(song: "Under Your Spell" - Desire)

The week dragged by slowly.

     Each of those days I saw Patrick during lunchtime, and at the end of every school day he'd walk me to my car. He offered to start driving me to school, but that felt too official to me, and I still had concerns over if I wanted to call Patrick my boyfriend or not.

     I'd been with Chuck for a whole year. I wasn't ready to call another guy my boyfriend yet. I told myself that we were just exploring things; feeling them out to see if we fit.

     Saturday morning, around six A.M. I had packed my things and went into the dining room to sort out the bills. The ones I knew we had to make sure were paid; rent, electric, water and car notes.

     "You're not going to work?" My father was awake. He looked very rough and still hungover from drinking the previous night. Seeing the bills on the table made his face look even more pale than it already was.

     "No, I'm going to Santa Monica with Selena for the weekend." Not a complete lie, I just left out the details about Patrick. "I'll make up for the hours, don't worry."

     "Feels like you're never home anymore. I know you're going to be turning eighteen soon and be an adult and all, but we should make time and do something. You just grew up so fast." My father's eyes seemed apologetic for wasted time.

     Those eyes used to trick me. In his moments of sobriety he would make all kinds of promises.

     Drunks were the best liars.

     They will say the words you want to hear, but never back them up with actions. In the end, the hand shakes start and the bottle always wins. Since my father was a non-violent drunk, I used to believe his words during these sort of times. After many broken hopes and dreams, I'd learned the best thing to do was verbally agree, but mentally expect nothing.

     "Sure, dad," I said. I walked over to him and kissed his cheek. "I love you, I've got to go."

     He looked at me and tried to find words to say. Part of me wished he'd find those words, but instead he bowed down his chin and retreated back to his comfort-zone in front of the televisions hypnotic glow.

     I reached for the door and only then did he say, "Call me when you get to Santa Monica so I know you made it safely."

     It wasn't at all what I wanted to hear, but it was enough.

     "I will, bye daddy."

I rode with Selena in her car. Her expression looked so relaxed and at ease. Her phone was buzzing like crazy. She wasn't gripping at it to give Jon a million-and-one explanations about why she was going to Santa Monica.

     My curiosity was killing me. "Okay, your phone has been buzzing with Jon's calls and you haven't answered them."

     Selena ran her fingers through her hair and had an easy smile on her lips. "I really didn't like the way Jon spoke about you. We fought about it all week. I told him that we needed to take a break."

     "Cute, no one takes breaks, Selena. That's as good as broken up." I informed her with my own sweet smile. I was really happy about it too.

     She bit her lower lip a little as her mind tried to work out reasons I wouldn't yell at her about. "Yeah, but it's like kicking someone out, but leaving the door unlocked in case you change your mind and work it out."

     "You can't work it out when the problem is that you've outgrown him. It happens. Your first love isn't meant to be the guy you marry, just some guy you make a lot of mistakes with." I told her cheekily.

     I knew this for a fact. My first love was my next door neighbor, a crazy guitarist-boy who I'd given my virginity to. It was a messy disaster of a relationship that lasted no more than three-weeks. I was glad when he moved and only became a memory.

     I couldn't imagine if I'd clung to him the way Selena clung to Jon.

     We pulled into the driveway and immediately I could see a large black suburban being stuffed with coolers, towels and various other beach accessories. Easton and Patrick were talking with two other girls and one boy who was there. I didn't recognize them from school so I assumed these were the friends from out of town that Patrick was referring to.

     "Hey, everyone, this is Jenn and Selena." Patrick was the first to rush on the introductions. "Jenn and Selena, this is Marcus, India and Summer. They're from Santa Monica."

     Marcus was a tall boy who looked very preppy and fit. He probably was the Patrick Henry of his high school back in Santa Monica. India looked small and petite. I really wanted to ask her why her parents named her India, but I didn't want her to think I was being offensive. I knew Summer was from California without even thinking about it. Everything from her fashion sense to her balayage blonde-to-soft-pink hair color screamed Los Angeles. All three of them seemed expensive.

