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🎼🎵🎵🎶🎵 🎸Bellavia.
Spiceseeker.

Whether it be brass or woodwind, the first time a virgin player takes an instrument to her lips is always special. However, a brand new mouthpiece also can provide a lesser, yet similar degree of wonder to experienced players.

Though Tessa served as my replacement mouthpiece, she would sound her first notes on me...

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8:30 PM

I like Tessa. If only she were better looking...

The massive, hour-long Space Mountain lines of summer had shriveled in the frigid mid-winter air, to a flaccid ten minute's wait. Plenty of time to know my girlfriend better. "Tessa, how long have you played?"

"Umm, three years."

"You play well."

Her seating position in the flute section says otherwise...

"You're just being nice. But, umm, thank you, Ray."

My girlfriend has manners!

I examined my fingernails, not knowing what to say. She looked up at me, "Umm, you play beautifully. I heard you trying out for first chair in September. Ray, the way you made that piece flow and come alive was amazing. Why did Jennifer get the position instead of you?"

I took Tessa's hand in response to the compliments. "Her technique is much better than mine. I can't play as fast."

Tessa stroked my palm with her thumb. "That's not everything. She's kind of...umm, mechanical. Don't you think so?"

I felt the same way about bug-eyed, sandy-blonde Jennifer, but we had developed a friendly rivalry over the past two years, as well as a partnership in mentoring the less skilled players in our section. After graduation, with a different dynamic in place, I planned to ask her out, as I found her somewhat attractive, in an earthy way. Not wanting to say anything negative about my talented friend, I changed the subject. "Tessa, what's your favorite song we've played?"

"Umm... Bellavia. I like that one."

I nodded and smiled sincerely at her. "That's my favorite, too."

A surprising feeling of affection for Tessa peeked over the barren wasteland of my emotions, and I couldn't help but sing a verse.

My girlfriend and I have our own song!

The Chuck Mangione instrumental featured a flute section, so it was no surprise Tessa enjoyed it. But the beautiful melody constantly went through my head, and I had played it on every instrument I picked up. Tessa's appreciation of the song gave us a tiny bond, and made me beam with satisfaction at having chosen her.

My girlfriend's quality rose far above stupid, stuck up Natasha, who probably didn't even know the name of the tune. That no-talent slut didn't even play an instrument like brilliant Tessa. No, Natasha just twirled a tall flag while...

...looking so fucking hot in her little uniform, with the short white skirt and red panties. She always hikes them up into the crack of her incredible ass. My God, it's so sexy, the way it curves out over her legs. Ohhh those legs, in the high heel boots those girls wear. Damn, I want to...

"Umm, Ray? Is something wrong?"

My face had mindlessly gone through a variety of expressions while comparing the two girls, and had momentarily settled on disappointment when I looked at Tessa. Offering an awkward smile didn't seem to help.

Don't worry Tessa, your boyfriend only has unfocused, double-visioning eyes for you...

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She still showed signs of anxiety, and kept looking around, as if deciding whether to stay or not. Seeing her confusion and nervous fidgeting, unexpectedly but powerfully excited me.

Where did THAT come from?

It was the first time I had the unmistakable physical reaction to a woman's fear, but far from the last. I worried about what it meant, but Tessa didn't make any effort to leave, even when I leaned against a wall with my hands behind me. She was free to go. Sort of...

Before she could reconsider, I grabbed her hand, and pulled her close. The line entered a dark tunnel, so I took the bottle out of my band jacket and offered it to her. "Take very small sips."

She sniffed at the cheap rum, then looked up at me with pleading eyes.
Putting my two semesters of Español to use, I crooned, "Sé valiente, Mi Chica."

Tessa looked down in shame. "Umm, I don't know Spanish, Ray. My mom insists we speak English all the time."

That made sense. Tessa's thirty-year-old mother taught creative writing at our school. When I had taken the course two years before, her petite Latin beauty made it a class I looked forward to almost as much as my music programs. Tessa's father, on the other hand, faced the world as a fifty-something, obese, balding, mutton-chopped, red haired ogre. Clearly, their marriage arose out of something more than love. In 1980, many Southern California Latinos looked to blend with the supermajority white population, and a stigma still remained on speaking Spanish among them. My friend Gustavo's father had explained, "Spanish is the language of poverty. Gus is not going to handicap himself with it."

Sensing that the "Have bravery, girlfriend," translation sounded lame, I simply urged, "Go on, Tessa."

My affirming nod, along with a gesture to drink, put her over the edge, and she complied. Of course, she swallowed too much, then shook like a wet dog when the harsh taste assaulted her tongue and the 151 proof magic spell burned her throat. I advised, "Take it easy, uhh...Babe."
The endearment escaped my lips before I could stop it.

Our dance to the song had left the word on my mind, but I had never said anything like it to a girl. Smooth, popular guys confidently called girls affectionate names, but coming from nerdy, awkward, introverted me, "Babe" sounded even cheesier than it felt.

Tessa recovered, waved her hand at me, and laughed, "Babe?"

For the first time, she looked completely relaxed, and I stroked her arm in delight when she took two more small sips, then handed the bottle back to me. I took a quick swallow, then pocketed it, as we stepped into the loading area, with my hand in hers.

