the helmet.
As we rode out of the parking lot, I still remember the burst of pride that leapt from my chest as a group of the popular kids, Debbie Turner among them, turned to stare at us. My arms were wrapped around Caleb’s waist, his body heat radiating from him. It was the first time we had ever touched, and being so close to him made me feel kind of dizzy.
I kept taking surreptitious little whiffs of his skin as we rode. He smelled like soap, and man . My previous experience with boys was limited to a seventh-grade fling with a boy named Scotty, who I used to hold hands with before school and whom I only ever let kiss me once before breaking up with him. As I sat behind Caleb, I wondered if he’d be able to tell how inexperienced I was if he kissed me. Then I silently berated myself for even letting myself think about the possibility that he would want to kiss me.
I spent the first fifteen minutes working myself up into a frenzy of nerves. Eventually, though, the beauty of the scenery whizzing by us began to force the panicked thoughts from my head.
As we rode past canyons and ravines, the wind rushing past, I found my body loosening up, becoming accustomed to the movements and speed of the bike. My legs were pressed around Caleb’s, and the flex of his thigh muscles as he changed gears or put on the brake made me grow hot and wet between my legs. It felt as though my whole body was crackling with energy. Every nerve ending felt like it was standing at attention, all of my senses on high alert.
I had never felt so truly alive before. It was absolutely exhilarating.
Eventually, the bike slowed, and Caleb turned in the direction of a large sign that read “Piñon Valley Hot Springs.”
I had heard about the place, but had never been here before. My mother wasn’t exactly the type to take us on family outings. We bumped along a gravel road until we came to a group of parked cars, and he angled the bike in and shut it off. He motioned for me to get down, and I scrambled into a standing position awkwardly.
Caleb flipped down the kickstand and got off the bike. “It’s too bad we don’t have swimsuits,” he said to me, “but there’s lots of stuff to see hiking around.”
My face grew hot at the idea of Caleb seeing me in a bathing suit, and I heaved an inner sigh of relief that he hadn’t suggested bringing them.
I took off the helmet and handed it to him, then looked around. There were families splashing around in the springs, steam and spray rising from them. A smattering of young couples, a few of whom I vaguely recognized, lounged about on the rocks. The surface of the water bubbled. There was a faint smell of burning matches.
“It smells like sulfur,” I said in surprise. In spite of myself, I broke into a wide grin. “This is so cool! How have I never come here before?”
“I dunno, you tell me.” He nodded toward the springs. “Come on, there’s a place over here I want to show you.”
And then, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, he took my hand.
I’m not sure I had ever been so surprised by anything in my life.
As Caleb led me up a path to one side of the springs, I tried not to stumble, and hoped he couldn’t hear the crazy pounding of my heart in my chest. Everything seemed to suddenly fall away except for the feeling of my small hand in his large, strong one. The contact of our skin seemed electric.
I wondered if my hand would ever feel the same again.
Caleb stopped at a clearing with a view of the valley below, and evergreens extending upward to the top of a small hill. There was a bunch of stones that had been moved into a sort of low bench, and we sat down on it, my hand still in his. For a while, we just sat there, looking at it all.
For as nervous as I had been before, a strange sort of calm came over me now. It was all just so beautiful. I wanted time to stop.
But for two eighteen year-olds, time seems a warped thing — at once frozen stuck, and on