This is a collaboration between me, eureka twilighter and sheri17awhile…my Soul Sister!

Come join Emily and Camille as they meet Emmett and James and their lives turn upside down. It is the time of The Beatles, love-ins, protest rallies, bra burnings, drugs, concerts, and Viet Nam. Will our girls be able to remain "good girls"?

Emmett and James belong to SM. I just borrowed them to play with Emily and Cammile.

The Summer of 1966

Prologue:

September 2010.

Emily

What am I gonna do without her, Em?" I cried, burying my face against my husband's broad chest. "We've seen or talked to each other every day for the past forty-seven years."

"I know, Babe," he comforted, tightening his arms around me. "I've known James just about as long."

He looked over to see his best friend standing, head bowed, next to the casket that held the body of his beloved wife, Cam. Everyone, except Emmett and me, had already left the cemetery.

Suddenly, James threw back his head, and let out a long, agonized scream; one that slowly turned into a wailing howl.

We hurried to him; Em enveloping his friend in his massive arms. As I ran my hand comfortingly up and down his arm, as tears coursed down our three distraught faces.

Eventually, James calmed, and we turned to head back to the waiting limousine. The trip back was passing in sorrowful silence when James shouted for the driver to stop. The driver slammed on the brakes, and came to a stop on the shoulder of the road. James bolted from the vehicle, followed closely by Emmett. I followed slowly, and watched as they scrambled down the embankment to the beach below. I gasped when I realized that it was the same beach where Cam and I had first met James and Emmett, forty-four years before.

I closed my eyes, and leaned back against the car. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I pulled my phone out of my bag, and called my daughter, Jenny, letting her know to go ahead and start feeding everyone waiting for us at Cam and James's house.

"Tell them not to worry, Honey, we'll be there in a while." I instructed.

"Okay, mama," she replied. "How is Uncle James doing? I'm really worried about him, since he'll be all alone now."

"He'll be okay, sweetie," I sad sadly. "It will just take some time. I may have to call for Danny to come and get us. I'm sure the driver needs to get back."

After closing my phone, I turned to the driver and told him he could go, that my son-in-law was coming for us.

When he had gone, I stepped over to the boulders forming the guardrails along the side of the road, and sat down staring down at Em and James. They had taken their shoes and socks off, rolled up their pant legs, and were standing ankle deep in the water, looking out to the sea; just as they had been the first day that Cam and I saw them. The memories began to flood my mind.

June 1966

Chapter 1

EPOV

Camille Caravelli and I, Emily Russo, had met on the first day of our freshman year of high school in 1963. We had clicked instantly and became inseparable; doing everything together, from homework to rock and roll, and everything in between. We called ourselves 'soul sisters'.

We were both half Italian, and while she was also half Cherokee Indian, my other half was Irish. Cam, as she called herself…insisting that Camille was her grandmother…was a small, slender, curvy blonde, with striking grey eyes that drew you in instantly. I was taller by a couple of inches and fuller figured, with auburn hair, green eyes, and a plump full lipped mouth. Becoming permanent fixtures in each other's families, our grandmothers taught us everything about family, cooking, and being a good wife. We would laugh, hoping that we would someday teach our own granddaughters the same skills.

We were sitting in our physical science class on Friday, November 22, 1963; the day the superintendent announced over the intercom that President Kennedy had been killed by an assassin's bullet. We clung together, crying with the rest of the students and teachers. It was such an emotional time, and we were there for each other.

We both fell in love with the British Invasion: the Beatles being my favorites, and hers, the Rolling Stones.

We were heavily into the music scene, constantly attending many of the concerts offered in California. I had talked her into attending the Beatles concerts in August of 1964 and 1965, and I went with her to the Stones concerts, and many others.

Cam was always a little more daring than me, and sometimes led me into trouble with my parents. But, I always willingly went along with any and all of her schemes. She was the first to try marijuana, coaxing me to try it, too. As a result, we laughed and ate everything in sight that night. It was the beginning of many experiments to come.

