Now my life really made no sense. I was a boy who went to college dressed like a girl, and now I was in love with a boy who was not interested in boys – but he loved me. I was so embarrassed about what I’d said to Mel that I never wanted to see him again. At the same time, I desperately wanted to spend more time with him. More time leading to what? I didn’t even want to think about it.

Alice and I had grown to be more than landlord and tenant. She was more like the big sister I never had. Even so, it was with a great deal of embarrassment that I responded to her question that night after I poured olive oil instead of dish soap into a sink full of dirty dishes.

“Morgan, you seem unusually distracted, even for you.”

“I guess I am.”

“Care to share why?”

“I suppose it’s because I’m in love.”

“That’s great, dear. Is it Mary?”

“No, it's not! It’s … It’s a boy.”

“That’s wonderful dear!”

“No, it’s not! I’m in love with a boy!”

“What’s wrong with that? You’ve kissed a boy before and told me that you flirted a bit on your trip – even said you wouldn't mind dating one.”

“Well, I didn’t date him. He’s supposed to be my friend, and he told me he couldn’t be my friend anymore … because he loves me. And, … and I … told him I loved him too! … and now … now everything is ruined!”

“I really don’t understand, Morgan. Why is everything ruined? You said you might want to date a boy ‘as long as things didn’t go too far.’”

“Yeah. Well, I meant some boy I didn’t know. One that I didn’t care about – someone I could make out with, and it wouldn’t matter … but, Mel … Mel is different. I care about him … he is … was … my friend, and now it’s ruined!”

“How is it ruined? I mean now you can date someone you really care about, and who cares about you.”

“Yeah, but what about when he gets to … you know, and finds out I’m a boy?”

“Well, you have to tell him before he does.”

“I already did at the beginning, and he didn’t care. He was my friend anyway.”

“Well, then he likes boys. No problem!”

“But, that’s it! He told me he doesn’t like boys. I mean, he’s not gay. Hell, I’m not gay!”

“I’m beginning to see. Neither of you is gay, but you love each other.”

“Yep.”

“Well, maybe you should stop trying to put it in a box, and just go with the fact that you two love each other … and see where it goes.”

I hugged Alice and kissed her on the cheek, but by the time I got back to my room, I had no idea what I was going to do.

In the morning, I spent extra time on my makeup and chose a mini and heels to wear to school. Mel and I had no classes together, but met for lunch as usual. When he saw how I was dressed, he couldn’t take his eyes off of me.

“Morgan, you look wonderful today.”

“I wanted to look special for you, … dear.” I couldn’t help but blush at the word. Still, I meant it.

Mel just smiled. We went for our usual walk by the stream, and found a secluded spot to kiss. Soon, both of us wanted more.

“What if we go for a ride? I could show you our vineyard. I know a great view.”

Mel’s car wasn't a chick magnet. It was a tan Volvo SUV that used to be his mom’s and was about twenty years old. Still, it was clean, and more than adequate to the twisting road that led east into the surrounding hills. After about twenty minutes, we turned in under a “Two Rivers Vineyard” sign and passed row after row of vines. A house and outbuildings appeared on our right, but we turned left onto a winding track that hung on the edge of a ravine. As we rounded a curve, the ground broadened to reveal an outdoor table and the stone foundation of what had once been a cabin. Sycamores and live oaks shaded the spot, and, once I opened the door, I could hear water splashing.

“This is the old homestead. Why don’t you take a look around.”

“Ah, thanks, I will.” I followed the splashing sound to a small brook with a 6 or 7 foot waterfall, and knew instantly why some pioneers might build their cabin here.

“What’d ya think?”

“It’s beautiful here. Thanks for bringing me.”

“Yeah, I love it. I used to camp up here. … Come on, I’ll show you the view.”

He led me to the edge of a steep bluff. Below it were the orderly rows of his parents' vineyard, beyond them, rows of hills receding into haze and, perhaps, a glimpse of the sea.

“This is a tremendous spot, Mel.”

He spread out a blanket for us. Soon we were doing more than sitting. Mel’s hands were all over me when I suddenly realized that one was under my skirt, about to reach my crotch. I didn’t want him to stop, but I urgently wanted him to stop.

“No, please, not there!”

Mel looked … I don’t know what. Disappointed? Suddenly awakened? I don’t think he knew, either.

“Sorry,” he said in a small voice.

“Don’t be. I’ll show you something.” I unbuttoned my blouse and removed my bra. There, pointing out into the warm air, were my breasts – breasts I knew belonged on a twelve-year-old girl rather than an eighteen-year-old boy.

“They’re beautiful Morgan. May I touch them?”

“Yes, I want you to,” I said in a husky voice.

Ever so softly, he did. We were sitting up now, so I nestled back against him. He took them in his hands and began making love to them while kissing and gently biting my neck. I was lost in his love when he suddenly stiffened, and realizing what was happening, I too lost control.

“Oh my God! … That was wonderful, Mel.”

I turned and kissed him with all my passion.

When we finally broke, he said, “I don’t care if you’re a boy or a girl, I love you!”

I lay back against him, bare-breasted, until the sun disappeared behind a ridge and the air cooled, as it does in the hills.

As Mel drove me home, I realized that I’d made orgasmic love to a boy, maybe not in the usual way, but I did not regret it one bit.