The Education of Sebastian (28 page)

“Can I help you with that?”

Sebastian’s soft voice made me jump. He was wearing a fresh white T-shirt and colorful boardshorts, with a pair of wrap-around sunglasses pushed up onto his short hair. He’d also shaved. I felt dizzy just seeing him, but quickly dropped my eyes.

“Oh, thank you!” I managed to mutter.

He grinned at me and took the box from my nerveless hands, following the convoy of Donna’s sons, Bill and Mitch. I picked up the polenta cake, still untouched from last night, and gingerly joined the line.

“I really liked your article, Mrs. Wilson.”

I turned around to see Fido smiling at me. I was surprised; I’d never heard him speak before.

“Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it: and please, it’s Caroline.”

Sebastian must have overheard because he turned around and frowned, throwing an angry look at Fido. Fido merely grinned back and insisted on carrying the polenta cake. I tried to keep my smile bright, but inside I was dying: wasn’t this day going to be hard enough without worrying about whether or not Sebastian would be jealous of anyone who spoke to me?

I didn’t think it was a coincidence that Sebastian chose that moment to pull off his T-shirt, flaunting his golden skin, baring his chest, naked in the sunshine. He knew I wouldn’t be able to stop myself having a quick ogle. Of course the other men immediately followed suit and I was soon surrounded by a surfeit of taut, tanned and toned flesh. I pulled my sunglasses over my eyes and tried to think cooling thoughts.

We settled in a loose group around our fire pit, Sebastian securing a spot opposite me, but every time I stood up to get some more of the food, or pass something around, he’d stand up, too, and ‘help’. Then he’d brush up against me: seemingly innocent little touches. Each time my skin blazed with need and I wanted to yell at him to stop – or to not stop but do something about the heat that was rising within me. Somehow I managed to follow a conversation with Shirley about her idea to keep chickens as a way of making some extra cash. I knew nothing about poultry so it was a fairly one-sided discussion.

Bill and Mitch kept up a friendly banter of profanities as they proceeded to char vast quantities of meat. I resolved to stick to cold cuts and salad as I helped to lay out the rest of the provisions.

Several Marines from Mitch and Bill’s unit wandered over to pass the time and help reduce the mountain of food. All the men were eating like their lives depended on it, and my concern that there was too much quickly vanished.

Donna introduced me to all the visitors and I could read surprise on the faces of several when she explained I was the wife of Lieutenant Commander Wilson. Clearly, David’s reputation had gone before.

Kurt and Stefan regaled us with tales of college life, each trying to outdo the other. They were attractive, intelligent young men, good company and entertaining. Stefan was following in his father’s footsteps and studying medicine at UCLA; Kurt had chosen civil engineering and went to school at McCormick in Chicago. Unfortunately, the brothers seemed to have a well developed rivalry which, on this occasion, they were using to take turns flirting with me. It was beyond embarrassing, particularly as I could see Sebastian’s murderous looks from across the fire pit, and Ches’s amused expression. Fido just stared at me, which was more than a little unnerving.

During the course of the afternoon, Sebastian became quieter and quieter and I sensed that his temper was beginning to fray. Worse still, Fido’s dog-like devotion to me was also becoming more apparent. Every time I reached for something, he leapt up to hand it to me. I had never been so popular: and it had never been less well timed.

I couldn’t help wondering if all the sex I’d been having was giving off some sort of invisible signal; some sort of scent, a pheromone, perhaps. Could that happen? I’d never previously been in a position to need to ask the question.

As unobtrusively as I was able, I stood up, determined to slink away by myself for a while.

“Are you okay, Caroline?” asked Donna.

I cringed as every eye focused on me.

“Oh, I’m just going to go and get some shots of the volleyball game and sandcastle competition,” I said lightly.

“I’ll come with you,” said Sebastian immediately.

“No, no! I’m fine. Stay and enjoy yourself,” I said, just one shade too forcefully.

His eyes darkened with anger and he slumped back to the sand, a surly expression on his face.

Honestly! Did he
want
to make it so obvious?

I hurried off to take some photographs, including the ghastly pie-eating competition. Even though I ached for Sebastian’s company, there were too many eyes everywhere. I returned half an hour later, when my blood pressure had returned to normal, and avoided meeting his too ardent gaze. But I did see Donna raise her eyebrows and smile. The woman was just too damned observant. It made me nervous.