We were in the middle of the Age of Aquarius the day that we decided to head to Redondo Beach for the small music festival being held there. It was 1966; we had just completed our junior year of high school, and our lives were about to be turned upside down by two incredible boys.

On June 30th of 1966, Cam and I were headed to Redondo Beach for the third annual festival of local bands, with the promise of a surprise 'big name group'. That alone was an enticement for us. Who could it be? We speculated, but knew that our band name guesses were too popular to be there. Money was important to those groups, and the local promoters really couldn't afford to pay for them. It was, after all, a 'free event' on the beach. But still we wondered.

The show would be starting at eight that evening, and we had decided to be there by noon to get a good spot on the sand.

"Come on, Cam," I called, irritated. "Your hair looks fine; we are goin' to the beach, y'know!"

"I'm coming!" She called back.

I heard her rubber thongs flip flopping on the marble floor of her parent's hallway. She appeared in the doorway to the living room, wearing a short, red crocheted cover-up over her red and white striped bikini. She'd finally pulled her thick blonde hair up into a high ponytail with her full bangs framing her face and brushing the tops of her lashes. Heavily applied black eyeliner framed her grey eyes, with black mascara coating her lashes. A swipe of blush and a brush of red tinted lip balm stained her lips. She carried a large straw beach bag, containing all of her important items.

"Okay, soul sister, I'm ready.' she said with a grin, slipping on her signature Chanel sunglasses. "Let's go."

"You look bitchin'!" I said, grinning as we hurried out to my car. "You're gonna have to fight the boys away from you today."

"You're no slouch yourself, Em," she replied, climbing into the passenger seat of my 1965, blue, Shelby Cobra Mustang convertible. It had been my sixteenth birthday present from my grandparents. "Looking like that, you're gonna have your pick of the boys."

I was wearing a royal blue eyelet, sleeveless, mid-thigh cover-up over a matching bikini, with white thongs, and carrying a white canvas bag containing all my necessities. My short auburn hair was parted on the side and swept across one eye, framing my face to points at my chin, and was cut high in the back. My makeup echoed Cam's, making my green eyes pop.

Slipping on my huge white framed Dior sunglasses, I slid into the driver's seat and, with a grin at my best friend, we were soon headed down the highway to Redondo Beach; The Who blaring from the radio.

We pulled into the parking lot near the pier, and were directed by members of the event's staff to the cordoned off beach area down on the sand. A wooden platform had been erected near the pilings of the pier, with tall lighting towers spaced around it.

It seemed we were some of the first attendees to arrive, and were able to find an area front and center of the platform; just back from the roped off area. Having grabbed a large quilt from the trunk of the car, Cam helped me spread it over our spot on the sand, and we settled down.

There was a small portable concession stand nearby, and I offered to go get us some drinks while Cam stayed with our things.

"Hey, I haven't eaten and I'm hungry," she said, reaching into her bag, and pulling out her wallet. "Would you bring me a double order of strips with a few packages of hot sauce?"

"Sure," I replied, waving away her proffered money. "I'll be right back."

As I walked across the hot sand, my stomach began to growl, and I realized that I hadn't eaten either. Strips-corn tortillas cut into strips, and deep fried 'til they were semi crispy, then salted-sounded really good. Cam loved her hot sauce, but I didn't like my mouth to burn. I wanted to taste what I was eating.

I had just paid for the strips and sodas, when I heard a deep booming laugh behind me. I turned to see the most breathtaking boy I'd ever seen. He was very tall, maybe six-foot-five, and very tanned and muscular, without an ounce of fat on him. He had dark curly hair that looked like it needed a trim. But a lot of the guys were growing their hair like the Beatles. Maybe he was, too.

