Expiration Dating Read online

  “Do you believe in fate?” I asked Andrew.

  He concentrated for a long moment, and I thought maybe he hadn’t heard my question. Eventually he shrugged, not answering. He got up, gestured for me to follow him as he walked towards the edge of the castle. We could see across the whole island, over the water for miles.

  “I bet you could have a pretty wicked spitting contest up here,” Andrew said with a sparkle in his eye. So much for the romantic moment I’d been picturing. “Do you want to try?”

  I reminded myself we were here as friends. It was impossible not to let your mind wander under the circumstances, however. I mean, an attractive guy from your hometown, whom you meet in Italy and with whom you are now vacationing with on a beautiful island at sunset with a bottle of wine.

  I reassured myself it would be easy for anyone to get confused. Not to mention, I thought with a flame of embarrassment, I had confessed my virginity to him in a moment of honesty, probably overwhelming him, scaring him off into ever wanting anything more than a friendship. I wasn’t sure where the outburst had come from, but at least we were clear. I proceeded to cast the first spit ball.

  “I like a girl that can spit,” Andrew said putting a relaxed arm on my shoulders as we headed down. “Now I’m hungry, let’s eat.”

  We found a hole in the wall, authentic pizzeria where an entire pizza cost three Euros. We basked in the cheap, high quality food, sipped some wine, and were feeling very bubbly by the end of dinner. Since I was already in a dress, there was no need to run back and change, so we decided to hit up the bars.

  Whereas Milano had a more modern feel, with Discotecas around every corner, Sardinia was home to cozy bars with wooden tables and signature drinks. We started off at a Jazz bar, decorated with a neon lighted blue saxophone over the door. It was here that Andrew talked about his music and his love for piano. He told me he’d like to make it a career someday, but that he was realistic and didn’t expect it to happen. I encouraged him to try it, call me an optimist.

  I told him about my sisters; I got a little sad talking about them because I hadn’t realized how close we were, until we were so far away from each other. Eventually, I realized I was talking a lot, and asked Andrew about his family. I couldn’t be sure, but his eyes seemed to darken, and he tensed up a little.

  “It was fine,” he said without explanation. Upon further probing he added, “My sister read a lot and I played piano.”

  I decided to leave the subject alone, and we picked up and moved to the next bar. Arm in arm, we strolled through the narrow cobblestone streets, stopping for a shot here, a delicious sip of limoncello there, and every now and then, a sit down beer in an inviting venue. After two hours, we were both feeling pretty loose, and conversation had moved to more serious topics.

  “Why have you never had sex?” Andrew asked, leaning in close. I had known it was coming. Frankly, I had set myself up.

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “What do I think?”

  “It’s hard to explain.” I watched a bead of sweat roll down my pint glass.

  “Try me,” he said.

  “I’m not crazy religious, or waiting until marriage or anything like that. I just really don’t want to regret the first time.”

  “Why would you regret it?”

  “I’ve never had a boyfriend that lasted more than a month, except for in high school, and at that time I just wasn’t ready. Right before I came here I started dating someone, but he found it… other places.”

  Andrew nodded, “You didn’t really answer the question.”

  “I kind of did.” I was having a hard time finding the right words to express my thoughts. “Let me put it this way, I’ve waited this long, it would just feel cheap for me to give it up on a one night stand. Maybe it sounds dumb to you, but…”

  “Yeah, I dunno…” Andrew finished his last swig. “I guess I can see it.”

  “You dated someone in high school, right? And you guys had sex?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “And you dated for, like three years or something. So you clearly cared about her.”

  Andrew nodded, and I continued. “That’s all I’m saying, I wouldn’t regret it if I found the right person… I just think that that person hasn’t come along yet.”

  Andrew tried to get one last drop out of his mug. I pushed my glass towards him. “I’m not saying I want to marry the guy, I’m not saying I want to date the guy, I just …”

  I looked around the outer edges of the room, hoping they could provide guidance and make my explanation come out more clearly.

