The Summer Of 79

It was a hot, August day in 1979 when I first saw her. We had just finished surfing at C Street in Ventura, and we were headed home. I was walking along with my best friend Tom, on the boardwalk in front of the Holiday Inn. We weaved our way through the crowd carrying our surfboards, following closely behind two bikini clad girls, and taking no opportunity to pass. Have you ever seen someone from behind, and then were disappointed when you saw them from the front? Well, I assure you, this wasn't the case here.

I was drawn to the shorter one on the right, who was wearing a skimpy yellow bikini that barely covered those perfect, rounded butt cheeks. Tom nudged me and grinned, to indicate he was on the same page. They were both slim and shapely, and had all the right curves in all the right places. I visually followed the crease of her spine up her well-tanned back, to her smooth-toned shoulders. She was laughing with her friend, and oblivious to the two lurking strangers in tow. Her long, sun-bleached blond hair cascaded down her back and flipped from side-to-side as she talked and laughed with her friend. I was blinded to all but that yellow polka-dot bikini swaying in front of me.

Saturday was always the most crowded day of the week on the boardwalk. As we maneuvered our way through this mass of humanity, a skate-boarder attempted to pass us from behind and clipped the skag on my surfboard. That sent him hurling forward toward the girls. They all went sprawling to the concrete. Not missing the opportunity, I dropped my board and rushed to their assistance. The kid was apologizing profusely. I pushed him out of the way.

"Hey dude!" the kid whined.

"Beat it, doofus!" I replied, glaring menacingly at him as I reached out to help up this dream girl.

He grabbed his skateboard and took off down the boardwalk, flipping me off as he went - probably headed for his next victim.

"Don't be so hard on him. It was just an accident," she said, taking my hand, looking up at me as I pulled her to her feet.

As she stood, I was speechless. She was even more gorgeous from the front. Her deep-blue eyes drew me in, and her smile was radiant. The yellow bikini top was sparsely covering two of the most magnificent breasts I have ever cast my eyes upon.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" she teased, with a coy, confident grin, pulling at her straps and re-positioning her top.

"I... I'm sorry that..." I stammered.

"Hey! There's another girl on her ass here who could use a hand too," her friend said, extending her hand.

"Oh, sorry!" I replied, apologetically, helping her to her feet.

"It's okay. I am used to being invisible when I am around Miss Hottie. I'm Jan, and you will be interested to know this is Chrissy."

"Hey, glad to meet you both. I'm Billy, and this is Tom. Are you okay?"

They looked at each other and Chrissy replied, "Yeah, I think we'll survive. In fact, I'm better off than your surfboard."

I picked up my board and examined it. It had about a two-inch ding on the rail from where I dropped it on the concrete.

"It's okay, a little duct tape and it will be good to go. Besides, it's new, and needed to be christened."

"Hey, we were just on our way to get an ice cream cone. Would you let us buy you guys one for all your trouble?" Jan asked, looking at Tom with a smile.

"No!" I replied, and then added, "We will buy!"

Tom frowned at me and pulled me to the side. He whispered, "Are you nuts? I've only got a buck and change."

Looking in my waterproof wallet, I had even less.

"I've got an idea," I said.

"Uh-oh. Your ideas always seem to involve getting me in a shit-load of trouble," Tom replied, sarcastically.

I then suggested to the girls, "If you'll all give me the flavors of your cones, I'll go pick them up at Baskin-Robbins. I worked there this summer. I know the manager."

"Yeah, you know the manager, alright. Isn't she the one that shit-canned you for giving away free cones to your friends?" Tom chuckled. The girls laughed.

"Hey, it was just a big misunderstanding. I've still got credit there," I replied, punching Tom's shoulder with a smack.

"Looking up and grinning, Chrissy said, "Rocky Road. Two scoops on a waffle cone."

"Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough on a sugar cone, double-dip, please," Jan added, adjusting her bikini.

As I entered the shop, I thought, "Fuck! Annette is still manager."

She saw me come in and said loudly, "You've got a lot of nerve coming in here, Billy!" The shop was full, and all heads turned.

"I just came in to beg your forgiveness, Annie. You know I still love ya," I replied, grinning my biggest smile.

"It won't work, Billy. I'm immune to your lame charm. Don't waste it on me," she glared, stepping out from behind the counter.

"Actually, I just came in to settle up," I said, sliding my fingers softly down her arm.

She pulled her arm away and replied, "Settle up? Settle up what?" she said, with a raised voice.