     Selena and I looked so very different from Patrick's friends. I dressed like a band groupie in torn shorts and a cut off Jack Daniel's whiskey tee. Selena, on the other hand, looked like the girl next door in her on-sale lavender top from target and white shorts.

     We all exchanged awkward hellos.

     "We have about four hours of driving if we want to enjoy the beach before sundown we should go," Marcus said.

     Everyone started to pile into the car—everyone except me.

     I grabbed hold of Patrick's arm before he could climb into the suburban. "Patrick, I thought we were taking separate cars. That's too many people in one vehicle for me."

     "It'll be fine, it's a suburban, it can seat eight people." Patrick hoped that would make me feel assured, but it didn't.

     "Patrick, I can't ride with that many people in a car. People that are talking and laughing and distracting the driver." I could tell from his confused expression that he wasn't going to understand me unless I explained everything.

     I lowered my voice for a little more privacy. "I really, really didn't want to bring this up right now, but I was in a car accident, okay? I get panic attacks when there's too much happening inside a vehicle. It has taken me a lot of work just to be able to feel comfortable in a car."

     Patrick's face started to show signs of him getting the picture. He cleared his throat and called out to the others. "I'm feeling really selfish today and want Jenn all to myself, so I'm going to follow behind you guys with my car!"

     Selena rolled down a window and called out. "See you two in Santa Monica!" She already knew I how I felt about crowded cars.

     Patrick and I slipped into his sports car and started to follow the loud suburban filled with teens.

     I knew my anxiety made no sense, no rational sense anyway.

     I knew a sports car was not safer than the super-tank-suburban, but that's the nature of trauma. You can't control exactly what is a trigger and what isn't.

     I covered my face with my fingers and sighed into them for being such a difficult person. "Sorry for messing up this trip before it even gets started."

     Patrick watched the road carefully. He seemed oddly serious. "I was thinking back over every time we've been out. I've told you so much about my family, my dad's practice and about colleges. I've introduced you to my friends. I really like you, Jenn. I've really tried to be open with you, but I realized that I really don't know much about you. You're like a mystery."

     It was true. Chuck had been a horrible boyfriend, but because I saw him as worse-off than myself it made me comfortable telling him about all my flaws. Patrick, on the other hand, was so wonderful that I didn't want to just seem like a pile of dirty laundry compared to him.

     "Give me time, Patrick. I'm not ready to tell you everything. Can't we just try and focus on having a good time in Santa Monica today instead?"

     His tense shoulders eased and and he gave me a small little nod of acceptance. "Okay. We'll save the serious stuff for later." 

     Patrick's usual disposition was starting to come back, I could see it in his eyes. "On a scale of one-to-ten, what would you say are Easton's chances of getting a date with Selena?"

     "A two," I answered honestly while slipping on a pair of large sunglasses. "Selena has only been with one guy her whole life. Her and Jon have been pretty much together since they were five. Even if she likes Easton she'd never admit it to herself or actually like, date him."

     "If his chances are a two-out-of-ten, then his odds with Selena are better than ours were." Patrick briefly glanced at me to deliver one of his sexy half-smiles.

     I couldn't argue with that.

     For the next four hours Patrick joked with me, laughed with me and shared with me more details about his life. I learned his first pet was a lizard he found outside and he kept it a secret from his mother. When the lizard escaped it frightened his mother so bad she climbed onto the table.

     It amazed me how everything just seemed to come so easy for Patrick and so difficult for myself.

     I'd never really wanted to be a better person before, but he made me feel like I could be.

     Patrick drove us under the large Santa Monica welcoming sign. Ahead I could see the Ferris wheel and beautiful blue Californian waters. Tourists were everywhere. There was something invigorating and mystical in the feeling of the place.

     "Welcome to Santa Monica, Jenn!" He said excitedly.

     My inability to open made me start thinking about what Chuck had said to me about 'Good things don't last long for people like us'.

     "Welcome to Santa Monica, Patrick," I tossed back with just as much enthusiasm as he had.

     It may have been selfish, but I didn't want Patrick to know the events of that day six years ago. If only I'd had an intuition that in Santa Monica he'd learn the truth.