Woodstock Day Three
Woodstock
Day Three
I awoke to Hugh Romney’s gravelly voice booming throughout the pasture. I recognized it right away, even though his voice was nearly gone.
“Good morning,” he said. “What we have in mind is breakfast in bed for four hundred thousand. Now, it’s not gonna be steak and eggs or anything, but it’s gonna be good food, and we are gonna get it to you.
It’s not just the Hog Farm either. It’s the Ojai Mountain family and the Pranksters and everybody else that has volunteered and put in their time.
In fact, it’s everybody. We’re all feeding each other!
We must be in heaven, man! There is always a little bit of heaven in a disaster area . . . Okay, here it comes, mess call.”
If a person was still asleep, an out-of-tune reveille on the bugle made sure they were wide awake. I had to cover my ears, it was so annoying.
Just as Hugh promised, an open-bed truck with garbage cans filled with granola made its way down the two-lane pathway around the circumference of the bowl. Two Hog Farmers dipped the granola into paper cups while others handed it out to the crowd. It tasted heavenly.
The music wouldn’t start again for several hours, so Leon and I headed back to the arts and crafts fair to take another look around.
Just down Groovy Way, a dude recognized me. “Hi, Suzie,” he said, without stopping. “Really enjoyed your performance yesterday.”
“Thanks,” I said, over my shoulder.
Leon wrapped his arm around my waist with a gentle squeeze. “See. You are a star.”
Once we arrived at the fair, I picked up one of the tie-dyed halter tops, admiring it all over again. I didn’t notice Leon digging inside his pocket until he handed the girl a five-dollar bill.
I tried to stop him. “You don’t have to do that.”
“You won the bet. Never stared at a single person at the lake.”
Not true. I stared at every inch of you. “But you still don’t have to do it,” I said.
“I almost bought it for you last time we were here. Just didn’t want you to think I was a weirdo.”
“I wouldn’t have thought you were a weirdo. I would have known how sweet you are a lot earlier.” I held it up to my chest, twisting my body toward him like I was a model. “What do you think?”
“I think I love it.”
“Me too.” Standing on my tiptoes, I kissed him. He clasped the back of my head, and we just stood there, five whole minutes, making out in front of the booth.
Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be going braless, much less kissing a beautiful boy in front of so many people.
I chuckled to myself, imagining Gertie’s face if I showed up at Goldsmith’s wearing my new tie-dyed halter top with bell-bottom blue jeans hugging my hips, far below my belly button.
Truth is, Gertie would have loved it. Mama, on the other hand, would have been horrified.
Leon took my hand. “Let’s go see if the butterflies are still there.”
“Race ya,” I said and took off down the familiar path.
Once we reached the open meadow, past the tire swing, past the random green tent—the flaps were down and the zipper up—we slumped our shoulders in frustration.
Our butterflies had vanished. But we stretched out our arms and turned circles anyway, pretending the monarchs were swarming around us.
There was only one couple at the far end of the meadow, and they looked like they were asleep.
We fell onto the soft grass. This time we left no space between us, lying on our sides next to one another, our faces inches apart. Leon stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. “I can’t believe out of all the hundreds of thousands of people at this festival, I got to meet you.”
I didn’t know what to say. It was the loveliest thing anyone had ever told me.
He stared into my eyes as if he was peeking inside my soul. “Your eyes are so blue. They look like forget-me-nots.”
My breath hitched. “I love forget-me-nots,” I whispered, having never realized words could be so titillating.
“Will you forget me not?” he whispered back.
I gently shook my head. “I could never forget you.”
Entwining his fingers with mine, he raised my hand to his lips. One after the other he kissed each of my knuckles, slow and easy, as if he had a year to do it.
Sensations I didn’t know existed shot through me.
They started as ripples, then exploded into waves.
That ache between my legs spread through my body like wildfire.
I liked it but was afraid of it at the same time.
The stubble on his chin tickled as it brushed across my flesh.
He kissed my forehead. Then my nose. And both of my cheeks.
I felt his breath on my face. Breath from his beautiful face.
He kissed my ear, moving his tongue along the outside of the lobe.
He learned the inside too. It was as if he wanted to know all of me.
It made me yearn to know all of him. Softly, he placed his lips on top of mine.
That wave in my stomach crashed against my ribs.
I had to stifle an urge to gasp because his touch felt that good.
Leon rolled over on his back, pulling me along with him.
My hair spilled across his face. With my hips on top of his, I could feel how much he wanted me.
We rolled over, again and again, until we landed side by side.
His hand slipped from my neck, then inched closer to my breast. At first, I was nervous.
But remembering our tender conversations melted away my fears. He’d been understanding and kind.
I trusted him.
His lips swept across mine before he worked his way down my neck, pausing to taste every inch of my skin.
Slowly he kissed my chest, following the gold chain to where my cross hung between my breasts.
I felt him slip the first two buttons on my top through the holes.