I stood there ogling him when suddenly he turned and our eyes met. I gasped in embarrassment, but not before noticing his clear blue gaze, and the disarming dimples that creased his cheeks, surrounding his smiling, pouty lips. He leaned over to say something to his gorgeous blonde friend, never taking his eyes off of me. His friend grinned at their shared comment, and I turned and hurried back to Cam.

I sat down next to her and noticed my hands were shaking, as I handed her a basket of strips and a coke. She quirked a brow at me.

"What's wrong, Em?" She asked in concern.

I just saw the boy I'm going marry," I said with a sigh. "Oh, my God, Cam, he's gorgeous, tall and broad with great hair and blue eyes, and he has the most delicious dim…" my voiced trailed away as I saw him pass by, heading for the water.

CPOV

"The boy you're going to marry?" I questioned my best friend. I had always been the one to act on impulse, blaming my Gemini influence, whereas Em had always preferred to think things through and proceed with caution. "Marry?" I repeated the question. As the two boys walked by, I added, "I sure hope you're talking about the dark haired guy, because the blonde is a fox, and exactly MY type."

"Of course, I mean the dark haired, gorgeous hunk with those bitchin' dimples. I think he gave me a thrill, and he didn't even touch me," Em sighed, eyes fixed on the two guys, who were now paddling their boards out to catch the next good wave.

"Surfers," I exclaimed. "You know I've always wanted to date a surfer. I knew hanging out at the beach would pay off someday. Time to shed the cover-ups, and show off our assets. As my Grandma Camille says, 'If ya got it, flaunt it.' And she always knows what she's talking about."

"I've always been a little self-conscious about my big boobs, but maybe they're not a curse after all," Em giggled. "My brother always notices girls with big ones."

"All guys like big boobs, Em," I stated matter-of-factly, suddenly wishing my thirty-four C's were Em's thirty-six double D's. "And that guy gave you a look when he passed by us. I think he really digs you."

Em blushed a deep crimson. She was a little on the shy, reserved side, even when it was just her and me. I could always talk her into going along with me on most everything, but she didn't quite have the wild streak that came naturally to me. Must be the Indians are more adventurous than the Irish, since we're both also half Italian.

We watched Em's future groom execute a perfect ride, ending up on shore. The next suitable wave brought my blonde stud muffin toward us, hanging ten and shooting the curl. We sat riveted in place, practically salivating at the sight of them.

The area roped off for the concert was beginning to fill up – and there was plenty of bikini-clad competition. I pulled the elastic band out of my hair, allowing it to cascade down my back. It was time to introduce ourselves to the objects of our attention…

"Oh, crapola!" I shouted, jumping up and charging toward the beach. "A waps!"

I ran smack dab into the blonde, nearly knocking him down. He reached out, grabbing me in one arm while his other arm was holding his surfboard upright.

"Sorry." I flashed what I thought was a seductive smile, and offered, "I'm so afraid of anything that flies. And that was a giant waps. And they bite."

"You mean a wasp?" he corrected, giving me a toothy grin. "I can understand why he'd be interested in you."

"Really?" I feigned surprise, and willed myself to blush.

"Really," he assured me. "But if you'd like, I can protect you from flying things. They don't bother me."

His friend had joined us, and rolled his eyes at the last comment. As he stared at Em, who was still sitting on our blanket, he commented to us, "Yeah, James has a way with boobs, er, I mean bugs." His face was instantly the color of my bikini.

James and I looked at each other and broke out into peals of laughter.

"Are you staying for the concert? We have the perfect spot, and some extra space, if you want to join us," I extended an invitation.

"Yes, and yes," James said with a smile. "We are staying, and we'd love to join you and your friend."

Turning toward Em, I winked at her, and mouthed, "Oh my god," as the three of us headed her way. When we arrived back at our blanket, James and I sat down.

'Em, this is James. James, my best friend Emily Russo. Oh, and I'm Cam Caravelli," I said, introducing us. "And you are..?"

"Emmett…Emmett McCarty," the muscle man with the dark hair filled in the blank. "Hi, Emily."