"Well, I didn't get my last paycheck, and thought we might come to terms."

"Terms?...Terms? Here are your terms. Get the fuck out of here or I'll call the cops!" she shouted. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and gave her their full, undivided attention.

"Annie, calm down. I was just talking about the four hours I'm still owed. I'm not asking for money, just four cones and we're even. Come on, I'm sorry for the mishap, and I'm sorry I missed our date. I was kinda preoccupied, and the time got away from me. I promise I'll make it up to you." I begged.

"Your empty apology means nothing to me, Billy. You're not gonna smooth talk your way outta this one," she stated, resolutely folding her arms across her chest.

I dropped down on one knee, took her hand, and begged,"Pleeeease Annie! I promise I'll make it up to you."

The shop was filled with people laughing, as this whole scenario played out. All the patrons were fully engaged in this scene, and I could see Tom and the girls through the window, cracking up.

An older woman, standing in the growing line with her grand-kids, impatiently said, "Give the boy a break so we can get our orders!"

"Billy, get up! You're embarrassing me... Okay, four cones and we're even, but you've gotta help me clear this line."

I picked an apron off the hook and gave her a big hug and kiss on the cheek. The customers applauded as I went over behind the counter and said, "Okay, who's next in line?"

It was about fifteen minutes later when I came out of the shop with one of those cardboard carry-alls and four cones. They were all sitting at an umbrella table, talking. The two girls were sitting together across from Tom. I pulled up a chair opposite Chrissy.

"Okay, who's got the rocky-road on waffle? I added some sprinkles and a cherry."

"Why, thank you, kind sir," Chrissy grinned. Her blue eyes were enchanting, as she reached out, taking her cone.

I was transfixed by her lovely face. She had to have the most kissable mouth and prettiest smile I had ever seen. As she bent forward to retrieve her cone, those magnificent breasts naturally jiggled in their yellow confinement. I don't know if there is such a thing as love at first sight, but that moment was etched in my mind forever.

"Earth to Billy! There are some other hungry people here too," Jan exclaimed. I just pushed the tray forward, never breaking eye contact with my blond goddess.

We talked and laughed for hours, until the sun was getting low in the west. I discovered that Chrissy and Jan went to a private high school, whereas Tom and I went to the local public high school. Chrissy's dad was some big-wig at Proctor and Gamble, and they lived in a gated community at the beach.

I, of course, asked her out. She didn't say no, but she said her dad would not let her go on unsupervised dates until she was eighteen and that was in a week. I had turned eighteen just last month.

Unsupervised dates? What the hell does that mean? Anyway, I offered them a ride home, but Chrissy said they had their own car. We walked them down the winding pathway to the parking lot, while holding hands.

There were just a few cars left in the lot. Chrissy pointed at one, saying, "That's mine."

Her car was a brand new Mustang convertible, still with dealer tags. It was a bright candy-apple red, with black pony leather upholstery. Coincidentally, it was parked right next to mine, which was also a Mustang. However, mine was a '65, which meant it was a rust bucket, painted metallic blue and primer gray, with the front bumper missing and the passenger door wired shut.

"And this is mine, such as it is. It's more like a classic," I replied, putting my board on the roof-rack and strapping it down. Tom followed suit.

Standing in front of Chrissy's car, we all talked, but Tom and Jan wasted no time getting into a lip-lock.

"Nice ride," I said to Chrissy, finding it hard to not notice my friend making out a few feet away. I was wanting to kiss her more than I ever wanted to kiss someone in my life.

"Yeah, my dad bought it for me when I received my scholarship to Stanford. I see you've got a Mustang too," she said, staring at my car.

"Well... Yeah, but like I said, It's a work in progress," I replied, securing the last straps on my surfboard. Then, with Jan and Tom hard to ignore, I mustered up my courage, and taking her by the hands, I asked, "May I kiss you?"

"I don't kiss boys I just met," she said softly, but turned her face up and closed her eyes.

I bent over and put my hands on her shoulders, and slowly lowered my lips to hers and they ever so softly touched. It was like no kiss I have ever experienced before. Her lips were wet and inviting. I could feel her breath on mine. This kiss was more than a kiss; it was a promise - a promise of more kisses to come. I pulled her to me, and she put her hand behind my head. The feel of her lush body pressing into mine brought a shiver throughout my entire body. This is the time in the movies that the skyrockets go off, and the orchestra plays.

