Some Things Are Meant to Be

It was lunch time before my phone beeped. I checked the text message and breathed a sigh of relief that my contingency plan was going to work out. Melanie spent most of the morning on the phone, talking to her folks, her boss and whoever else she just had to be in touch with.

I corralled her as best I could. We made our way out of the boarding concourses and into the main hub. There were lines for everything: tickets, security, baggage; hell, even Ben & Jerry's was backed up four deep. We passed out of the security area, then went up an escalator into the main atrium of the hotel.

Outside, the sun was out, but it was still cold. The airport's snow plows and salt trucks had cleared most of the runways, but it was still pretty ugly out there. We checked with the desk and our room was almost ready.

"All we have available is the executive suite," the attendant said. "Non-smoking, king-sized bed. I see you're a member of our Platinum Rewards Club. The rate for one night is fifty thousand points."

I smiled and handed her my credit card to bill "incidentals". Melanie was still jabbering away on her cell phone.

"Will you be with us for just one night or two?" the woman at the desk asked.

"Ask me tomorrow morning," I laughed.

"I'll hold this room for you for one more night, Mr. Westcott," she said with a wink. Platinum Rewards Club has some privileges, I guess. "Just let us know by noon tomorrow."

"I'm sure we'll know by about eight tomorrow morning," I said. She handed me two magnetic strip keys and we went up to our room.

I wasn't carrying much by way of luggage. In fact, I didn't even have a change of clothes or deodorant. I was packing my laptop, a couple of books, my iPod and some other odds and ends in my backpack. Melanie had everything in her carry-on suitcase that was designed specifically to fit in one of the overhead bins on a plane.

We settled into the room. There was a good-sized bedroom separated from the main living space. There was a large flat-panel TV, a desk, couch and kitchenette. The bathroom had both a stand-up shower and a large whirlpool tub.

"I need a shower," Melanie rolled her suitcase to the bathroom.

"Yeah, well I need some clothes. I'm gonna run downstairs and get something to wear and find a toothbrush. Do you need anything?"

"No, thanks," she replied. Melanie flashed me a grateful smile that made my heart skip a beat. Then she closed the door to the bathroom and I heard the water running.

A little while later, I returned to the room, my arms laden with bags. I had picked up two changes of clothes, some basic toiletries, a pizza and some drinks. For airport shopping, I didn't get gouged too much.

I set the pizza down on the table and called for Melanie. There was no response. I peeked into the bedroom and saw her wrapped in a terrycloth bathrobe, her hair up in a towel. She was lying curled up on top of the covers, her eyes closed.

Even asleep, she looked worried. As quietly as I could, I hunted around in the closet for a blanket, lay it over her, then drew the curtains. I shut the door to the bedroom, turned on the TV, ate a quarter of the pizza and dozed off on the couch.

Wishing that Melanie Nakamura was snuggled up against me as she had been the night before.

**************

"Have a good nap, sleepyhead?"

I stretched and blinked the haze away. Melanie was dressed in a nice blouse and knee-length skirt. Her hair was pulled back and she had replaced her contacts with a stylish pair of wire-framed glasses. Her big brown eyes bored into me.

"What time is it?" I yawned.

"Almost five," she replied. "Are you hungry?"

"A little," I said. "I got a pizza earlier."

"Yeah, I saw that." Looking over, I saw that she had eaten some, but still, over half was left.

"Do you want to get something for dinner?" she asked. There was a hesitant look in her eyes for a second, then it was gone. "My treat."

"Um, sure," I sat up and rubbed the flat spot in my hair the couch had left. "Let me go clean up."

After the quickest shower in my life, I was dressed in a new pair of pants and button-down shirt. I still had the same pair of worn-out—but comfortable—deck shoes on. Melanie's long, jet-black hair was hanging around her shoulders, highlighting her exotic, angular features.

I nervously ran my hand through my hair, wondering if I was finally getting that date with Melanie Nakamura that I had dreamt about since middle school. The date every guy in our high school had coveted, but only a half-dozen had ever gotten. Needless to say, I wasn't one of them.

We went to the door. I jumped with both surprise and delight as she slipped her hand into the crook of my arm. I walked with my head in the clouds all the way to the restaurant in the lobby. They had a nice upscale menu that wasn't outrageously pricey and the atmosphere was perfect.

