Page 36 of Love Story
“Exactly.”
They laughed until they arrived at his home. He held her hand as the two of them walked inside. “I’ll get you water.” Definitely water. The Wesleys didn’t keep beer in the house. Except... The week before, one of the Wesleys’ friends had joined them for a cookout and brought a six-pack. As far as John knew, four of the beers were still in the fridge.
Not a good idea,he told himself. Besides, Elizabeth was underage. He wouldn’t consider giving her something to drink. He poured her a glass of water and then opened the refrigerator. A pop, maybe. Coca-Cola or a root beer. Something to keep him busy while they sat together. So he wouldn’t think about how very alone they were.
But when he opened the door, when he looked at the drinks on the second shelf, the only one that looked good was the Budweiser. He hesitated. He could have one. Elizabeth wouldn’t mind. Kids at U of M drank, after all. It wasn’t like she’d judge him for it. He grabbed a can and walked back to the living room.
Elizabeth was sorting through the music. She looked up when she heard him and glanced at his drink. “Beer?”
“Just one.” He handed her the water and raised the can in her direction. His grin kept the situation light. “I’m old enough, you know.”
She seemed to process that. “True.” She laughed. “I keep forgetting how old you are.”
“How old?”He mouthed the words. They both laughed. John pulled the tab on the beer and joined her near the shelf of eight-track albums in the corner of the room. He took a swig. The pungent liquid hit the spot. The day at the lake had made him thirstier than he had known. “What do you want to hear?”
Elizabeth looked through the choices. “Hmmm... Here!” She pulled out the Beatles. “You haveSgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club? I listened to it the other day at Betsy’s house.”
“Sure.” He chuckled. “Looks like we’re playing that one.”
They sat next to each other on the sofa and for forty minutes they talked about their peers at school and laughed at some of the university’s more difficult professors and listened to the Beatles. John wasn’t really paying attention, but one beer led to another, and then a third. He drank on occasion, but not every weekend the way some of his friends did. By the time he started his fourth, John was feeling it.
“Be careful.” Elizabeth’s laugh faded as he began to drink it. “You’ll get sick.”
“I’m fine.” He smiled at her and set the beer down. The album was over, so he walked back to the corner of the room. “This one’s my choice.”
The buzz was coming on, warming his core and blurring the edges. He flipped through the music until he found the right one. Exactly what he was looking for.Billboard Top Pop Hits: 1967. “This.” He held it up and grinned at her. “You’ll love it.”
“It reminds me of our first night.” She tipped her head back as she laughed. “I’ll never forget you teaching me how to dance.”
Like a magnet to steel, John returned to her. He took his beer, finished it off and set down the empty can. Then he held out his hand. “Miss...”
She giggled as she took his fingers. “What are we doing?”
“Practicing.” He helped her to her feet. “Ready? This one’s a swing.” He slid the sofa and chair back to give them room. And like that they were twirling around the living room. Elizabeth was a natural. She could’ve added dancer to her long list of career possibilities.
The next song had something close to a jitterbug beat, and by the time it was over, they were both out of breath, laughing and ready for a rest. “I’ll get you more water.”
“John...” She steadied herself, brushing a few strands of hair back from her forehead. “I should go. I’m already late.”
He leaned on the wall so he wouldn’t look wobbly. The beer was hitting him hard. Giving him permission to kiss her the way he couldn’t do if he was sober. His smile came easily. “Just a little longer.” He went to the kitchen, and this time he poured water for both of them. Enough beer. As he handed her the glass he clinked his against hers. “As soon as we finish the album.”
The next song was midtempo. John raised his eyebrows. “ ‘The Twist.’ Come on!” They set their waters down.
“I should go. It’s getting dark out.” Elizabeth’s words didn’t match the light in her eyes.
“You’ll be fine.” He thought about turning on the living room lights, but it was better this way. The night sky giving them their own personal dance hall. Music filled the room and they twisted until John’s dizziness sent him straight into her arms. “I twist betterwithyou.”
“John... are you drunk?” She laughed again, but didn’t seem worried.
“On you.” He worked to keep from slurring his words. The song was ending, which was a good thing. John didn’t feel like twisting. The next track was the reason he had picked the album. The first notes and Elizabeth’s eyes found his.
“ ‘Never My Love.’ ”
The air between them changed. The laughter faded, and in its place came a passion that—if they were honest—had been there all along. Just beneath the surface. John held her so their bodies were slightly closer than before.
When the lyrics began he sang them straight to her, like the music had been written for them alone. “You asked me if there’d come a time... when I’d grow tired of you. Never my love.”
She began to sing, too.
