Page 27 of This Is Who I Am

ESTELLE

It’s very different taking to the water with Cass’s gaze on me.

She, Suzy, Hunter, and Bobby are leisurely sipping wine on the deck of The Bay, no doubt talking about me and of course I’m curious about what they’re saying.

But I can’t focus on them. The waves don’t let me.

Surfing is such an in-the-moment activity, demanding full-body control, that you can’t think about the woman you’re falling for.

You can’t sneak backward glances while balancing on a surfboard.

I tried earlier and paid the price—a complete wipeout, to Linda’s exuberant cheers.

But I know that Cass bought some lube today and that she’ll be keen to use it later.

While it was glorious to have her come like that, it’s a delicate balance.

Already, I feel I need to manage expectations.

Already, there’s a complexity creeping into our feelings toward each other that can so easily cause a bunch of problems.

“Estelle, come on,” Sadie admonishes me. “Focus or you’ll drown.”

“That’s a bit dramatic.”

“The ocean does not reward half-heartedness.” She flashes her TV smile. “Although I get why you’re distracted.” She paddles closer toward me. “Cass is for later. You have all night together. This is now, okay?”

“Yes, boss.” Maybe this is exactly what I need.

Something to take me out of my head because, when you’re like me, overthinking a situation becomes second nature.

Sometimes, it even leads to thinking something to death before it has the chance to become something beautiful, and I don’t want that to happen with Cass.

So I do as Sadie says. I obey the natural command she has when we’re in the ocean, trying to catch a wave.

I block everything out, all the doubts, all the reasons for the many scars on my heart, all the papers I’ve yet to go through in my father’s house, all the different ways I’ve tried to approach the problem he set me and failed—and all the ways things can go wrong between me and Cass.

I’m not very good at surfing yet, but there’s a hint of promise when I try to catch a small wave and don’t topple off my board immediately.

More than promise though, there’s a freedom to surfing that I seem to crave right now.

A freedom from everything that has happened and has brought me here—even though it brought me to Cass.

On the board, you have to surrender. Your mind must go blank and you need to rely on instinct and muscle memory. To ride a wave, this gift from the ocean, is exhilarating and therapeutic at the same time. It’s exactly what I need right now.

“Don’t wait until next week to surf again,” Sadie says while we paddle back to shore. “The more you practice, the more fun you’ll have.” I catch her gaze. “There’s always a chance you’ll catch Devon and me in the water and we’re always willing to give you some tips.”

“I’ll take a private lesson from Sadie Ireland,” Linda hollers.

Cass will be busy with the restaurant when it opens again tomorrow.

I promise myself to spend more time in the ocean instead of poring over my father’s papers which, I’m beginning to think, might be a waste of time.

But to get rid of them is to say my final goodbye and I’m not ready for that yet, either.

* * *

“So.” Cass’s warm hand in mine feels right as we walk to her house. “What’s your friends’ verdict on me?” I ask.

“As I told you yesterday, they are all deeply and madly in love with you.”

“Even Suzy?” It’s a little naughty, but the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“Maybe not Suzy, although she likes you very much.” Our steps slow. “Knowing her, she’ll want a one-on-one with you sooner rather than later.”

“Really?” I ask.

“Just to get to know you.”

“Not to question my motives?”

“That, too, I suppose.” Cass emits a small chuckle. “Hunter thinks you’re too good to be true, which is probably shallow gay for you being too hot for me, but it’s not politically correct to say that.”

“Jesus. Is he still in high school?” My reaction is sharp because I’ve been accused of ‘being too good to be true’ before.

“Sometimes, you’d think so.”

“What did you reply when he said that?” In the end, Cass’s opinion is the only one that matters.

She slides her hands up my arm and holds on to me. “That you’re perfect,” is all she says.

“Argh, you really are smitten.” So am I, but it’s different for me. We are not equals in this and that makes it difficult. I try to get my mind back into the zen-like state it needs for surfing, but I’m on dry land and experiencing some feelings of inadequacy that I don’t know how to express.

“Fuck, yes,” Cass says.

As always, at this early, hopeful stage, I don’t know whether to warn her or to practice blissful ignorance.

Although I think I communicate clearly about what I want and don’t want, actions speak loudly, and we had sex.

Of course, Cass looks at me differently since we slept together.

Of course, she will want things that I won’t be able to give.

“Me too,” I say, instead of starting a preemptive conversation—because it’s just a hell of a lot easier.

“Hey, um…” Our pace picks up, as though her next sentence needs momentum to get out.

“I know my hormones are raging out of control and I’ve been getting a little carried away sending you pictures of my new most prized possession.

” That bottle of lube is all over our message thread.

“But just as you told me that I set the pace… You set the pace, too. We set it together. I want you, but I’m aware it’s different for you.

I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything. ”

My hopeful heart beats a little faster.

“Especially,” Cass continues, “because of what I brought to the table before this weekend, you know, explicitly claiming that I didn’t want sex… well, things have changed quickly.”

“It’s a little confusing for both of us, but that’s as much me as it is you.

” Communication is important, even more so when it comes to the parts of our personality we’re least proud of.

“When you told me about your body no longer being able to experience pleasure like before, I took it as a personal challenge. I wanted to make you come so badly.”

“I noticed.” I can’t see her face, but there’s nothing but glee in Cass’s voice.

“I was not completely clear in my intentions about that, even though I know it can be such a slippery slope.”

“Meaning?” Cass asks.

“We had sex, each for our own reasons. I wanted to make you come. You… wanted me.”

“Yeah,” Cass says on a sigh.

“But I’m afraid that…” For the life of me, I can’t push the words past my lips.

I don’t want to put ideas in her head that may never show up of their own accord.

Maybe Cass is deliciously uncomplicated and just wants orgasms by my hand—and tongue—for the rest of her life.

Maybe she’s the kind of person who is perfectly okay with what I have to offer.

Maybe I’m the one with the massive chip on my shoulder and I should just shut up and enjoy the buzz of falling in love with this poised, intelligent and very talented woman.

“What are you afraid of?” Cass’s voice dips into that low, careful register. “Because I’m afraid, too. I think it’s pretty normal when you’re at the start of something new with someone. And at a stage of your life when, every single day, it feels like the rug is pulled out from under your feet.”

“Yeah.” I’m afraid of all those things too, of course. On top of the one unshakable fear I carry into every new relationship, but that’s for me to deal with.

“All I was trying to say.” Cass comes to a stop and turns fully toward me. “Is that we don’t have to use the lube today.”

“Let’s see how frisky you are when we get home.” Personally, I can’t wait to look at her when my fingers slip inside her.

“You do look criminally hot in a wetsuit.” Cass shoots me a grin. “And that tumble you made into the water halfway into the lesson was just… well, I’d say panty-soaking but my panty-soaking days are well and truly over, hence the disproportional excitement over a bottle of lube.”

“You like to see me fall.” I grin along with her. “I’m not sure what to make of that.”

“I don’t know what to make of myself any longer, so…” Cass slants toward me and kisses me on the lips. “And it’s all your fault,” she whispers in my ear before taking me home.