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Jeremy clinked our glasses. “Congrats on that and on graduating.”
“Thanks.” I took a large gulp.
“So how’re you liking it? Tilt-a-Whirl, I mean?”
I didn’t know what to say. Seeing gay men everywhere, men who laughed and danced and made out with each other—my skin buzzed with the excitement of discovery.
“It’s good. I’m good.” Understatement, but it felt right.
“Here’s to not having to hide.” He clinked our glasses together again, and I took another gulp.
Right then, right there, it hit me hard.
I wasout.
A surge of joy burst inside me, and I grinned at him. The drink made my smile feel sloppy. “Yes! No hiding!”
“You’re seeing it, huh? How good this could be?”
I laughed and nodded.
Jeremy grinned and raised his glass again. “To being out. To having fun.” We drained our drinks, and he said, “Here, let me get you another.”
“Okay, but let me pay this time.”
“No, seriously, it’s on me. To celebrate.”
Warmth from the liquor and mild disorientation from the constant driving beat of the music made it easy to smile and nod. “Cool. Thanks.”
Jeremy disappeared into the crowd again. While I waited, Madonna’s voice asked for God, and the men around me flooded the dance floor.
“Like A Prayer” filled the club and my joy soared with it. The dancers stripped off their shirts, knelt on the dance floor provocatively, and drove each other into a frenzy of movement. I grinned, wanting to be part of this vibrant, gay world.
I reached for my camera but of course I’d left it at home. In my mind’s eye, I clicked, clicked, clicked, and captured dozens of beautiful shots of queer joy. Each mental photo felt more and more real, like I was taking pictures, for the very first time, of a world where I could beme.
No hiding. No apologies. Just me.
Minty, Windy, and Antonio danced together again. Two of the guys they’d picked up earlier still clung to them as accessories to their gleaming friendship. I wanted what they had. Could there really be a place for me here? Buzzing on alcohol and high from the life around me, I dared to hope as Jeremy returned with another Greyhound.
“Thanks,” I said, lifting it in another toast. “To Tilt-a-Whirl!”
“Cheers!”
I swallowed a mouthful, liking the way the liquor made me feel. It was better than beer, and definitely better than whatever drinks I’d had the first time I came to Tilt-a-Whirl with Adam. Those had left me sick and maudlin.
“So,” Jeremy said, gesturing around. “Is it all you imagined during your lonely, celibate nights of high school?”
“Not so celibate.” I laughed. “I’ve got a boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend, huh?” Jeremy asked teasingly. “Where’s he tonight?”
“Italy,” I replied, sipping my drink as I giggled. It seemed absurd that I had a boyfriend (who had a girlfriend) all the way in Italy. Ridiculous, really.
The DJ cranked the volume again, and Jeremy leaned in to yell in my ear, “There on vacation?” His lips moved against my flesh, making me shift as my dick took notice.
“His family lives there.”
“Is he, by any chance, a soon-to-be ex-boyfriend?”
