My closet was made of tinted glass. So you’d think a Caribbean cruise would be the perfect place to hide, given all that bright, glaring sun. But not even my oversized orange hoodie, perfectly covering my awkward 17-year-old body, or the baggie raver pants that flared out to the ground could shield me from the look in his eyes as he tilted his sunglasses onto his nose and gazed me up and down.
“Nice pipe,” He said, in his thick southern drawl.
I stared down at my hands, nervously turning the small wooden bowl over as I did my best to avoid looking up, the large bulge protruding through his bright blue Speedos at almost the exact height of my face practically begging me to stare at it. I thought if I ignored him long enough, he would go away, but he didn’t.
“Are you planning to put something in it”? He asked, pulsing his groin towards me. I finally looked up and met his eyes, my cheeks flushed red.
“It’s for a friend. I bought it on the island yesterday,” I said, nervously looking around the deck to see if any of my family was around. Even though I told my sister I was “bisexual” in a hotel room in Miami the night before we boarded the ship, I was still playing the all too familiar game of hide and seek with the rest of my family. The hardest part about coming out isn’t actually coming out, it’s having to expose something about yourself that isn’t really exposing anything at all. Thankfully, the coast was clear.
“Lucky friend”. He said and winked.
The truth was, he was the first person I noticed when I came up to the pool deck an hour before and found a shaded corner to hide in. That all too familiar game I always played as I scanned every room for signs of others that might be like me. Not because I found safety in numbers. More to protect myself from being around someone with the power to reveal my secrets. All it takes is a look. But as much as I tried to ignore him, my eyes kept wandering back, his body sprawled out flamboyantly on a lounger, sipping on some fruity cocktail as he laughed and screeched with the two women framing him. He made my stomach squirm. The way his wrist flicked back and forth as he talked too loudly. The way he threw his head back when he laughed. The way his tanned orange belly hung over his Speedo. A direct affront to my idea that all gay men in the world but me had 6 packs and bulging biceps.
“Hey, aren’t you a little overdressed for the occasion? You do know it’s over 90 degrees up here?” He teased.
“I don’t like the sun”, I lied.
“Did you forget your swimsuit?” He asked. “Because I have an extra Speedo in my room. If you want to come try it on.”
A rush of heat flushed through my body as my eyes flicked back to his bulge. Oh god, please tell me he didn’t see that. Of course he saw that. My eyes darted around. Were those people staring at us? Suddenly, I felt myself start to move. Automatic shifting of awkward limbs, gathering up my backpack on the floor beside me, the towel under me. But before I could stand, he took a step forward and leaned down, his fried blonde hair falling into his freckled face.
“I might even have something to put into that pipe if you want.” I froze.
“You mean like, pot?” I asked, looking up and directly into his eyes. They were crystal blue. He smiled.
“Yup. I’ve got a whole bunch of it. You wanna go smoke?”
Oh God, how badly I wanted to. How much I missed the sweet comfort of marijuana, tragically deprived of it since my parents forced me onto the plane for this stupid family vacation almost a week ago. But I couldn’t do it. As much as the lure his bulge and the prospect of getting high put their powers of seduction into overdrive, fear and disgust tightened their tendrils around my lungs, and I jumped up, spinning around to make sure I had everything before stumbling away, turning back quickly and awkwardly apologizing. I went back to my room and jerked off, then curled up like a baby and cried.

When I found myself back in the same spot the next day, I would have sworn to you it wasn’t on purpose.
“So you do own a swimsuit.” He said as I lowered the book from my face to see him back, standing in front of me in another, albeit equally revealing Speedo. “What a relief.”
My heart pounded. I looked around, then leaned forward and looked right at him. “Do you really have pot in your room?”
He smiled.
The room was tiny, the door closing behind me as my backpack dropped to the floor. He took the pipe from me and sat on the edge of the bed, filling it with weed from a plastic bag.
“My name is Calvin, by the way.”
