White Dress (Part 5)

Scared by the intensity of her budding feelings, she swims farther away and tries to get closer to the rest of the group. Loud and small, the black silhouettes on the horizon seem further away than they were mere minutes ago. She sees the outline of Tom, the percussionist, and his impossibly tall and lean physique as he jumps from the dock into the water, trying to impress a girl sitting on the rocks. A large monstrous figure turns out to be Addie and Michael trying to start a game of chicken. Michael is quite the talented bassist, but he needs a new shoulder strap. Bottles begin to litter the shore and their laughter echoes in the night. Janet is sitting on the hood of her car with the headlights on, smoking, and holding hands with the lead singer while she rests her head on his shoulder.

Sometimes Elizabeth wishes that she could fit in with her new hall-mates or even with these new strangers. She isn’t usually this spontaneous, though, she wishes she could be. She normally wouldn’t be out here on the lake. She’d rather be reading, but based on how late it is getting, she would prefer to have been asleep in her soft bed hours ago. 

Well, maybe tonight I’d rather live out the stories in my books. Real life isn’t like books: the story isn’t already written out. I have to write my own story. Maybe I should take a chance and open up my heart.

The spot on Elizabeth’s white dress where his rough hand was just resting is growing cold. Could she be wanting what she didn’t think she’d ever long for? She is becoming much too attached to his inviting eyes: They’re either grey or blue; she’s never close enough to say.

“It’s funny to think the stars are so far away,” he muses as he draws nearer, softly treading water.

“Yeah, funny, I saw a documentary that explained how, even though we see constellations as two-dimensional dots on paper, if you travel toward Orion’s Belt...” she pauses midsentence and swallows hard as his warm rugged hands tenderly snake around her waist, “then you might pass one of the stars on the belt, and the others would still be so far away.”

“Hmmm, why are you so smart? I like the contrast between the magnitude of moon and stars and the infinite smallness of the sand at the bottom of the lake and two bodies floating together in the middle.”

Romantic, isn’t he? I really do like it when he talks like that in my ear. I wonder... what it would feel like if his lips...

She turns around to face him and looks deep into his eyes. Blue, they’re definitely blue.

“My, my, aren’t you poetic?”

“Not as poetic as you, my dear, the bright stars dull next to your sharp mind.” He tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear.

His hand still cupping her cheek, Justin keeps musing out loud: “Your wit and beauty, your body next to mine, locked together in a great expanse of dark oblivion...”

“Now you’re being ridiculous.” She leans in, chuckling and nestling her hand further into his hand.

“No, I’m being sincere.”

He leans in, and she closes her eyes.

For the briefest of moments, two pairs of lips make sweet contact under the sparkling moon. Justin smiles into her lips; Elizabeth deepens the kiss. Elizabeth forgets all about holding her dress down and lets it float up around her as they pulled away from each other. He smiles, and she blushes.

A shooting star crosses the sky as they hold each other at arm’s length.

“Would you tell me more about Ireland?”

Justin holds her hands in his, smiling, and begins to paint a rustic picture of small counties, rolling hills, and a cottage surrounded by thin trees and fats cows. It seems to him that every neighbor has at least one cow. His mother taught him how to milk a cow; his sisters thought it was gross but he thought it was fascinating. Justin’s father was a traveling business man who never had time for his kids, but his mother more than made up for his absence with her vibrant personality. She taught him how to cook and how to hike the hills. Elizabeth sighs contentedly in his embrace as the lake ripples around them.

The slight current tries to lift Elizabeth’s dress again and she smoothes it down. I’m done with this dress and I’m done with being so insecure. She takes in a deep breath, looks into his eyes, and takes the plunge.

“Hey, Justin, do you remember when you asked if it wouldn’t be easier skinny dipping than swimming in this dress?”

“Yes, why?” 

“Do you want to try?” Elizabeth stares into his blue eyes, grinning, and leaves a butterfly kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Believe it or not, I’ve never done that. I’m not … comfortable enough to-- ”

“I’ll dare if you are willing to take a chance.”

She holds onto his hand and they wade toward the group of rambunctious skinny-dippers. Elizabeth runs onto the shore and removes her dress without bothering to watch where it lands as she jumps off the dock. Justin follows her, taking off his boxers and jumping in after her.

A nighthawk releases its courting call, a brief song akin to the whip-poor-will’s call. Flying out of the oak tree and across the moon, the nighthawk sings as it glides and dives over the water.

The moon shines brightly; its reflection in the lake blurred as a pair of green boxers and a white dress lay half on the shore and half floating in the water, keeping their secrets hidden in their folds.