3. lovers

I remember that summer, all too well.
Do you?
It was hot. We were restless.
I think it was the hottest day of the year 1978, the first day of August. The sun was burning down, the seagulls were crying out and the sea was roaring loudly.
Your hand was lying on my stomach, slowly drawing circles around my belly button. I loved that feeling. And when your hand somehow began to slide up, touching the edges of my shirt, I opened my eyes.
Your hand left my belly, grabbing my hand and pulling me up. Without grabbing the towel, we had lain on, you dragged me across the white sand. We were laughing, and my skin prickled.
Your black Jeep stood behind some trees, right beside the beach. The car had been a gift from your father for your seventeenth birthday.
You opened the door and pushed me gently through it. I had never felt that excited before. And it was not as if we had not done it before. 
„What are you doing? “ I had asked, exactly knowing what you intended to do. 
Your hands finally slipped under my shirt, pulling it up. Kissing every part of my skin, while you pressed me down onto the leather fabric of the back seats. Your hand slipped down, down, down touching the birthmark on the backside of my knee.
And then you had pressed yourself between me, pulling up the small skirt I was wearing that day – a pink tennis skirt, although I have never played tennis before in my life. 
I remember how your gentle strokes became harder, pressing deeper into me. And when we finally did what teenagers giggle about and adults exchange glances over, I knew I would never love someone as I loved you. 
But that is the thing with teenage love. You are so deep, tragic, and infinitely in love, that you cannot imagine a life without it. And somehow, this is understandable, because you have never been in love before that. And doesn’t everything seem like forever, when you know nothing else? 
Afterward, we stayed in your Jeep. Your arm around me, my head on the small space between your chest and shoulder. I fit in perfectly. And together we fit perfectly into the slim space of your Jeep’s back seats. I knew we were made for each other. 
I took your hand in mine, and when our fingers intertwined, I said „I don’t want to leave you.“
You turned your face and looked through deep brown eyes into mine.
„Then stay.“
„You know, I can’t.“ I bit my lip. I always loved the few summer weeks I spent with my family at the beach house on the other side of the country, but not this time. And soon, I would learn to hate it. „So, it would mean the world to me, if you could come tomorrow… please? Would you?“