Ches was interested in my old SLR so I showed him how to change the focus and how to read the built-in light meter. I let him take a few snaps of our group. Bill, of course, bombed the photograph, scooping me up into a huge hug, which earned him a furious look from Sebastian, of course. Then Ches insisted on taking one of me. I didn’t mind: it wasn’t like I’d have to look at it – all the photographs would be developed at City Beat.

“I had an old SLR once,” said Bill. “I wonder what happened to it: I used to love taking photographs.”

“First I’ve heard of it,” said Mitch, raising his eyebrows.

“Hey! I do have one or two secrets, buddy!” replied Bill, raising a bottle of beer in salute. “So, what else do you like taking photographs of, Caroline?”

“You mean other than pictures of fine figures of men like you, Bill?” laughed Shirley.

“Too right!” said Bill, flexing his biceps. “You want to take some photos of me, Caroline?
Private
photographs? Anytime, honey – but you’ll need a long lens!”

I laughed, trying to seem as if I was enjoying the joke. It was kind of hard when Sebastian looked like was about to punch Bill.

“I do like taking photographs of people,” I said, trying to change the direction of the embarrassing conversation, “but when they’re not aware I’m watching – just candids of people carrying on with their lives. I’m not into landscapes that much: I always admired people like Robert Capa and Cartier-Bresson and…”

“Oh, I love it when you talk French to me, Caroline!” said Bill, winking at me.

This was getting beyond embarrassing.

Ches’s head was swiveling between Bill and Sebastian as if he was watching some sort of tennis match.

I saw Shirley throw Bill a warning look. His only reply was to smirk at her and take another swig of beer.

I wondered if he was deliberately trying to wind up Sebastian. Heaven forbid, but it seemed to be some sort of open secret that Sebastian liked me. It was obvious from the way that everyone’s eyes were drawn to him when I became the subject of conversation that they knew
something.
Thankfully no one had guessed that his feelings were more than reciprocated.

I wanted to shake him or send him for acting lessons or something that made it less damn obvious how he felt about me.

Not only did it make me anxious, but it made me question how successful my own attempts were to act like I didn’t notice him, or didn’t give a damn. The whole thing was giving me a headache and I longed for the picnic to be over. It really wasn’t living up to its billing of a ‘fun day’.

I began to have quite violent thoughts towards Donna: I wished more than anything that I hadn’t accepted her misplaced kindness and instead gotten here in my own car.

The mountain of food continued to diminish and Donna was just encouraging me to serve up the lemon polenta cake when I became aware that the eyes of every male in our group had swung to a spot just behind my right shoulder.

“Hi, everyone,” said a female voice.

“Hi, Brenda,” said Ches, his tone friendly but cautious.

I saw him glance at Sebastian.

Oh. The ex-girlfriend
.

Brenda Wiseman was undeniably lovely: a perfect, willowy figure, super-straight blonde hair that she flicked restlessly over her shoulders, pale blue eyes and the smallest bikini I’d ever seen outside of a men’s magazine. Irritatingly, she certainly had the figure to wear it to its best advantage.

While everyone stared at Brenda, Bill’s eyes about popping out of his head and Donna’s lips pursed in apparent distaste, I saw Sebastian glance nervously towards me. I dropped my eyes to the polenta cake and continued to cut it, gripping the handle of the cake slice tightly. It was bad timing on Brenda’s part that I happened to have a weapon too conveniently at hand.

“Hi, Sebastian,” she said.

“Hi.”

His reply was short and unenthusiastic.

I couldn’t help wondering if that was solely for my benefit.

She hesitated for a moment, as if waiting for an invitation. When none was forthcoming, she sat down next to him anyway, stretching out her long tan legs and leaning back on her hands.

“I haven’t seen you since graduation.”

Sebastian stared at the sand. It was clear he had no clue how to handle this.

It was quite funny – if you weren’t me.

“Where have you been hanging?” she persisted, her voice unnaturally cheery.

I wondered if she’d been rehearsing.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Ches said you guys had got jobs out at the country club,” she prompted him.

Sebastian glared at Ches who guiltily shrugged his shoulders.