  “I don’t understand, if you don’t even have to be dating the guy…”

  “I just want to look back and know I made the right choice. You can never get that back, and it’s important that it’s someone I care about. That’s all.” My explanation was finished, if Andrew didn’t understand, we’d just have to agree to disagree.

  Andrew digested the information, though it looked like it was hard for him to swallow. He seemed like he had too many questions swimming around his brain to figure out which to actually ask.

  “Do you think you’ll get back together with your girlfriend?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “She’s a senior so she’ll be going off to grad school after this year.”

  Almost as an afterthought, he added “I’m pretty sure she’s already hooking up with someone else.”

  “Wow, that’s fast, isn’t it?” I asked.

  “Not really, I mean we knew it was coming and it’s been two months,” he said. “Normally, I would have been back in the game already as well.”

  “You haven’t slept with anyone since you’ve been here?” I asked .

  “No…” he looked surprised. “I’ve been hanging out with you. Plus, Italian girls are hard to get. They don’t trust Americans.”

  “Oh,” I crossed my arms. “Well, at least it sound like you gave a valiant effort.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Andrew and I took one last shot at the bar before following the winding streets back to our hostel. By the time we arrived, the mood had regained its vacation spirit.

  Andrew held the door open as I stumbled inside, and as I whipped around to say good night. My voice halted in my throat; there was an unmistakable look in his eye.

  He took my hand and pulled me into a bathroom at the end of the hallway. Considering the beautiful island we occupied, this was certainly not the most romantic place, but the gleam in his eye was sexy in its own way. He grabbed the back of my head, slid my body against the wall and pressed himself to me. Without speaking, he lowered his mouth to my lips and kissed me.

  I didn’t resist; he tasted like limoncello, and I could smell the fresh air on his clothes. The scent was intoxicating, a light sea breeze combined with lemony essence. The room was exquisite, more like a dressing room than anything. The polished gold adornments gleamed and the antique couch in the far corner looked like it belonged in a museum.

  Andrew guided me onto the loveseat. He locked the door and turned to face me. He looked into my eyes, searching for any hesitancy. I put my hands to his shirt, playing with the collar. I caught his gaze, giving him the green light, kissing the soft skin on his neck, slightly below his chin. With a barely discernible smile of relief, he reached for the bottom of my shirt. Piece by piece, Andrew stripped off my clothing until I was half naked. Before I knew it, he was tracing a line between my breasts and down my stomach. I was warm and tingly all over.

  He drew my lips to meet his, the warmth of his skin a welcome touch. I relaxed against the bench, the fluffy pillows creating a cozy nest for the imprint of our entangled bodies. He ran his hands down my bare sides, and I shivered as a reflex. His thumb traced over the side of my ribcage, the tingle in my core becoming more acute by the second. I pulled his head closer, and he followed my lead, protecting my body with elbows perched on the pillows.

  His hands were in m
y hair, running through the sea-salted strands, pulling them tight against my scalp. I arched my back, letting my head fall backwards and my chin turn up. He ran his lips against my neck, working lower and lower. I tensed as he reached for my belt.

  I guided his face back upwards with my hands, pointing his gaze towards mine. The moment seemed suspended in time.

  “Not now,” I whispered. One arm hand was still on his face, while my other arm was around his neck.

  “Why not? Please?”

  He had a longing expression on his face; I wanted to say yes, I really did. But I couldn’t. Not yet.

  “No,” I said, standing up. “I’m sorry.”

  He looked especially boyish with his hair slightly mussed and a hopeful shine in his eyes. I grabbed both of his hands in mine, and he let out a sigh.

  “It’s fun, you know,” he said semi-jokingly.

  “I’m sure it is. I just… we’re going to be leaving in two months and it would be too hard for me to get involved with you. I like you a lot, so let’s just try to keep it as friends, as hard as that will be.”

  He must have heard the resolve in my voice, and relented.

  “I’m sorry, I really am,” I said.