Once again the airport was bustling with people trying to get to wherever it was they needed to go. There were still a few delays and lots of short tempers, but the storm had passed and now it was just a matter of all the planes and people getting shuffled around to their proper places. The line at the ticket desk was still a mile long, so we went right to dinner.

For the first part of the meal, neither of us said much. I could tell she was worried about something. Every few minutes she checked her phone when it buzzed, but eventually put it away once we ordered. We continued to talk about our lives since high school. We compared notes about our mutual friends and gossiped about everyone we could think of.

A couple of drinks loosened us both up. I ordered the Maryland crabcake dinner. They were to die for: lots of lump crab meat and not a lot of filler. They had a good taste that didn't have so much spice that it overpowered the crab. Melanie ordered a chicken and pasta dish. We got to sharing and both found that we liked what the other had ordered.

Not that I had a lot to drink, but maybe it was the alcohol that left me staring a couple of times at the valley between Melanie's perfect breasts. She wasn't showing off much cleavage, but there was just enough skin cause my eyes to linger longer than they should have. For her part, she ignored my oogling glances and continued our conversation.

I tried to grab the check, but she was quicker than me.

"You've paid for everything so far," she chided me gently.

"Just because you bought me dinner, don't think that I'm easy and going to put out for you tonight." Perhaps I had a little too much to drink with dinner. She only gave me an amused smirk.

We left the restaurant arm in arm. The line had died down at the ticket desk and we checked on our flight for the next day. The plane was still held up in Minneapolis, but the weather had cleared and they expected that it would be back in the air by noon. Then it was just a matter of getting seats on an over-booked flight.

"We only have seats left in first-class," the ticket agent said.

"Together?" I asked.

"Yes, sir," he replied. "Four-A and Four-B."

"We'll take 'em," I said as Melanie's eyes got wide.

He tapped his fingers along the keyboard. "Will you paying for these together or separately."

Melanie started to protest, but I held up one hand and reached for my wallet with the other. I drew out my frequent flyer card. "I'd like to cash in some of my points."

The ticket agent scanned the back of my card. "I've got you all taken care of. Right now, the plane is scheduled for a 3:46 departure. You probably want to be through security by 2:30."

"What about my luggage?"

"It's probably already gone ahead of you," the agent said with an apologetic smile before he handed us our tickets.

"You didn't have to do that," Melanie said as we walked away.

"Do what?"

"Upgrade us to first-class," she said quietly.

"I've got a million points, so it's no big deal."

"Is there any way I can pay you back?" she shot me one of those looks that made my heart skip a beat. Again.

The response I wanted to give her was, Sure thing, Mel. Let me bend you over and fuck your brains out. But I decided that would be tacky. Instead, I said, "Naw. I've literally got a million points. I have one of those airline credit cards, plus since I'm single and don't have any kids, I actually have money and time to travel."

"And your community college job just lets you pick up and go?"

I wondered if she had seen through my lie. I shrugged. "Well, we get three months off in the summer, spring break, Thanksgiving break and three weeks off in December. Plus, I've been there long enough that I only have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays and Monday/Wednesday office hours."

"Must be nice to be so unencumbered." There was a wistful tone in her voice. We walked back to the room in silence.

Throughout the night, I couldn't help but feel that there was some underlying sexual tension between us. Maybe it was just me. Or the drinks. When we stepped into the room, I wondered how the night was going to end. After all, there was only one king-sized bed. And two of us.

Melanie went back to the bedroom and began digging around in her suitcase. She drew out a small toiletry kit. "I'm going to take a bath."

I smiled, trying not to look disappointed at the apparent end of our night together.

Plopping down on the couch, I turned the TV on and began channel surfing as I heard the water running in the whirlpool tub. Only absently did I pay attention to the tube (remember when they actually had cathode ray tubes inside them?); instead, I replayed over and over the previous events of the night.

There I was, alone—alone!—at dinner with Melanie Nakamura, the smartest, prettiest girl in my high school. Not only was she talking to me—me!—but she seemed genuinely interested in catching up with a kid who had spent most of middle and high school as "invisible". Yes, I was smart, but socially adept I was not. Melanie was the Holy Grail for us geeks. She was absolutely unattainable. We were mere peasants and she was Amaterasu, the Japanese sun goddess.

