I turned to look for her, and there she was, ten yards away, with her big boobs on display for all, including Leon, to behold. Queen Livy holding court, with her knights—Johnny, Slim, and two new guys—all feasting their eyes upon her. When she saw me, she waved. Then made a look-at-you face.
I knew that face. I’d seen it a hundred times over the years. As hard as I tried to ignore her and swallow the jealousy, it boomeranged back, streaking through me like a speeding locomotive. Livy’s big bare breasts were in Leon’s direct line of vision. He had said it himself: Breasts were a few of his favorite things. What was going through his mind?
As I tightened my grip around his chest, another horrific thought wormed its way into my consciousness. There were only thirty-three hours of Woodstock left. Were Leon and I supposed to part ways as friends, without ever kissing, and never see each other again? The word was Jimi Hendrix would close the festival Sunday at midnight. After his show, we were all leaving, going our separate ways. Would it be the end of us? Could we, would we, ever be anus? Or was this all a figment of my imagination?
A few minutes later, Leon turned around in the water and guided us back toward the shore. When he let me go, I felt a wave of disappointment. We stepped out of the lake and shook off the excess water. I wrung out my hair. Without a towel to wrap up in, goosebumps popped up all over my arms and legs. He pointed toward the boulder holding our clothes and offered me his hand.
When we sat down on the ledge, he noticed my goose bumps. “I wish I was Merlin,” he said, flicking his wrist like he held a magic wand. He lifted his chin to the clouds. “I command ye to shine.”
“A wish shared by everybody,” I said. Hoping to absorb his body heat, I scooted in closer. He wrapped his arm around me. My body warmed instantly. And burned on the inside.
“How tall are you?” he asked.
“That was random,” I said with a chuckle. “Five three, maybe two.”
With a warm grin, he tapped my nose. “Shrimp.” His face was inches from mine.
“How tall are you?”
“A lot taller,” he said.
His next grin was different, unlike the ones I’d seen before. There was something new there, on his face. Something mysterious. Whatever it was made me lightheaded. Blood rushed to my cheeks as I watched his head float toward mine. He looked into my eyes, like he longed to know the depth of them. Then it happened. He rested his lips on top of mine. Soft and warm, they felt so right. As he gently opened my mouth with his, I felt my body catch fire.
It may have been my first time, but I was no stranger to French-kissing. I’d been practicing on my palm for years. I’d examined the kisses in movies and reread the love scenes in my novels over and over. I was determined to prove to Leon that I was a better kisser than Shelly.
We had just settled into a lyrical, divine kissing rhythm when Livy’s flea-bitten voice called from the water’s edge. “Suzannah. Where are you?”
Reeds grew around us, sure, but no doubt she could see us. Why would she interrupt our kiss? That was the burning question. She knew how much I’d longed to make out with Leon.
I wanted to wrap my hands around her throat andsqueeze.
Although I shouldn’t have, I answered. “Over here.” Both Leon and I looked straight at her and waved.
When Aphrodite and her apostles stepped out of the lake, ten feet from the boulder where we had just started kissing, a jealous rage more potent than the green acid at the festival sped throughout my body like a Formula One race car. Not only was Livy the prettiest girl at Woodstock; now she was the prettiestnakedgirl at Woodstock, and she was walking straight toward Leon.
His gaze traveled from her head to her toes. It was quick, but I saw it. How could he not look? Livy’s hair, thick as a horse’s tail, covered most of her breasts, but her nipples peeked between blond strands. Surely Leon noticed the pond water dripping off the dark triangle between her legs.
But what the heck could I do about it? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Livy had an excuse to be naked. It was Woodstock.
Woodstock
Day Two
Saturday, August 16, 1969
4:45 p.m.
Once Johnny, Slim, and Aphrodite had shaken out their nude bodies and she had twisted her ponytail to squeeze out the water, they sat down on the rocky ledge beside us. Sunbeams streaked through gaps in the clouds. Without a word, the three of them closed their eyes and stretched out in the warmth to sunbathe.
My heart grew fists. They banged on the inside of my chest.
I tried to let it all go, but the longer I lay there in the sun, the madder I became. Livy knew I had a mountain of a crush on Leon. Why would she do this to me? Free love or not?
I yearned to take Leon’s hand and run. But to where? There was no other choice but to grin and bear it, lest they all think I was a prudish, possessive baby.
Even though my clothes were sopping wet, I stood up and put them back on, hoping Livy would take the hint and do the same. Maybe body heat would help them dry faster. I had no idea, nor did I care. The only thing I cared about was Livy lying casually in the nude in front of Leon, as if all was well.
All was not well. She had crushed me to the bone. And betrayed me, yet again.