"Wow!" Chrissy panted, as we broke our kiss. I just pulled her in for another one, even more sensual than the first. This time, she slightly opened her mouth, and our tongues touched, ever so lightly. Our mostly naked skin pressed together, and her magnificent breasts pushed against my chest. We kissed for a couple minutes, that seemed like hours, and finally broke it off.

"Chrissy, I have to see you again!" I begged.

"Yes, I want you to, but you have to talk with my dad, and he's a hard nut to crack." The serious look on her face made it seem like an impossible task. I had not yet met him, and was already intimidated.

"Hey guys, we have to get rolling. I'm meeting my mom at the mall in fifteen minutes," Jan said reluctantly, as she slipped on her clothes over her bikini.

"Can we get your numbers?" I asked.

"Sure," Chrissy said, taking an indelible marker out of her purse that was sitting on the driver's seat. She gripped me by the wrist, and wrote it on my arm, with a big grin on her face.

"Give me yours too, Billy."

I took her marker and paused a moment, looking at where I was going to write it. I took her arm, but she jerked it away. "No way! Here, write it on this," she said, handing me a paper napkin.

We watched, waving at our new friends as they drove away in a roar. Tom looked at me smugly, without saying a word. I just smiled. We both knew this was a good day.

~oOo~

Football practice was brutal. I was limping to my car when Tom came up from behind and took my workout bag.

"Let me help, dude. Spanky really has it in for you, man. He took it to you today without mercy. I'm surprised the coach let him blast our star quarterback."

"Well, he couldn't have done it if I had any blocking from my fucking offensive line!" I replied, glaring at Tom.

"Hey man, I wasn't going to get my bell rung in a practice. He went after you like a guy possessed. What the hell did you do to him anyway?"

"It was his girlfriend, Vicky."

"Somehow, I figured a chick was involved in this." He chuckled, and rolled his eyes.

"She asked me to meet her at McDonalds after school last week."

"Yeah, and...?"

"She just wanted to be seen with me to make Spanky jealous. I guess it worked."

"Hahaha. You're such a sap with women. They play you like a fiddle. Talking about women, did you ever call Chrissy?" he asked, throwing my bag in the trunk.

"I wanted to, but I didn't want to seem too pushy. Call to soon and they think you're desperate. Call too late, and they think you're not interested. How about you? Did you call Jan?" I asked, slamming my trunk closed twice to get the latch to catch.

After I got in, and Tom crawled through the passenger window, I turned the key and the engine sputtered to life.

"Yeah, I called her the same day we met them. We're going out Friday after the game. You oughta ask Chrissy to double with us. And... When in the hell are you gonna fix this muffler?"

"When I win the fucking lottery, or... I at least find a job."

~oOo~

That night, I was sitting in my room, procrastinating about doing my physics homework, and staring at Chrissy's number. I tapped my pencil nervously on my desk as I was mustering up the courage to call. I have never had to ask permission to date anyone before. What do I say?

After at least an hour, I picked up the phone and punched in her number. I was half hoping no one would answer. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. My hands were sweating.

"Hello, Copland residence," a pleasant woman's voice answered.

"Hi... Is.. Is Chrissy there?"

"Christina is in her room. Can you wait while I get her? Who may I say is calling?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I will wait. I'm Billy Gray," I replied, respectfully.

"Are you the young man she met at the beach, whom we heard so much about?"

"I think so, Ma'am."

"Hold on. I'll get her."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"Don't call me Ma'am. Mrs. Copland will suffice."

After a short pause, I heard the phone rustling, and then Chrissy's excited voice, "Billy! I thought you would never call!"

"Hi, Chrissy. I'm sorry I didn't call sooner. I really wanted to."

"What stopped you?"

"Well, I could make up some lame excuse about being too busy, but I won't lie to you. The truth is that I was kinda scared."

"Hahaha, scared? Of little ol' me?"

"No! Of course not! I was a little apprehensive of... your dad."

"Awwww."

"Chrissy, I called to ask if you would like to see me play in our home-coming game Friday night. Tom and Jan are going out afterwards, getting a bite to eat and going to the drive-in. Would you like to come?"

"I told you that my dad doesn't want me to date until the end of this month, when I turn eighteen."

"Actually, this is you just going to the game with friends, and seeing a flick afterwards, it's not a real date."

"You know I want to go... Wait a sec. I'll ask mom."

I could hear voices in the background, and then, "Billy?"

"Yes, Ma'am...I... I mean, Mrs. Copland."

"Chrissy says that you want to take her out. Did she inform you of our rules?"

