Betty rolls to a stop, almost like she knows exactly where the parking bumper is. I’ve been to this beach on more occasions than I’d like to admit over the last few months. Always looking at the ocean for answers that aren’t there, and always on my own. Well, except for Betty. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if my truck started speaking, just so she could question my life choices. Fuck knows I’ve been questioning them enough myself.

I climb out of the truck and pat her hood. “I know,” I sigh. “I’m lost, Betty, and you know it, too. Hopefully, we’re the only ones.” Speaking to my truck isn’t entirely unusual. Talking to it about my life is an all-time low. Pity party for one right here folks. Chuckling at my stupidity, I beep the locks and trudge through the deep sand until it flattens slightly as I near the water. There’s something calming about the sound of the ocean at this time of night. The dark sky only adds to the ambiance. Quiet, empty, peaceful… lonely.

My jean jacket is fleece lined, but the wind is picking up speed. Pulling a beanie from my pocket, I slip it over my head then draw the jacket around myself tightly before fastening a few buttons. I slip my hands into the front pockets of my jeans, hunch my shoulders forward and brace against the wind.

In the distance a bonfire roars, which isn’t an unusual sight. We’re at the beginning of summer, the days are hot but the nights can be cold. It has to be after eleven now, and tonight is definitely a cold one. Still, it won’t stop parties on the beach, and with the bonfire going strong, the other college students probably can’t feel the cold like I can.

Smiling, I think back to the beach parties I’ve been to. I shake my head. There’s something wrong with the way I think lately. Everything presents itself as though it happened years before, my thoughts weave themselves in a way that makes me feel like my life is over. Like I’m done. The logical part of my brain kicks in, and I curse myself for being a dumb shit.

But damn these thoughts. I don’t know where they come from or why I can’t seem to get over myself. I opened up when I told the truth. I became vulnerable, only I don’t know who to. Not one person I care about has treated me any differently than before. I’ve had no negativity from loved ones. Nobody’s shunned me or turned their backs on me. Except for my dad, and he’s not part of my life anymore anyway.

It’s me. I’m the one who’s been acting strangely. But I don’t know why. It’s like there’s a leaky tap in my brain, and no matter what I do it won’t stop dripping. I’m corroding on the inside.

But how do I stop the poison when it’s coming from within me?

I drag my hands from the warmth of the pockets and reach inside the jacket for my iPod. Slipping my earbuds in, I search for a song, smiling when Jason Walker ‘Everybody Lies’ starts playing. I take one more glance over at the bonfire watching the normal college students jumping around and laughing before I walk away from them. My pace isn’t rushed, taking my time as I wander a little further down the beach. The only light now comes from the moon, which is high in the sky and so bright you could be forgiven for believing someone was up there with a massive spotlight aimed downward.

I reach my safe place, a small collection of rocks, and turn to look back at the bonfire. It’s far enough away I feel better, safe in my own company. Seating myself on one of the rocks, I lay back on the sloped one behind me. They’re all fairly big, at least three of them are more like boulders, so I’m reasonably shielded from the wind. I decide to pull off my jacket and roll it up using it as a pillow for my head. I lay back again, so I’m almost horizontal and pull the beanie over my eyes, wrapping my arms across my body. I’m glad that I, at least, put a Henley on before coming out, it gives me a little more warmth than a regular tee would.

I can smell the ocean, the salt tickles my nostrils in a safely familiar scent. Ashes Remain ‘On My Own’ starts playing, and my muscles tighten as I listen. My abdomen feels heavy like there’s a medicine ball sitting on it. I try to soften my body, but my mind is another thing. One song moves into another, and slowly, my body and mind find each other and drift together.

I’m jolted awake when I feel a knock to my shin. Pulling my beanie up, away from my eyes, I realize it’s still dark. Someone’s standing in front of me, but I can’t see who as my vision’s a little blurry from sleep. I pop the earphones out.

A deep chuckle rumbles from the blur and skips over every inch of my skin. Absently, I realize I’m still lying down, and my Henley has traveled up my stomach, showing off my lower abs. While I wouldn’t usually mind too much, it’s fricking freezing, and I’m still trying to get my brain and body to function.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb your sleep, but you do realize its two a.m. dude.” The guy’s voice is deep, just like his chuckle, and I can hear the humor in his tone.

Scratching the back of my head, and pulling my beanie off completely, I do an ab curl and sit myself up on the rocks, rubbing my eyes to clear the drowsiness.

When I reopen them something happens. I look up, taking real notice of the guy standing in front of me. I blink, again and again, thinking I’m dreaming.

