It was not long after I turned 18, I already had a license to drive and my father lent me his car to go to the rehearsal we had with an amateur theater company in which he participated.

A little before finishing the essay I received a call from him. His name was Polo and he had me crazy; my low self-esteem and I could not believe that a boy as handsome as he had noticed us. He called me saying that his grandparents, with whom he lived, had him locked up, he did not tell me why. He just told me he needed help to escape. I did not care why he had been punished, he was a rebel and I would do everything possible to help him continue to be. I would have done anything for him. That’s the way love is when you’re young … I remember that.

I called my father and told him that the essay would be extended and that I would probably stay at the house of a companion so as not to drive tired. I lie like I’m the best actor in the world. I got in the car and started driving. The house of the grandparents of Polo was in Santo Domingo, a coastal area about 1 hour and 40 minutes from Santiago, where I was rehearsing. I was guided by the road signs, and intuition, at that time we still did not have GPS on cell phones, we could not locate each other as easily as we do today.

Finally I hit the spot, turn off the lights of the car but leave the engine on, call Polo’s cell phone, let it ring twice and cut. That was the signal, and then I waited. Suddenly, as in the movies from behind the wall of the patio of the house, he appeared booting a bag and landed in the middle of the street. A couple of seconds later Polo appeared jumping the wall, when trying to go down the side of the street he hit the ground hard, but he got up with the pain, something that made him even more sexy to my eyes.

Let’s go! Let’s move on! He shouted while he ran towards and opened the door to go up, I turned on the lights I put the first gear and we left. What laughter we threw, we shouted howling with happiness. We bought some beers and we went to the beach, we were alone, walking in the dark, laughing at the stars, singing with the waves, kissing us with sand, touching and lapping the salt of the bodies.

We slept holding each other in the car to give us warmth. The next day we woke up with the blows in the window of the parking attendant saying that he would start charging us. We went back to Santiago together, we still had a good time but then we stopped seeing each other. That is part of young love too.

Sometimes we have met at a party, and every time we see each other we drink for that night, for that getaway and for the pleasure we got on that beach.

—- Text & Photos by Javi Huertas (INSTAGRAM: @JAVIHERTASPHOTO)

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