“So, what do you do there?”

“Lifeguarding,” replied Ches quickly, “and some waiting on tables when they’re short-staffed.”

“Cool!” said Brenda, flicking her hair over her shoulders
again
.

I wanted to leap across the barbeque pit and make her eat sand.

The men looked amused as Sebastian became increasingly and obviously uncomfortable, his cheeks reddening with each awkward second. Shirley and Donna looked sympathetic and politely tried to maintain a separate conversation. I hated to think what expression was leaking out onto my face.

“Hey, you cut your hair,” said Brenda, reaching out to run one hand across the nape of his neck.

I wanted to snap her fingers off at the wrist.

Sebastian flinched away from her and looked annoyed. I hoped that Brenda would take the hint but she hadn’t deployed her primary weapons yet.

“Well, it suits you,” she said, hitching up her bikini top.

I could have sworn her tits had magnets attached to them the way the men’s eyes seemed to be drawn towards her impressive cleavage. Even Sebastian’s.

“Although I always liked your hair long; but then you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“I cut my hair, too,” said Ches in a farcical attempt to protect his friend from Brenda’s relentless onslaught.

She glanced at him with humiliating brevity.

“Nice.”

“Have you decided where you’re going to school in the Fall?” said Stefan, trying to attract her attention.

“I’ve been accepted at UCLA – and UCSD,” she said, her eyes fixed on Sebastian.

“You should go to UCLA,” said Stefan. “It’s a really great school. What’s your major?”

But she completely ignored him and he crashed in flames, much to his brother’s amusement. Brenda drew up her knees and nudged Sebastian’s arm with her thigh.

“Can we talk?” she said softly.

“I thought you’d be
talking
to Jack,” he said, coolly.

She blushed.

“Please, Sebastian? In private.”

The sudden timidity in her voice made me look up. She was staring at Sebastian, a worried little pucker between her eyebrows. I had to hand it to her: she was good. And she had guts. She was making a very public statement that she still had feelings for him. In fact, speaking from recent experience, I’d say she was crazy about him.

The burn of jealousy in my throat got worse, running all the way down to my gut. She was gorgeous, sweet, rather brave,
extremely
determined, and had her eyes on the prize. Oh, and they were the same age. She was perfect for him; she was the sort of girl he ought to be with – assuming she wasn’t really the man-eating tramp she seemed to be channeling.

It was unfair of me to hold onto him; it was wrong.

I felt my eyes began to fill with tears; I hoped I was near enough to the smoking barbeque pit to have a believable excuse.

I waited for Sebastian to tell her there was nothing to talk about.

Except he didn’t.

He pushed himself to his feet in one graceful move.

“Okay,” he muttered.

I don’t know if he looked at me, because my gaze was locked on that damn cake: I’d never be able to eat lemon polenta ever again.

“She’s a nice girl,” said Shirley sympathetically, as Brenda walked away with Sebastian. “I was so surprised when they broke up.” She glanced at Ches, who wouldn’t meet his mother’s eyes, “I don’t know what happened between them.”

I stabbed the cake viciously.

“She’s a hottie!” declared Stefan.

“I remember when she was skinny and wore braces,” said Kurt. “Now look at the size of those bazookas!”

“Kurt!” said Donna in a warning voice.

Mitch and Bill laughed.

I handed around the cake, a painful smile plastered to my face. I told myself that it was wrong to watch Sebastian and Brenda and that I wouldn’t try to see what was happening: it was just coincidence that when I sat down again after helping everyone to cake, I had a clear view.

From what I could see she was using every trick in her well-thumbed manual. Nice girl, my ass!

She pretended to stagger slightly, losing her balance so she could bump against him and take his arm; she played with the strap of her bikini to draw his gaze and show him what he didn’t necessarily have to go on missing. Then she tossed her hair over her shoulder and tucked a strand behind her ear. I was desperate to know what they were saying. Sebastian was shaking his head and she was standing too close and stroking his arm. Then they seemed to be arguing. She was pleading with him, her arms outstretched; he was shaking his head vehemently, his hands on his hips. I don’t know how it happened but then she had her arms wrapped around his neck, her cheek on his bare chest, and he was holding her, rocking her gently, the same way he’d held me last night.