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"Perhaps he was lying."

"I've considered that, but I've never known him to lie. Brogan's a manipulator who bends the truth in order to fit his own agenda, but he always steers clear of falling into the trap that is the web of lies. I hate to admit it—I absolutely hate to—but what Brogan knows, Brogan knows for sure. His word is his weapon, he wouldn't risk dulling it. If he was caught in a lie, he'd be wrecked, his popular life would be finished."

"No, I suppose you're right. You've known him better than anyone, to be sure. I take it you think he's manipulating this truth to serve his own hidden agenda, but to what end?"

"I don't know, but the best that I came up with is that he wants to rip away the last friendship that I have left."

"Well, you have me now, so it wouldn't be your last friendship, now would it?"

"I was speaking in regards to his perspective—he doesn't know about you."

"Right. Let me see if I've got the logic of this—your current situation. If you can only logically assume that Brogan is telling the truth, then that means that Jordan outed you. If you assume that Jordan outed you, then the trust of friendship is broken by his betrayal. If he did betray you, then you can either choose to forgive him, because, in essence, he's returned your earlier betrayal from ages ago, or you can choose not to forgive him and end the only friendship that you still have that exists anywhere near you. The issue you're having isn't with Brogan's message, because you have good, logical reason to accept it as truth, so your issue seems to be that you don't know how you're to deal with Jordan—to end a friendship that you seem to be in rather dire need of, or to continue with a friend that you feel that you can no longer trust. Did I sum it up, correctly?"

"Quite nicely," I say, thoroughly impressed that he's summed it up better than anything I had previously in my own head. "So what do I do now?"

"I believe that your ex-friend, Base, mentioned that friendship is built upon trust—"

"So, you think I should cut Jordan loose?"

"I hadn't finished. In a way, you can think of what he said as something coming from within the straight world, but we happen to be discussing a matter that's particularly foreign to the straight world, a matter that's quite particular to the gay world. Within our world, I reckon up to half the people who have been outed were likely outed by someone that they had trusted—family and friends. In the case of those who were outed by people that they didn't quite trust to begin with, I'm sure most moved on and simply cut ties. However, in the case of those outed by a family member or a friend, I reckon a significant portion maintained or perhaps later repaired their relations, learning to accept the incident as a kind of one-off deal."

"So, I should forgive him and keep him on as my friend?"

"Honestly, I don't think it right for me to tell you what you should do. You'll need to have a think on this. Although, I would like to add that there are worse things than being outed."

"That doesn't help—that last statement is a dualism in regards to keeping Jordan as a friend. I could interpret that as meaning that I should forgive him because he could have done something worse, or I could interpret that as meaning that I should not forgive him because he may do something worse in the future."

"Right. Well, you can follow your head, or you can follow your heart, if your head can't decide, then your heart is the start."

"In other words, I should take action instead? But, what action would that be? A confrontation?"

"You've confronted your parents, you've confronted your two, former best friends, perhaps you've already your answer."

As I think about what a confrontation with Jordan might look like, or rather it's potential outcomes, I turn around to face down the length of the beach at how packed it is. The tourists taking pictures, nude bathers lounging around while others of them play volleyball, fishermen casting their lines into the waves—it's quite relaxing, just to sit and watch all of the very different people going about their leisure time.

In the distance, I spot a massive group of people, perhaps fifty strong, heading for the big rocks—straight for us. They're probably tourists. As I continue to stare at the group, I realize that at the front and center of the pack, leading the group, there are the all-too-familiar figures of Brogan and Base. My hands begin to tremble in fear of a potential confrontation—the fear of potential conflict—the fear of again being on the receiving end of violence. Our escape route blocked, I turn to Edmund, my eyes widen with panic.

"I need to hide." I look around and to the north, searching for an escape route.

"What is it?" Edmund asks as I get to my feet and scramble off the rocks. I head north against the rising tides towards a potential route that I've never even taken before. Following my lead, Edmund asks, "what's wrong?"

"It's Brogan and Base with some group that I don't recognize." The path down below, blocked by the heavy crash of waves from the rising tide, I turn to my right and begin to scramble up the side of the cliff, but this path only leads us to a precarious, dead end. "They're headed straight for us—we're trapped."