I would have spent the entire night sitting there on the couch with a goofy grin on my face if her melodic voice didn't call me out of my daydreams.

"Kev? Kevin?"

Springing to my feet, I went to the door of the bathroom. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," she sounded a little nervous. "Can you come in here for a second?"

My hands were shaking as I turned the latch on the door. The lights were out. She had set a flashlight against the mirror. Its soft glow bathed the room in a gentle light. Next to the sink, Melanie had plugged her iPod into a small pair of speakers. The sound of waves washing against the shore echoed off the walls. Her clothes were folded neatly in the corner next to the door.

A lump formed in my throat when I looked over at the big jacuzzi tub. Melanie's head was the only part of her that was visible. The tub was filled with bubbles. A folded washcloth was under her neck. A butterfly clip held her hair up. Her eyes were closed.

"Would you like to join me?" I had to do a double-take. There was no possible way she could have meant those words. Was there?

I stood in the doorway like a dummy.

She giggled. "Either come in or go away. You're letting all the warm air out!"

With great effort, I willed my body into motion. I stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

"Come on in," she said gently. "There's enough room in here for four. I won't look. I promise."

Melanie winked then closed her eyes.

In record time, I shed my clothes and left them in a heap next to hers. Trying not to make any waves in the tub, I sat down opposite her. Our legs brushed together.

I couldn't help it. Honest.

The water wasn't scalding hot, but between the warm air and the alcohol I had imbibed earlier, I began to feel lightheaded. I wondered if it had anything to do with the petite beauty who was so graciously sharing the tub with me.

Neither of us spoke for a long time.

We settled into a comfortable position. I was unable to not touch her, but I did my best to not seem like I was trying to be all over her, either.

"Do you miss high school?" she quietly broke the silence.

"Not really," I replied. "I miss some of the people, but I could leave all the drama behind."

"But life was so simple then," Melanie opened her eyes just a little. "No responsibility. No worries."

"No worries?" My eyebrow went up. "High school was all worries for me. Getting into college . . . What will people think about me? . . . Will Adam Harrington make fun of my shoes this week? . . . Why don't I drive a cooler car? . . . No, Mel, everything about high school was stressful to me. You couldn't give me a million bucks to go through that again."

"You're right about the drama," she said. "But sometimes . . . sometimes, don't you just get tired of life?"

I started to say something, but stopped. This was the Melanie I first saw when she sat down next to me the day before. The weary one. She only had a little grey hair—she probably coloured it out—but there were lines around her eyes I hadn't noticed before. Sitting there with me, she was naked not only physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.

It was as if all the stress of her trip had finally caught up with her.

Tentatively, I felt around the tub and reached for her foot. She jumped slightly at my touch, but when my thumbs dug in her heels, she let out a deep, contented sigh.

Starting gently, I worked both feet over in a gentle massage. I could swear she almost melted into the bathwater.

Every now and then, she'd give me a "harder" or "right there", but mostly she let me work at my own pace. She squealed with delight when I pulled gently on her toes.

After ten minutes or so, the tension lines were gone from her face. It looked like she was about to go to sleep.

"Why did we never go out?" Her voice was so soft, I could barely hear her.

"You were too busy going ga-ga over Jonah Nelson," I replied, making reference to the school's football/baseball/basketball star.

In the dim light, I saw her smile at a fond memory or two. "You couldn't stand him, could you?"

She must have noticed that I could barely hide my contempt. He was pretty, self-absorbed, arrogant and stupid. And he had his choice of girls in the school. Including the woman whose foot I was holding.

"It's too bad you didn't come to the reunion back in '01." Her gentle smile turned into a wicked grin. "He went to Florida State to play baseball, knocked a girl up, blew out his knee and dropped out when he lost his scholarship. Last I heard, he was managing a tire store but I think it went out of business. You'll be happy to know that he's balding, overweight and still dumb as a box of rocks."

I don't know if she was saying that for my benefit or if it was true, but I sneered at the thought of the school's #1 jock being down on his luck. I know it's petty. So sue me. Us nerds hate(d) the pretty boys.