My girlfriend is funny!

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On the dark roller coaster, Tessa seemed to have accepted that she and I were somehow together, even though the meaning had to be a mystery to her. My desire to have a girlfriend for the night didn't include caring about how she felt about it, so I continued to show uninvited light affection towards her.

On the long ratcheting climb that comically simulated lift-off, I happily sighed when Tessa met my arm around her with a squeezing hand on my leg and her snuggly head on my chest. At the end of the ride, my index finger reached out to softly brush her cheek and lips. The bashful smile with fluttering eyelids on her wide, brown face warmed my heart a bit. Perhaps I wasn't so bad at this romance stuff, when I just improvised, and 'did whatever I wanted.' My counselor probably would not have approved.

Fuck you Mr. Browning, my girlfriend loves it!

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While exiting the ride, I looked hard to find something lovely about Tessa, but everything except her hair whimpered the unfortunate theme of... plain. A moderate degree of prognathism gave her a slightly simian appearance, common with even pretty Mexican girls, but Tessa's main flaw arose from her features' design for utility rather than beauty, like the faucets and cabinets in a cheap apartment.

Two unremarkable black eyes showed little of Tessa's interior, a small, slightly crooked nose didn't flatter her circular face, and the thin lips covering a narrow mouth failed to entice me. Although her skin looked smooth, even, and free from acne, the medium brown color seemed a bit off, as if it came from a mis-tinted can of paint. A lack of makeup didn't do her any favors, but her parents probably didn't allow it at her young age of fourteen. A good hairstyle and cosmetics might have her looking... cute. Pretty would still be a stretch.

As for her figure, despite being over twenty pounds overweight, Tessa's chest showed little benefit from the extra baggage. However, the thick red band jackets we all wore hid most of her shape. A mildly flabby, medium-sized waist flared into wide, fleshy, curved hips and thick stubby legs, which she had stretched tight jeans over, so I settled on that area as potentially titillating. I had no intention of peeling those pants off, though rumor had it Mexican girls didn't stop once you got them going.

I comforted myself with the fact she wasn't actually ugly or strange looking, and my intoxication kept me from being embarrassed to be seen with her. Best of all, she seemed to tolerate, if not enjoy, my romantic overtures. Tipsy Tessa appealed to me more than I had hoped for, and I gave her hand an extra squeeze as we entered the brisk night that had set up shop during our boozy interstellar journey.

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Passing by the space themed bathroom, Tessa tugged my sleeve, "Ray, I'll be right back."

She took a few steps, then turned back with concern in her eyes, "You'll still be here, right?"

How sweet, my girlfriend is insecure!

"Sure, Tessa, but don't take too long. We have to be on the bus in a couple of hours."

Her head tilted at me, in a cute sort of way. "Umm... Ray? What are we doing for two hours?"

She caught me off guard, "Uhh, well... Tessa...you and I. Ahhh... we're going to..."

Fuck?

No, I'm not ready for that, not here, not with... Tessa. No.

"...We're just going to have... fun, Tessa."

I licked my lips, offered a winking shrug, and she laughed at me.
"Have. Fun?"

She returned my nod with a goofy smile. "Okay."

Tessa strolled into the bathroom, as I absentmindedly toyed with a plant behind me. I couldn't help but notice her happy steps, whatever that meant. My dulled curiosity mused about how people gave off so many different involuntary non-verbal cues, then I wondered if she had figured out what I was doing with her, and how she felt about it, until I felt a familiar headache from the attempt at empathy.

I suspected that our kiss would be her first. Would I spoil what should be a special moment for her?

My first kiss had been the year before, when a friend of my older sister gave me a short kissing lesson at the school musical cast party, where I had played in the pit orchestra. Ellen had said, "Ray, you need to be ready for when you're with a girlfriend, so I'm going to show you what to do."

Compared to that, Tessa's fairy tale, swept-off-her-feet treatment should be a dream come true, and I decided to make the rest of our time just as magical for her.

Princess Tessa, it's your happily-ever-fuckin'-after!

Only one thing spoiled the beauty of it. She was with me, instead of a boy she had a crush on.

I bet Tessa has a crush on Jason, who probably has his big, strong hands all over Natasha's delicious ass. Just like I'm going to have my slender, delicate fingers all over Tessa's wonderf...uh... big ass.

The symmetry of the situation brought a drooling grin to my drunken lips. The Bacardi express had left Buzzedville, and was hurtling towards Sloshedburg.

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"Ray? What, umm, are you doing?"

Tessa's return startled me out of the haze, and I removed my hand from the gardenia bush, then brought a finger to her nose. She obediently curled her fingers around my hand, and took a deep sniff. "Mmm, I love that."

I broke off a branch with a blossom, placed it in her hair, then held her to me so I could smell the sweet fragrance. I must have seen a man doing that to a woman in a movie, as it didn't seem like something I would come up with on my own. Tessa looked up at me, opened her mouth to speak, changed her mind, then resumed our romantic embrace.

Thank you, Tessa. I'm not ready to talk yet, either.

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