  “Me too.” Andrew opened the bathroom door, and I peeked through narrowed eyelashes at the receptionist. I half-heartedly slid a hand up to cover the side of my face. The man was a professional, however and averted his eyes. Andrew had no shame, leading me by the hand, head held high. We lingered for a moment, exchanging good nights, before heading to separate rooms. I lay awake, my head buzzing with the fresh memories.

  The next day dawned bright and beautiful. There was no noticeable difference in our relationship, except for the time we realized our hands were clasped together as we walked down the sidewalk on the beach. It seemed to hit us at the same time, and we both released our grip at once.

  We sat at the same restaurant as the previous evening, enjoying another cheap pizza and bottle of local wine. Instead of barhopping afterwards, however, we climbed again onto the roof of the Castello and split a bottle of Moscato. Feeling quite bubbly, we watched the fireflies dance in the darkness below us.

  “And then, I told her that I wanted to come because-” Andrew’s lips cut me off. He rolled over and kissed me.

  I let myself fall into the kiss, encircling his neck with my arms. I flinched with pleasure when he pressed his lips to my neck, a weak spot. His skin felt good against mine, warm and smooth, his bare arms strong around my waist.

  He paused for a moment, and I was in shock.

  “I was saying…Um…”

  My words trailed off as he traced the sensitive area on my stomach.

  “Uh…”

  He rubbed my shoulders, my mind losing all focus.

  “What were you saying?” he asked.

  “I don’t remember,” I said, moaning with the pressure of his thumbs above my shoulder blades.

  He bit my lip lightly. I rolled over, foregoing the back massage.

  Andrew kissed me with a sense of urgency, his hand pulling my head close. I remembered lying atop the same Castle where he’d avoided intimacy the previous evening by introducing a spitting contest. What’d brought on this change of heart?

  I turned my attention back to his lips.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The sun crept into the sky, the orange and pinks of the morning glow blurring over the water’s stillness, and I realized we’d spent the night on top of the castle. The time had flown by, as we’d alternated between kissing and caressing, talking and silence. At one point, I’d dozed off as he rubbed my shoulders.

  I shook his shoulder, whispering we should head back to the hostel.

  He was cute when he slept; much more innocent than the sophisticated man I’d gotten to know. I ushered him back towards the hostel, and in a half-daze, he kissed me goodnight, or good morning, on the cheek and stumbled into bed. I closed his door, then slipped into my room and did the same.

  Monday morning rolled around, and waking up for class was pure misery. I debriefed Emilia and Megan about the weekend as we dragged our feet to school. Emilia spent most of the walk nodding, while Megan whooped aloud as I got to the make-out on top of the castle. I flipped through a few pictures on my camera as I spoke, convincing myself it wasn’t a dream.

  When I arrived in class, my heart beat a little faster. I had to admit I was looking forward to seeing Andrew. It had been great reliving my experiences with Emilia and Megan the previous evening, but I felt I didn’t even do it partial justice. I wanted to relive it with Andrew. My heart sank a little when I didn’t see him at the start of class. He wasn’t there at the end, either, and I was surprised he’d skipped it entirely. I resisted the urge to text him, refusing to be a clingy annoyance.

  It’d only been a make-out session, after all. Brilliant, yes of course, but still.

  I didn’t see him Tuesday, either, since we each had other classes and busier schedules now than we had at the beginning of the semester, when we could hang out all the time. Wednesday was the first day he was back in class.

  He greeted me like normal.

  “Nice of you to show,” I said.

  I clicked my pencil, hoping he realized I meant it as a joke.

  “Sunday was a rough night,” he said. “I went out with the roommates and just didn’t make it out in the morning.”

  He said it in such a nonchalant fashion, rubbing his head as he spoke. I couldn’t help feeling a bit left out.

  Get a grip.

  After all, I didn’t ask him to get a drink with Emilia, Megan and me every time we went out. I pushed it out of my mind.

  “Lunch?” Andrew asked after class.

  “I think I’m gonna pass today,” I said. He looked surprised.