"So why did you never ask me out?"

"Would you have said 'yes'?"

She cut her response short. Both of us knew what the answer was. And I don't blame her. I wouldn't have wanted to go out with me in high school, either. The silence hung over us for several long moments.

"Do you know what I always liked about you?" In the dim light, her eyes bored right in to me. "You always seemed comfortable with who you were. You never tried to act like you wanted people to like you. You weren't ashamed to talk about Dungeons & Dragons with your friends. You put those stupid neon windshield wipers on that piece of shit car you drove. It was like you were saying, 'This is who I am; if you don't like it, go to hell.' I wish I had been like that in high school."

I snorted. "I'd have traded all that to be cool for just one day."

"It wouldn't be worth it," Melanie said softly.

"That's easy for you to say; you were one of the cool kids."

It was her turn to scoff. "Do you know how hard it was to be one of five Asian kids in with two thousand black and white kids? To have people ask why my eyes are shaped funny? Or if I know all the secrets of the Kama Sutra? Or to be called a 'chink' or a 'jap'?"

We both took a deep therapeutic breath.

"Do you know what else I liked about you?" she asked after a long pause. "You were always a romantic at heart. You think in terms of knights in shining armour and honour and right and wrong. You always treated us girls with respect and dignity, not like pieces of meat to be groped or treated as conquests."

"Yeah, well, look where it got me," I said with a smirk. "Thirty-six and single. In the dreaded 'friend zone' all the time. You'll notice that none of the girls I treated so well ever kissed me."

"One of them is in a bathtub with you, Kevin," Melanie pointed out.

I let out a deep, hearty laugh. "Yeah, eat your heart out, Jonah Nelson! I'm naked with Melanie Nakamura and you're not!"

Both of us giggled like we were eighteen again, but Melanie's face got serious and maudlin again.

"Koizumi."

"What?"

"It's Koizumi now," she said with a frown. "Melanie Koizumi. That's the real reason why I wouldn't have gone out with you back then. My parents wanted me to be a good Japanese girl and stay away from white guys and black guys. They'd have freaked out if I'd brought you home. They did like you, though. They thought you were smart and well-mannered. It's not your fault you're not Japanese."

The water had cooled a little and our skin had shriveled in the heat.

"I'm going to rinse off." Melanie let out a deep sigh. "Close your eyes."

Dutifully, I resisted temptation and refrained from looking as she lifted herself from the tub. I heard the shower run for just a second as she rinsed the bubbles off. When I heard the door open and close, I opened my eyes, hardly believing my luck.

I pulled the stopper out of the tub and stepped into the shower myself. I took my time figuring that Melanie was getting ready for bed. It was all I could do to resist the urge to masturbate.

After drying off, I wrapped a towel around my waist and opened the door, I stuck my head out and saw the lights were off.

"Mel?"

"Over here," she called from the bed.

"Are you decent?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Okay, I need to get my boxers and then we'll figure out—"

"Turn off the flashlight and come out here," she interrupted.

I stepped out of the bathroom and walked past the sink and mirror. My eyes nearly popped out of my head.

Melanie was lying in the middle of the bed. In the low light that shone through from behind the curtains, I could tell the comforter was turned down, but she had pulled the top sheet up under her arms. In the relative coolness of the bedroom, her nipples were sticking straight up. My cock unconsciously hardened under the towel.

"I've, um . . ." I stammered.

"Kevin, come over here," she commanded. There was a new sultry tone to her voice.

Robotically, I walked over until I was standing next to the bed. I couldn't take my eyes off her breasts, which were covered only by the thin sheet.

"Mel . . . I—" My mouth wouldn't form any coherent words.

"Shhhhh," she quieted me gently. "Kevin . . . I want you to do something for me. I want you . . . Just for tonight . . . Non-committal, friends-with-benefits sex."

Of course, I wanted more than that. I had since we were about twelve. But in that moment, I'd have agreed to anything if it involved both of us being naked.

"I know that even though you've done just about everything for the two of us: this room, the plane tickets . . . you'd sleep out on the couch without me even asking. You're that kind of guy. You always were," she continued. "And I appreciate that. I really do. I'm not asking this because I'm paying you back for anything . . . I just . . ."