“You okay?” he asks, amber eyes draw me in without even trying. My heart comes alive for the first time in so long. I feel like I’m in a real-life version of the second Matrix film. You know the one where Neo puts his hand into Trinity’s chest, then brings her back to life by pumping her heart in his fingers. For me, in this moment, there’s an affinity I suddenly feel with the film.

I breathe, and for the first time in ages, my chest relaxes while the weight slides off me. Finally, I can catch my breath. He’s given that to me, and I’m shocked and overwhelmed all at the same time.

“Hey,” he murmurs, narrowing his eyes. Concern—or maybe it’s confusion—is etched around the edges.

“Sorry.” I shake my head and stand up to my full height, matching us almost exactly. “I must have dozed off. Didn’t mean to stay out this late.”

“It happens.” He shrugs with a grin.

“What are you doing out here?” I ask, ignoring the fact I haven’t even asked him for his name yet.

“Can’t always sleep. I like to walk the beach at night.”

“Caden,” I say holding out my hand.

“Casper.” He lifts his chin, but also grips my hand. His handshake is firm but gentle, and I try desperately not to have a reaction to him. I don’t want to hope he’s gay. I’m not sure why, but I think if he were straight it would crush me.

I’ve spent a lot of time in online chatrooms researching the gay community. A lot of guys I’ve made friends with online say you can tell when you meet someone—whether or not they’re gay. I’m not sure that sensor works on me. I’ve not got it wrong so far, but I’m scared of making a mistake and pissing the wrong person off.

“You parked around here?”

I nod and point back up the beach. “Over at the stonewall.”

“Right. I’m going that way,” he replies, and we fall comfortably into step alongside each other.

I sneak glances at him. He’s got a pair of black joggers and sneakers on. His jacket is one of those leather types with gray jersey sleeves and a hood. He’s wearing a baseball cap backward, and some light brown hair pokes out from the front. He’s quiet, and I wonder how much I can ask him without being rude.

“You always choose the beach for your walks?” I question.

His eyes flash my way briefly then they settle back in front of him again. “I moved here recently, my uncle has a place on the beach.” His explanation causes me to inwardly groan. His uncle must be loaded to afford a home on the beach. Meeting someone who has money wouldn’t have ever concerned me before. Now my mom and dad have split. My father remains in our old house while they go through their divorce. It’s become really messy, and while it’s being fought, he’s not giving my mom more than the absolute minimum. Every dime she gets from him goes into keeping the house we have. I told her to sell it, but she said she’d lose money on it now. Instead, she’s trying to find a job.

Tarrant has been topping her up with the cash he makes from fixing cars. Now, I need to find a job too. The only thing my father has paid for is our tuition—I guess we should be grateful. However, my tuition comes with conditions. I need to continue playing football. I don’t mind, not really, but I wish I could use my time how I choose. There are so many things I’d love to do, like hiking and painting, but between school and football, I don’t have time for it.

When I do get a job, it will be even harder. It’s only a couple of months until school’s out, then I have one more year. That means I need to think about what I’m going to do afterward. For right now, I just need a job. As a guy, when you take out a girl, there’s an expectancy to pay for the date. I’ve only had three dates with other guys since I came out—I paid for two and the third we split the tab. I’m now going to have to watch what I spend. His family obviously have money, what’s the betting this guy does too? And I don’t. It’s just another drop of poison from my internal tap, telling me I’m not good enough.

“How recently did you move here?” I try to keep my voice relaxed, pretend like I’m not burning up on the inside, as we come to a stop at the stonewall.

“About ten days,” he tells me.

I nod and stretch my arms up, yawning. His eyes skim over my body, stopping briefly on my exposed stomach. I hum without realizing it, and he quickly averts his gaze. He shakes his head angrily. It’s such a small movement he probably doesn’t think I notice.

“You okay?” I ask, scratching the back of my head on purpose, so my top rises again. His eyes stay locked on mine this time.

“Yeah, I gotta go.”

“Of course. You go to college around here?” I push to get a little more information out of him. I know I want to see him again, I just have to figure out a way.”

“Erm… actually, I start West Hayden tomorrow.”

I almost swallow my tongue when he mentions my college. “That’s where I go.” My words come out slightly raspy, and he raises an eyebrow. Smacking a fist on my chest, I give a lame excuse. “Sorry, must have caught a bug in my throat.”

Casper nods slowly like he can’t decide if I’m crazy or not, but when the corners of his mouth twitch like he’s fighting a smile, a brass band starts performing inside me. He’s gay, he’s gay, he’s gay. The words accompany the brass band, and I hope like hell I’m right.

“So, see you tomorrow?” I whisper.

Casper tilts his to the side. “Sure.”

I don’t wait for anything else, not wanting to make myself look like an idiot. I know I’ll see him tomorrow and that’s enough for now.