I recognized the setting. We were back in Chicago at the set where we'd photographed Chris' older brother. Cameron was there, closer than I'd allowed him in real life. An arm slipped around my waist, and I turned to meet his steady gaze. My hand betrayed me, running a finger along his sharp jawline, breezing past his lips as if to hush us both. They were slightly moist, inviting a forbidden kiss. I knew those lips, knew how they tasted, how they made me melt from inside out. I leaned forward, standing on my toes to capture his full lower lip. He pressed us closer together, smiling against my touch.
I woke up with a start, shutting my eyes again as my cheeks filled with warmth. It wasn't the first time I'd dreamed of Chicago, and not the first time I'd dreamed of kissing Cameron. It was embarrassing and slightly unsettling. Even if I couldn't control my dreams, it still bothered me that I was so ready to forget Gabriel and exchange his embrace for Cameron's. My dreams of Gabriel were very different, in fact, and not at all pleasant.
After a long, cleansing shower, I tip-toed down into the kitchen to face whatever was in store for me. I had made a mess of the conversation with Cameron, and I wanted to say sorry.
It couldn't have been easy to tell me about his childhood, and what had I done? Too locked up inside my confused head, I hadn't been able to give him the attention he deserved. He had opened up, and I had rewarded him by shutting down. It wasn't like me. I wanted him to understand that I cared, perhaps more than I should. Lingering images from the dream assaulted me and made my skin too warm even if the air was cool.
Dante lounged in the large sofa, staring at something on the large TV even if the sound was muted.
"Good morning," I said.
He looked over his shoulder. "Good morning."
"Where are the others?"
"Chris is sleeping. Didn't want to wake him up."
"Have you seen Cameron?"
"No, but I think he might be outside. His shoes are gone."
I looked out of the window and saw a person sitting on the beach. The tousled brown hair sticking out beneath the cap could only belong to Cameron.
"Hey, are you all right?" Dante asked.
"Yeah." Not really. My thoughts and emotions were too confusing to be called all right.
Dante shook his head. "Chris has been worried about you for a long time."
I shrugged and ambled over to the fridge. What could I say? Cameron had seen the bruises, and no doubt, he had told the others. They would resent me. Judge me.
"Hey."
I startled, not aware that Dante had moved from the sofa. He was tall beside me, frowning slightly as if deep in thought.
"You're upset." It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes."
"Why?"
It was a simple question without simple answers. "I'm confused."
Dante cocked his head, gazing into my eyes in that way that made me wonder if he could read people's thoughts. "It's difficult to understand why someone who should love you ends up hurting you instead."
Closing my eyes, I tried to shut down the emotions that threatened to erupt. I was about to lashing out, and that was another side of me that felt entirely foreign.
"I don't want to talk about this."
"I get it. And you don't have to say anything to me." He patted my shoulder and strode back to the sofa, leaving me with my thoughts once again. He made everything sound so easy, but it was as far from the truth as you could possibly get.
Appetite ruined, I decided that it was time to make one thing right, at least. Cameron deserved an apology.
I slid the patio door open, pausing to breathe in the stifling, salty air. Birds chirped and cawed, and the surge gave off that calming sound that never failed to soothe a wary mind.
Pausing in the shadow of a large palm tree, I realized that Cameron had left. The spot where he'd sat held no trace of him—the sand already trampled by numerous feet.
Walking toward the sun, I continued through the white sand, each step sinking deep into the warmth. My long sleeved, thin sweater would be soaked in no time, but I didn't care. It felt good to walk even if every face I met along the way belonged to a stranger. Perhaps that was the reason why it felt good. They didn't know anything about my life. They had never met me or Gabriel, and if they had, they might have seen the signs of a happy couple. Maybe they would have believed the lies.
I clenched my fists and walked faster. Lies. How much did I know about Gabriel? Had he always been violent, shielding me from that side of him until I came too close? It struck me that I had wondered the same thing before. My mind was running in circles within circles, and I wasn't getting anywhere.
My friends had moved me across the ocean to help me clear my head, but instead of thanking them for trying to help, I had been difficult.
They all deserved an apology, but I wasn't ready yet. I had to think. I had to decide what I wanted and how I would act when we touched American soil again.
Children ran in the sand in front of me, playing with a white ball that they threw back and forth. They were laughing, filling the air with unmistakable sounds of pure happiness. Two boys, sharing that effortless friendship that Gabriel and I'd once had.
He had protected me, he had kept me close and always made sure I was all right, but that person was gone—replaced by someone entirely different. It pained me that I might have been the cause of that change. Everything had been fine until I had told him about my feelings. I had seen it right before my eyes—the rage that had taken hold and refused to let go. He'd thrown me out of our room as if our friendship hadn't meant a single thing to him. Years and years of shared experiences, and it had all crashed in an instant. A split second of total destruction was all it had taken. Since then, I had tried to change us for the better, but instead, he had changed me for the worse.