  “I have a couple things to do at home, and I want to get a run in, too. Thanks for asking, though.”

  “Sure, anytime. I’ll talk to ya later,” he said, walking away.

  My excuse was partly true, but there was more to it. I wasn’t ready to spend time alone with him yet. I wasn’t sure where we stood, and I felt a little unsettled.

  I made my way home and dressed for a jog. I felt much better as I started to run. I was able to sort my thoughts out; realign my priorities and remind myself I wasn’t living in Italy to be tied down to an American. That it was good Andrew was so casual about everything.

  Even so, I was pleased when I got a text from Andrew that afternoon telling me to grab my roommates and meet him and a group of his friends at Old Fashion

  Entering the club, I saw Andrew surrounded by his friends. Without thinking, I approached Andrew and kissed him on the cheek. The minor display of intimacy led his friends to quiet for a moment, until I played up my level of faux drunkenness and hugged each of them in turn, kissing them on the cheek as well.

  Andrew looked relieved, and I was reminded of our friend status. I meandered back to my girlfriends, who were scoping out the crowd. The three of us met up with Kimberly, who’d changed boyfriends three times in the two months we’d been living in Italy, and grabbed a table in the far corner. We met her latest accessory, a shrimpy Italian with a glossy, poufy purple coat. I wasn’t interested in his friends, but Megan was already macking on his blonde sidekick. I don’t think they’d conversed, but that was okay in her book. I spent my time flipping back and forth, dancing with Andrew and hanging out with the girls.

  Still, when I wasn’t dancing with him, I found myself trying to keep him in my line of sight lest he get carried away by some Italian chick, or even worse, one of my classmates. I knew it was petty, but at one point I saw a blond from one of my classes, a cute one, and I felt the need to accidentally elbow her as I walked past en route to get a drink. I saw Andrew give me a look. I made a show of apologizing, and continued to the bar. A song later, I felt a presence next to me.

  “She’s dumb as a box of rocks, you know,” he said.

  “Who?” I asked, playing with my straw.

  Andre
w rolled his eyes, “Jealous?”

  I stomped my foot. “Absolutely not.”

  “Ok, Stompy,” Andrew smirked and watched as I walked off, no retort at hand.

  I didn’t dance with him again, trying to maintain some form of dignity. Every time he came near, I made sure to grab a tighter hold on my current dancing partner or seem incredibly engaged at a story Kimberly’s boyfriend was telling, a story none of us could understand anyways. Still, as the night wound down, Andrew wouldn’t have any more of my dodging attempts. He grabbed my hands and pulled me onto the dance floor.

  Holding me close, he whispered, “Do you want to come home with me tonight?”

  “And do what?” I asked, deliberately being a smart ass. “You know I’m not going to sleep with you.”

  Andrew’s expression morphed as he refrained from saying whatever initially crossed his mind. “I know.”

  A few moments passed as we swayed to the music.

  “Okay.” I said.

  Andrew nodded, “Let’s get out of here.”

  I got in the cab with Andrew and texted Emilia and Megan from there. I knew they were carpooling home with a few other girls so they’d be fine, but I didn’t want them to worry. Emilia sent back a winking face. Megan told me to: get it.

  Back at Andrew’s place, he offered me a drink. I accepted, and we sat in our dancing clothes, damp with sweat, nursing the tasty nightcap. We were quiet, left alone to our separate thoughts. I collected the empty glasses when we finished, dumped them in the sink and followed Andrew to his loft. His roommate, Josh, wasn’t home yet.

  My clothes were off in no time, scattered across the floor. Andrew’s hands traced over my bare stomach, my muscles flexing involuntarily. He had a smile on his face as I leaned in for a kiss. He picked me up, my legs wrapping naturally around his waist. Andrew leaned a hand against the wall for support, his muscles flexed against my skin, his kiss intense. After a moment he paused, heavy breathing filling the silence.

  I helped him remove his shirt, anxious for my skin to be in contact with his. The simple touch of his skin against mine ensured my resolve was close to crumbling.