You just learned that you’ll be moving back to the East Coast at the end of the summer, reclaimed by your father after being unloaded on an aunt. Liza determines to be your “first girl,” and so you two get on your motorcycle and head north toward Carmel and their mutual deflowering: two virgins who are also bland ciphers, notwithstanding your skinny cigars and studly Triumph or Liza’s forthright sexual curiosity.

Currently, you two arrived at a little motel ways down the road, in the middle of the land, with a gas station nearby too. She gets off of your bike and walks with you hand in hand towards the managers office to get a room for you both.