here would land them in the slammer; not to mention the fact that there were people in proximity; not to mention the little matter of Ellen.

She looked around, taking note of the passersby. "Look, my girlfriends will get lost for a couple hours. We can have the room all to ourselves." She looked up at him, her big blue eyes almost pleading with him to say yes. Then she took his hand and shoved it down her shorts. "Bet you never thought my pussy could get this wet, did you? You're hard and I'm wet and wanting you. You, Cole Reynolds, you who used to want me so bad it turned your balls blue. Well, now you can have me."

This was torture, emotional and physical torture. He couldn't do that to Ellen. Yet how could he resist the irresistible? How does any man, especially when tempted by the Kaylas of the world? She had her hand around his cock; he had his fingers up her pussy. The sun was on the rise. Seagulls squawked. Palm trees swayed in the cool morning breeze. Waves whooshed gently upon the shore. And here he stood close to tears, trapped in the middle of a tug-of-war between his carnal desires and doing the right thing.

He stepped back and held her face in his hands. "Kayla, a part of me will love you till the day I die. And if I ever wanted any girl more than I want you at this very moment, I can't recall who. But I can't go on hurting people. It won't work. Not now. Not here."

He expected her to slap him, to unleash a fusillade of profanity at the very least. Instead, she nodded, reached up and gently touched his face. "You're a good guy, Cole Reynolds. Ellen's a lucky girl. She won't need to be kidnapped after all."

"Huh?"

"Oh, nothing. Something my silly friends made up," she said, chuckling. She pulled him toward her and then kissed him, as loving and tender a kiss as he'd ever received from anyone. "I'll see you around, okay? You take care." She started to jog up the beach, then turned around. "But if you ever change your mind..." He smiled and nodded, waited until she was out of sight and then started back toward The Beachcomber.

**************************************

Upon his return, he expected to see Ellen sound asleep, or perhaps watching the "Today" show. However, when he opened the door, the TV was off and she was sitting straight up on a white wicker chair, her arms crossed stiffly over her chest, dressed in jeans, halter top and blue Keds. "You're up early," he said. He could see she'd been crying, and he could see she looked mad.

"Yes, I am up early. Too early for my own good. How was your run?"

He grabbed a towel, draped it over his shoulders and sat on the edge of the bed. "Great. I love running on the beach. Seconds passed, tense and silent. "Okay, I give up. What's going on?"

She shook her head. "You tell me. I get up early and walk down to the beach, hoping I can catch you at the tail end of your run, hoping to surprise you, thinking we can walk together along the shore, watching the sunrise. But the surprise is on me, because there you are, getting all loving and indecent on a public beach with another woman, a one, Kayla Ranucci."

He looked down, took a deep breath and shook his head. Then he told her what happened, from the time they met until she jogged off into the sunrise. "So that's the story. I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Yeah, me too. Well, what goes around comes around, right? I mean, Kayla was on the receiving end at homecoming, and now it's my turn, I suppose."

"It's not like that, Ellen," he said, meekly. "I love you, not her."

"You could have fooled me, what with the way you were holding her and kissing her, doing everything but screwing her. And I'm sure you'd have done that too had it been nighttime."

"Not true," he said, though he knew it could be.

"Look, Cole, at least admit that you still have feelings for her, if not emotionally than at least in the way that your cock understands best. Kayla's very pretty. She's a hot number, I get that."

"You're a hot number, too, El. And as far as my cock, yes, it's got a mind of its own. But it takes directions from up here," he said, pointing to his brain. "I control IT, IT doesn't control me." This was another partial truth that he'd let stand. He kneeled down and took her hands in his. Look, it's still early. Let's take that walk you talked about. Then we can have ourselves a nice breakfast, lie on the beach or around the pool for awhile, and then make love all afternoon." He looked down between his legs. "You hear that cock? I'm calling you to duty. That is, if my sexy girlfriend here will take me back into her good graces."

She wiped her tears, reached out and hugged him. "You're too damn good looking for your own good, you know that? I'm surprised that Kayla's the ONLY chick who's tried to hit on you down here."

He stood up and pulled her into his arms. They kissed for awhile before he washed up, threw on a T-shirt and stepped into his Jack Purcell sneakers. Then, hand in hand, they headed for the beach.

******************************************

On the morning it was time to leave, Ellen stood on The Beachcomber parking lot, helping Cole load up the GTO. Across the lot, she saw Kayla loading up the trunk of her dad's big blue '63 Chevy Impala. Kayla caught Ellen's stare and stared back—a cold if not downright hostile stare is the way Ellen read it. Ellen wanted the break the ice, thought some type of peace offering was in order. She, unlike Kayla, harbored no hard feelings. Moreover, she'd be seeing her in class when they got back. So why not try to ease the tension? They didn't need to be enemies just because they weren't friends.

Kayla crossed her arms against her chest as Ellen approached, appeared anything but welcoming. "Yes, can I help you?"

"I just wanted to say that I hope you and your friends had a good time," Ellen said.

Kayla stood stiff and rigid in the same tight white slacks she wore when she bumped into Cole at the ice machine. "It's spring break. Why wouldn't we?"

Ellen threw her hands on her hips. "Look, Kayla, I know what you must think of me. I'd feel the same way if things were reversed."

"Would you now. Thanks, I'm touched. Anything else?"

"No, nothing else. Sorry I bothered you."

Ellen began to walk away when Kayla stepped forward. "Wait. Look, I'm sorry. It's all water under the bridge. What happened, happened, what always happens when two girls are in love with the same guy. One of them gets hurt. I had my turn with Cole, now it's your turn. Like I told him, you're a lucky girl."

"You told him that? When?"

"A few days ago when I saw him running on the beach and we, well, I'll spare you the gory details."

"It's okay. I saw you and Cole on the beach that morning, gory details and all. You two put on quite a show." Ellen proceeded to tell Kayla how that came to be.

"Jesus, Ellen," Kayla said sympathetically, holding her head in her hands, "you must have been foaming at the mouth."

"That, and thinking of ways to kill him. Now I know how you felt at homecoming."They both laughed.

Kayla embraced her. "See you back at school. And tell Cole to drive safe. Sometimes he acts like he's A.J. Foyt behind the wheel."

"Yes, I know."

They hugged before Ellen walked back to the car, thinking how right Kayla was. Ellen Goldfarb was indeed a lucky girl.