Mark cupped my shoulders as I slowly turned my face toward him. “There’s something I have wanted to do all week, but I wanted to wait for the perfect moment,” he said in a low voice as he stared into my eyes.
My heart began to beat heavily, and I lost myself in his warm brown eyes as his face began the decent toward mine. At the last possible moment, my eyes fluttered close. I was caught off guard at the rightness of it all. It was like walking in a meadow filled with flowers or sitting in front of a fireplace on a cold winter day. The warmth of the kiss took my breath away. I felt like I had finally come home. Mark tightened his arms around me, drawing me even closer.
The feelings that welled up in me were so tender, I felt like I could weep.
I was reminded of a conversation I had with my mom when I was thirteen. I had been observing the ease that my parents had around each other for weeks. They always seemed to know what the other needed. Often, I would observe them acting like they had just fallen in love. I asked my mom why that was. She told me that the love she felt for my dad at that moment was different than the love she had felt for him in the beginning. It was stronger and much more intense. “He’s not only the man I love, but also my best friend. I love your dad more today than I ever have. Our love has evolved into something else because of the way we respect and listen to each other’s needs,” she had said.
That was how I felt in Mark’s arms. This kiss may be our first, but it felt like I had kissed him a thousand times before.
I now knew my place in the world. It was by his side. We may have just met, but we had known each other our entire lives.
When we drew apart he said, “Wow.”
I knew exactly what he was talking about; it had been a “Wow” kind of kiss.
“Let’s try that one more time,” he said, pulling me close again.
This time, I had my eyes closed before our lips met. The air around us seemed to sing. I lost myself in the kiss. My heart was racing and my skin tingled on every surface of my body.
“That was amazing,” Mark said when our lips parted.
I would have spoken, but my head was still spinning.
“We better join the others,” he said, grabbing my hand as we walked back toward the staircase.
I put my shoes back on, feeling dizzy in a drunken haze. If I knew kissing him was going to be that mind blowing, I would have forced myself on him the first day. He was right to wait though; the moment couldn’t have been more perfect. I knew I would never forget our first kiss, the way his lips had felt, the way my heart had raced, and the way the cool ocean water lapped at our feet.
We stopped on the top step when we saw Shawn and Sam sharing the same kind of intense kiss that we ourselves had just experienced.
“Should I get the hose?” Mark asked with a laugh.
They sprang apart, both looking dazed as Mark and I laughed.
Walking into the living room, we all settled on the oversized pillows that were littered around on the plush cream colored carpet.
Mark used a remote to turn the Bose stereo on, and soon music was playing from the many speakers around the room.
He turned on his laptop and booted up the internet.
We started our search by simply Googling, ‘Santa Cruz.’ The sites that popped up were typical. Town history, chamber of commerce, and other sites that would help you find more information on the inner workings of a city.
Mark clicked out of that page, and changed the search.
“Strange occurrences in Santa Cruz,” I read over his shoulder.
Mark shrugged his shoulders. “I figure we have to start somewhere.”
From this inquiry, all kinds of weird sites popped up, as the internet tried to match up the request.
Mark used the mouse to scroll down the page as we all looked for something to jump out at us.
Some of the things that popped up boarded on downright kooky. The beach was popular with leftover die hard hippies and their laid back attitudes and open use of drugs, which had caused some problems in the early eighties. Besides that, the most frequent item that popped up were the countless shark attacks over the years.
After a while, I stood up to ease my sore backside from sitting on the floor so long. Walking around the living room, I studied the formal shots of Mark as he progressed through childhood. Even as an adolescent, he had been handsome. I stopped in front of his high school graduation picture and smiled at his boyish grin as he held up his diploma.
“He looks so young in that picture,” Sam commented as she picked up the picture.
“He was, barely fifteen. I couldn’t have imagined facing college that young. I’m intimidated thinking about it next year and I’m three years older than he was.”