Nanny in San Diego, part 5

I wanted to go home. I wanted to go back to the house of the Van Breukelen family. I felt humiliated, cold and alone. But humiliated most of all. First I drown like some idiot, then I go seeking for Eddie almost naked and next I let him kiss me and feel me up although I don't even know him. But the most humiliating thing of all is that he stopped. Why did he stop? Because I am a boring inexperienced idiot, that is why.

I decide to go back to the campfire. Ask Diego to bring me home. I don't want to stay here. I don't belong here. I can not surf, nor dance exotic or make music -  I can't even swim in this ocean without drowning. And worst of all; I can not keep the hottest guy I ever saw interested, even while almost naked.

The fire is still burning high, but most of the people are gone. Only Matthew is there with his Australian girlfriend, making out in the sand. Also the girl with the Rastafarian beanie, but she really seems out of it. No sign of Eddie. No sign of Diego either.

"Have you seen Diego?" I ask the Rasta girl.

She shifts her gaze with difficulty from the fire to me and then seems to have trouble focussing. Then she smiles.

"Dutchie." She says. "The drowning one."

That's some nickname, I think.

"Do you know where Diego went?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Where? I want to go home."

"He is with Moon."

"Moon?"

"Yeah, he went with her. He was really into her tonight."

"But I came with him!"

"Can't help you, girlfriend." And she goes back to staring into the flames again.

That's it. Keep your knees together, Rosita had said. But even Diego was not interested in me. And here I am; a nanny from Holland stuck on a Californian beach.

I hear giggling and see Matthew and the Aussie disappear into the dunes. The Rasta girl has fallen asleep.

I grab a blanket and wrap it around me. The warmth of the fire and the sound of the ocean make me drowsy. Slowly I doze off.

I dream of a checkered flannel and my hand following the pattern, my fingers playing hopscotch over the warm firm body underneath. His muscles tense, trying to resist the tickling. A low soft chuckle. A hand grabbing mine. Pulling me under him. His body covering me. Spreading my legs.

With a start I wake up.
The fire is slowly dying. I am cold and confused. I look around me. Across the dying campfire is Eddie. He looks at me through a strand of hair. He holds his guitar, plucks the strings a bit.

I shiver.

He frowns, then gets up and walks towards me.

"Why are you still here?" He asks kneeling next to me.

"Diego left without me." I say, trying to sound cool and casual.
He curses under his breath.

"Shall I take you? Young girl like you shouldn't be left alone."

"I'm not alone." I point at the Rasta girl, but she is gone also.

"Oh." I feel tears well up in my eyes. They roll slowly over my cheek, to the corner of my mouth. I sniffle, and taste the salty liquid with the tip of my tongue.

Eddie stares at my mouth.

It is as if time has stopped.

"Fuck!" He suddenly jumps up.

"Come on, Lotte, let me bring you home."

I feel like a child being punished for something it didn't do. I follow Eddie who paces in front of me. Up the dunes, to the parking space. My head hangs low.

He opens the door of a Volkswagen Beatle for me.

"Where too?" He asks as he plumps down in the drivers seat.

"I don't know."

"Wha....you don't know?" He looks at me in astonishment.

Now I feel even more like an idiot. I have no idea why and how I have become such a silly goose.

I look at Eddie and flap my hands and do "Quack, quack!

Again he stares at me, his brows raised. I know my face colours like a beet.

I put my hands on my flushed cheeks and breath out loud.

"I'm a gooze."

"A goozze?" Eddie starts laughing.

"Sorry, I'm just nervous."

Eddie is suddenly serious again. He sighs. "Lotte, Lotte, what am I gonna do about you."

He reaches to the backseat and gets a beer, opens it, takes a couple of big gulps. Then burps.

I giggle.

"Eddie?"

"Hmm?" He starts the engine.

"Why did you stop kissing me?"

He drives to the road, remains silent, the frown back on his face.

We drive up a small courtyard. Eddie parks the car and opens the car door for me.

"Where are we?" I ask.

"At my place."

I get out and follow him up a stairs. When he opens the door of an apartment I hesitate.

"Don't be afraid, Lotte. I won't touch you."

He gestures at a sofa and continues. "You can sleep here and tomorrow we will call Diego to ask where you live."

I have no other options but to follow him inside. It is a small apartment, messy, with lots of books and clothes everywhere. Not much furniture. The sofa, a low table, some shelves with books, a small table with a record player and lots of albums. And one plant.

He walks to the sofa and kicks it, ubfolds it into a sofa bed. From under the bed he pulls some sheets and a sleeping bag. Making it into a comfortable bed.

I stare at the bed. I never slept at a boy's house before.

He walks to another door. Opens it.

"Bathroom." He says.

He kneels next to the record player and puts on some music. The music creates an even more intimate atmosphere, and nervously I start plucking the flannel shirt I still wear.

My fidgeting fingers draw his attention and he looks at my bare legs.

"You have beautiful legs," he says.

Shyly I turn away.

"Thanks." I walk to the bed and sit on it.

"Where will you sleep?" I ask while I punch the pillow a bit.

"Next to you." Eddie says while he walks up to me tangling his fingers in his hair, combing it out of his face. His beautiful face.