PS. I'm not ovulating, I should be okay.
In the summer of '91, sitting on the bleachers, cold and wet, I couldn't be more wrong. I was figuring a way to sever my ties with Shannie. There was one problem: Shannie and I could not be apart. The following weekend, I found myself in Shannie's passenger seat racing towards Atlantic City.
Boats of all shapes and sizes floated up and down the Intracoastal Waterway as Shannie parked along side of Genise's apartment. A strong breeze danced over the back bay. Cries of seagulls welcomed us. Shannie and I locked eyes before I motioned for her to lead the way. I admired her French braid as we climbed the steps. It was sexy; she was sexy.
"Hey girl." Genise said opening the screen door. "I see your friend decided to tag along."
Here we go, I thought. I focused on looking into her eyes. It was an act of self-control, considering Genise's cleavage was bound by a leopard skin bikini top. She wiggled and jiggled across the weekend. I knew she was screwing with me. I kept quiet and tried to keep my chin up.
"Hi James," Genise extended her hand.
"Hi." I enjoyed the feel of Genise's hand in mine.
That's how my weekend of sexual tension began. Imagine my torture: being in the company of two beauties and not being able to do anything about it. To escape I parked my ass on the sea wall across the street from Genise's apartment. On one of these occasions, the lady with the dog came walking by.
I jumped off the wall and asked if I could pet her dog.
"Mr. Beau, Stop it." Her dog was licking my face.
"It's cool. What is he?" I rubbed behind his ears.
"Golden Retriever."
Shannie has her 'friend', Lucas has his sisters; I'll get myself a dog. For the first time in months, life was worth living.
"Whatever you do, don't get a pure-bread. They're insane. All that inbreeding and shit. You're better off with mutt," Genise told that night.
Good advice from a half-breed, I thought flipping through the photos on Genise's kitchen table. I didn't want to be busted eyeing her tits. Eventually, I learned to wear sunglasses - then I could check her out with impunity.
***
"I'm worried about you," Shannie said.
"Me?"
Shannie turned off the radio. She took a deep breath, keeping an eye on road. "You're having a hard time. I think you need help."