“I’m Matthew,” I said as I sat down on the bed, taking the pipe and inhaling a long, slow hit. He moved his leg so it was touching mine, then reached his hand onto my thigh and started sliding it up towards my crotch. He leaned his face towards me, his chapped lips puckered and his eyes closed tight.
“I can’t do this,” I said, standing abruptly.
“What are you talking about?” He said, his eyes popping.
“I’m sorry. I can’t.” I turned and stepped towards the door.
“So what, you just used me for my drugs? Please. Typical fag.” The word hit like a knife, and I stopped, my hand gripping the door handle as I turned back to him, our eyes locking. And there it was. That look. That look in his eyes that said, I see you. I see right through you. I know you. I am you.
I turned and barreled out the door.

Over the next few days I stayed far away from the pool deck, but even that didn’t stop me from seeing him everywhere. I was so terrified at the thought of running into him that I didn’t even realize my siblings dragging me straight from dinner to the disco one hot, humid night. It wasn’t until I saw the crowded dance floor that it hit me. If there was one place you could guarantee you’ll find gays on a boat, it’s at the disco. I tried my best not to think about it, downing a boozy pina colada as the sweet sound of Kylie Minogue blared through the speakers. I finally started to relax, moving my body on the dance floor with my sister, doing shots at the table with my brothers. For the first time in days I wasn’t even thinking about big fat blunts and bulging speedos when suddenly the waitress appeared at our table, a large, fruity cocktail in her hand. She set it down in front of me.
“I don’t think we ordered that”, my brother said. She looked at me.
“It’s for you. From him.” She turned and pointed across the room as our entire table followed along together with their gaze. I leaned over to see around my brother, and it all came into view. Calvin, four tables away, with a harem of women surrounding him, all turned towards us. His head was tilted and his arm was straight up in the air with his wrist bent, his fingers flapping up and down, waving at me. I sank down into my seat as the entire weight of the cruise ship piled onto my chest. Everyone’s eyes turned from him and back to me.
“Who is that?” my brother Jesse asked. I looked over at my sister, our eyes locking for a single second.
“Oh my God”. I said, years of practice kicking into high gear. “That guy is such a fucking creep. He was stalking me all over the pool deck the other day.”
Everyone was silent.
“I’m pretty sure that he’s gay,” I said, and my brothers started to laugh.
“You think?” They said in unison.
“I don’t know why he sent me this. We hardly even talked to each other. He’s disgusting.” I spat the words out and shoved my trembling hands down onto my lap.
“Well, he obviously thinks you’re cute,” My sister said, trying to help.
“Whatever”. I said, looking over at her again, desperately.
“Well, you should just take it as a compliment. Nothing wrong with someone buying you a drink, right?” She turned back to him and waved. My brothers’ eyes stayed on me. I looked from one to the other.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I said, picking up the drink and downing it all at once, lifting the empty glass into the air and gesturing it towards Calvin’s table.
“Attaboy,” My brother Darcy said, hitting me playfully on the arm.
Everyone cheered. Everyone moved on. And I did my best to follow suit. It wasn’t until we were all downing a final glass of water, getting ready to leave, when suddenly he was there.
“Well, hello there everyone.” He said, leaning his arm onto our table. “I’m Calvin.”
Everyone said hi except me; my voice caught in my throat, and my body frozen in place. The silence seemed to stretch on forever.
“Nice to meet you, Calvin,” I said awkwardly.
He laughed, running his hand through his hair, turning to me and reaching his finger out through the air and bopping me on the nose.
“You left your pipe in my room.” He said, loud enough for the whole table to hear. My stomach dropped.
“You can feel free to come by and grab it anytime.” He said, winking at me as he turned and stumbled away.
I watched him go, my body paralyzed. I wanted to disappear. To vanish into thin air. But when I didn’t, I slowly turned back to face the table. My sister’s hand was on her heart, her eyes wide. My brothers and their girlfriends’ mouths all hung open as they stared at me in total and utter… belief.