"Yes, Mrs. Copland, she did, but this isn't actually a date date. It's her going to see me play in my homecoming game, and then getting some fast-food afterward, and maybe take in a flick. We would be joining her friend Jan, and my friend Tom."

"Young man, here is what I propose. We will go as a family to your game, and then meet you in the parking lot, after the game. We would like to talk with you before we agree to anything. Is that acceptable to you?"

"Absolutely!" I replied with enthusiasm.

"Very well, we will see you Friday. Here's Christina."

"Billy?"

"Yeah!"

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I suppose not. Your Mom seems nice. Hey, I gotta get on this physics assignment. I'll call tomorrow before the game. I'm gonna see if I can get you some reserved seats. Just tell them at the gate who you are."

"That's sooo sweet of you. Don't worry. Dad's not that bad, and he loves football. See you at the game... Bye."

"Night."

~oOo~

The game was intense. The contact was insane, neither team willing to give an inch. Our team was eligible for the playoffs, with either a win or a tie, and I was determined for victory. I had been sacked four times by number twenty-four, their best defensive-end, and top college prospect. Channel Islands was not in the running for the playoffs, but relished the role of spoilers. If we pulled this comeback off, Oxnard would not only be in the playoffs, but win homecoming.

I looked in the crowd for Chrissy and her family, but couldn't see them because of the glare of the lights. There were fourteen seconds left in the game, and one time-out. We were down ten to thirteen, and the ball was on the twenty-nine yard line of Channel Islands. It was third-down. Coach Lash called time out and pulled me to the side.

"Billy, we're going to run a Blue Right Twenty-Seven Blast to the center of the field. Call the time-out, and kick the field-goal. You got that? No heroics!"

"Coach... Anderson has already missed at a shorter field-goal."

"That's the play, Billy. Run it!" coach said, resolutely.

"Huddle up," I called out to the offense, and squatted down to one knee.

"The coach says Blue Right Twenty-Seven Blast to get to the center of the field, and kick the field-goal. I think they all know that is the play, and will clog the center. But I'm going to check that call, and call Red Rover tackle eligible on a roll-out. I'll hit Tom on the wing. Just pick up twenty-four. He's been on my ass all night."

"Are you nuts? We've only run that play a couple times in practice. The coach will kill you," Spanky warned.

"That's the play! Red Rover, on three, break."

I got under the center and assessed the defense. They were crowding the line of scrimmage, just as I thought. Twenty-four was tight off the nose-guard. I just hoped he wouldn't react to our shift-play.

"Blue Twenty-Seven, Blue Twenty-Seven, shift." I called out. The players changed positions, and the defense looked confused.

"Down, set, hup, hup, hup." The ball snapped in my hands. Tom fake check blocked, and ran to the side-line in a post route. I rolled-out left, with twenty-four hot in pursuit. I let the pass go, just as I was tackled from behind. The crowd was roaring as I scrambled to my feet just in time to see Tom dive into the end-zone for his first touch-down ever. The horn sounded as time ran out. We won! The band was playing, people were screaming, and running out on the field.

I was still picking out grass from my face mask, as coach grabbed me from the back of my jersey. He glared at me intently, and said, "That was a hell of a gamble, and you got lucky. Billy, you'd be a hell of a quarterback if you could just take instructions. We'll talk at practice... Good game!" He slapped me on the butt.

Someone jumped on my back. I recognized the hands wrapped around my neck by the charm bracelet.

"That was sooo much fun. You're my hero," Chrissy proclaimed.

I twisted around in her grasp, facing her, and bent to kiss my lovely Chrissy. I dropped my helmet to the ground, but she put her hands on my jersey and pushed away.

"Billy, these are my parents, Don and Mary," she said, turning to a couple behind her. He was a big guy, a bit taller than me. You might even call him ruggedly handsome. Chrissy's mom was an older version of her, but with brunette hair.

"I'm glad to meet you," I said, extending my hand first to Mary, and next to Don.

I noticed that both Chrissy and her mom took the time to purchase our school t-shirts. Whereas her Mom was in jeans, Chrissy wore the cutest black pleated short skirt, almost like a cheer-leader.

Don was a big, fit man, with grey, salt-and-pepper hair, wearing a Stanford polo-shirt. He shook my hand with almost a bone-crushing grip, and said, "Good game, son. That was a hell of a gamble you made on that last play. It was your call, right? No coach in his right mind would call a tackle eligible shift as a final play."