He pulled my new bra down, exposing my bareness to the warm breeze.
My muscles tightened. I felt timid for him to see me; it was daylight.
But the gentleness in his eyes helped me to let go.
While I watched his lips move slowly across each of my breasts, learning their curves, the blush of my nipples, my heart pounded against my chest. With jittery fingers I slid the next button of my blouse through its hole.
His gaze traveled with my hands as I opened another.
As my need for him to love me exploded, I thought about what it would be like.
I’d dreamed about it for so long. Would it hurt?
If so, could I do it? Would I even know how?
More than anything I wanted my first time to be with Leon. Here in the butterfly meadow. I had fallen deeply in love. I was sure of it.
The last button was through the hole when he pulled me up straight, guiding the pink top off my shoulders.
He reached his hands behind my back, unhooking my bra.
As it fell into my lap, my bashfulness returned.
I crossed my arms over my chest, but he gently pulled them away.
My body tingled as he peered at me, like I was pretty.
Like I was Livy. “You are beautiful,” he said in a soft voice. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
I slowly shook my head.
He pulled his T-shirt over his head, then moved his lips toward mine. We reached for each other at the same time, falling back onto the grass. His bare skin against mine felt better than anything I’d ever known. I nearly suffocated in anticipation of what would come next.
I heard him unzip his pants. Then felt him unzipping mine. Visions of our lovemaking danced through my mind, until Livy’s words stalled the fantasy. You may not want a boyfriend, but you’re on the pill, right? Our pants were at our knees when I whispered, “Are you gonna use a condom?”
With a sudden urgency he rolled away from me, covering his face with his hands. My heart sank, down into the depths of the earth. I felt the pounding. Heard the pounding. I placed my hand over my chest to somehow stop it, but it wouldn’t go away.
It seemed like ten minutes passed before he asked, “You’re not on the pill?”
I shook my head against the soft grass.
“Shit,” he blurted out, in a tone I didn’t recognize. He ran his fingers through his hair, sweeping it back from his forehead. “Sorry. I got carried away.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I whispered, dying to climb on top of him again.
Instead of answering, he pulled up his shorts and stayed two feet away, while my heart continued to hammer. Bam. Bam. Bam.
Pain punctured every pore on my body as I pulled up my jeans. I may as well have been lying on a bed of nails.
Our silence stretched into lethal awkwardness.
“Are you mad or something?” I said at last.
“Mad at myself. I knew you were a virgin.”
It shamed me that he knew and now, because of it, we were lying two feet apart instead of on top of each other. “What makes you think that?”
He turned his head toward mine. A slight smile shaped his lips.
“I know I said it’s a sin in our family, but I’m not psycho about it. I don’t really think it’s a sin. I—”
“Shh.” He rolled toward me, pressing a finger to my lips.
The image of a gorgeous Shelly appeared out of nowhere. “I guess you’re not a virgin,” I said.
A long pause stretched into nowhere before he answered. “No.”
I wished for the courage to say Did you lose your virginity with Shelly? Or was it with someone else? But I couldn’t make myself say it. The words I did say were something I instantly regretted. “Couldn’t you just, you know, maybe pull out before—”
“No way. I’m not willing to take that chance. Are you?”
“No. Of course not,” I said.
Yet I was. It was crazy to think about how willing I was to take that chance—how quickly I would have compromised myself—just to be close to him. Just to feel his love. Just to have my first time be with him. Even there in that rank cow pasture with strangers close by, doing the same thing.
I had dreamed my first time would happen differently—with a husband—yet I was perfectly willing to tempt fate. Without thinking about it, much less praying about it, I had taken off my clothes at an outdoor music festival and given myself over to . . . what . . . love? Or could it have been lust?
As I lay there, with my arms covering my bare chest, a sharp pang of remorse strangled my throat.
I was disappointed, not only in what had happened but in myself.
From there the remorse snowballed into fear.
Fear that Leon still had feelings for Shelly.
Fear that I’d never see him again. Fear that I would never find anyone as cool and wonderful as Leon Wright.
As much as I tried holding them back, tears welled up in my eyes.
I could see him looking at me from the corner of my eye.
“Why are you crying?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I lied, then rolled over on my stomach to hide myself. “I guess I’m just disappointed.”
In one motion, he reached over and pulled me back on top of him. Once again, my hair spilled across his face. After sweeping it away, I folded my arms on top of his chest and buried my head. I couldn’t look at him.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he said tenderly. “Please don’t cry.”
How could you tell a boy you just met that your head was warring against your heart?
That you sincerely wanted your first time to be with him, even in a cow pasture, even though his first time was with someone else?
How could you let him know that telling him goodbye in less than twenty-four hours would rip your heart down the middle?
Perhaps he read my mind. He tapped my nose, then rolled me onto my back. “We could still have fun without birth control. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
“Show me,” I whispered, then reached up to kiss his lips.