"You can call me Em," she said, with a coquettish smile. "Everyone does."

"And you can call me Em." He flashed his dimples, and caused Emily to gasp and blush brightly. "Everyone does."

"Seems like we all have nicknames, except you. And James is kind of formal." I pondered a moment before speaking again. 'You don't look like a 'Jim,' and definitely not like a 'Jimmy'. So, do you mind if I just call you 'J' instead?"

"No, I don't mind at all. You can call me "J". Nobody else does," he directed his statement at Emmett, who nodded in agreement.

Well wasn't this just exactly what I had been hoping for: Meeting a cute, sexy guy at the beach, and maybe ending up with an angora-covered class ring on my left hand. I stretched out on the blanket to deepen my tan, and smiled at how well my plan had gone so far.

During the course of the day, Emmett and James showed off their abilities on their surfboards, catching the attention of most of the other girls at the beach. A few of them attempted to flirt with the two guys we had claimed as ours, but seemingly without notice. Em and J seemed to be happy with us.

It was finally time for the concert, and everyone was ready for the music to begin. Several local bands played, and paved the way for the headliner surprise band. As we got to our feet in anticipation, J slipped his arm around my shoulder, giving me a brief hug, before he took hold of my hand, squeezing it in his. I looked at him with stars in my eyes, and gave his hand a squeeze in return.

The announcer grabbed the microphone, loudly proclaiming, "And now, the moment you've all been waiting for. Ladies and gentlemen, The Beach Boys!"

Everyone jumped up and down, screaming and whistling. The Beach Boys had, at one time, been just another local Redondo band. Now they were a major attraction. They ran onto the stage, and immediately broke into song. "Let's go surfin now, everybody's learnin' how, come on a surfari with me…"

Em and I were experts at the Watusi, and could wiggle our hips like native Hawaiians. We danced to the beat, accidently-on-purpose bumping into Emmett and J a few times, with our wild gyrations. I tossed my head back and forth, showing off my mane of waist-length blonde hair, while Em playfully pulled strands of her auburn locks across her cheeks, accenting her emerald-green eyes. Our guys were duly impressed, and it showed.

As The Beach Boys began their famous close harmony on "In My Room," J pulled me into a tight hold, and we began swaying to the music. He softly kissed my forehead, then Eskimo-kissed my nose. I stood on my tip-toes and gave him a peck on the lips. He drew back, searching my face for permission to give me a real kiss. I eagerly answered his silent question with an encouraging nod and Mona Lisa smile.

His kiss sent a lightning bolt from my lips to my core. Wetness pooled between my legs instantly; a feeling and sensation I'd never experienced before. I parted my lips, allowing his tongue to probe my mouth, and dance with my tongue. The song ended long before our kiss, causing giggles from Em and Em.

J took me by the hand, and led me to the parking lot. At first, I thought we were going to Em's baby blue Cobra; instead, J stuck his key into the driver's door of a racing green GTO with a black vinyl top. He flipped the seat-back forward, opening the way to the back seat.

Em and I had promised each other we would be virgins on our wedding nights. We were proudly among the ranks of "the good girls who don't do it," and were both plenty popular in school anyway. Next year would be our senior year, and we would enjoy our status on campus: me as head cheer leader, and Em as ASB president.

We had devised a chart, of sorts, based on baseball. Kissing and petting fully dressed equaled first base; exposed boobs-second base; his hands in your pants was a triple; and going all the way, a home run. So far, both of us had only hit singles. I had a feeling that once I climbed into the back seat of that GTO, with the cutest guy I'd ever seen, I'd be turning left as I ran past first base.

Turning to face J, I bit my lower lip, and managed a crooked smile. "I'm a virgin," I said, apologetically.

The bulge in his bathing suit wilted.

A/N Hope you enjoyed the beginning of our tale of nostalgia. We are having a ball writing this!

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Thanks,

Ellen and Sheri xx