I reached the end of the beach, or at least the end of the public beach. It was time to either return or continue my spontaneous escape. They would probably worry back at the villa, but hopefully they understood that I needed some time alone. I wasn't a child any longer, and I definitely needed to feel free and not locked inside a cage.
Instead of turning around, I ventured into a maze of hotels and private palaces that seemed endless. The larger hotels were visible in the distance, slabs of concrete with apartments upon apartments stacked on each other. The structures were huge, and they were everywhere. I was happy that Chris had the foresight to book something that was a little bit less gaudy.
I wandered around for hours, lost in thought until my legs barely carried my weight. Without a wallet or a phone, I was out of options. Alone. The sea looked welcoming, but I wasn't sure if I had it in me to walk into the water with all my clothes on. People would question my sanity.
Thoroughly exhausted beneath the relentless sun, I dropped on a blue-painted bench next to an open-air restaurant that lined the street, desperate to find shade. Not sure how late it was, I tried to estimate the time based on the position of the sun.
"Shouldn't look into the sun like that." A smiling guy with a black apron tied around his hips handed me a glass of water.
"Thanks. Why...?"
The guy stepped behind the counter, clearly working at the small restaurant. "You looked like you needed it."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. Just holler if you want something else." He flashed a friendly smile and continued to wipe down the counter. The place was rather empty, and I wondered where all the tourists were. Maybe it was too early in the day, or too hot. The latter seemed more probable. The heat was killing me.
I gazed at the bottles of booze lined up on the shelves behind the bar. Alcohol wouldn't do me any good, but I wondered if I could persuade the others to go out and have a drink one night. I hadn't danced in ages. I knew we were staying in Nassau for another night, then we would head to some other island. Surely, tonight was the night it could happen.
I chugged down the water and rose from the bench, placing the empty glass on the counter.
"Are there any good night clubs around?" I asked the bartender.
"Looking for anything specific?"
"Gay-friendly would be good."
The smile disappeared. "If you want a gay bar, you will have to go underground."
"Excuse me?"
The guy rolled his eyes. "This place isn't exactly gay-friendly. Haven't noticed that yet?"
"No. We've only been here for a few days, and not really in public."
"Good. Keep it that way." The hostility in his voice put me on edge, and I decided it was time to head back to the villa. Why had Chris and Cameron chosen The Bahamas if it wasn't a gay-friendly place? It didn't make sense at all.
The conversation was also a cold reminder that we still weren't accepted everywhere. Apparently, it didn't take much for someone to change their opinion once they found out the truth about my sexuality. It wasn't just Gabriel.
Not entirely sure where the villa was located, I lost my way and wandered back into the labyrinth of opulent houses. Every once in a while, I thought I saw a house I recognized, but they all appeared the same. I knew I was losing it. I could feel the haze descending upon me even as I tried to avoid the sun. My throat itched as well, longing for another sip of water.
It felt as if hours had passed, or like time stood still. I wasn't sure. Stopping more and more often, I wondered if anyone would find me, and what they would do. I had nothing on me, no identification, no credit card. I smiled wryly, maybe this was how I would disappear from the world.
Wiping sweat off my forehead, I gazed down the street. A shimmer of gray-blue in the distance made me realize how stupid I'd been. I should have walked along the water from the start. I rose from the ground with difficulty, unsteady on my feet but far too exhausted to care. My steps were slow, but I tried to ignore my parched throat and aching stomach. I was too tired to think, enveloped in a numbness that was strangely liberating. My only thought was to move forward. Only forward.
I reached a beach and wondered which direction to pursue. Perhaps it was best to simply walk into the water and cool down. The calm waves begged me to sink into their depths, but I worried that I wouldn't be able to continue if I succumbed. I had to keep moving.
The sand was heavy beneath me, scorching hot and almost blinding in its brightness. If I fell into it, would I faint? Would I be saved?
"Adam."
I blinked, relieved to hear Cameron's voice. He was running in my direction, calling my name again. He didn't stop until his arms were around me.
"What the hell, Adam," he said, breathing hard down my neck.
He was too warm—I was too warm, but I didn't have it in me to protest as my head started to spin.
"I'm tired."
He leaned back and studied me. "Shit. Have you had anything to eat? Anything to drink? You've been gone for hours. The others are out searching for you as well."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." I could barely form the words, much less make sense.
"Let's get you back inside. You're burning up. Did you use sunblock a least?"
"Don't think so."
"You're nuts."
"I know."
"Let's go." He began to pull me in the direction he had come from, but he soon realized that I was moving slower than a slug. "Want me to carry you?"
I scoffed. "They hate gays here."
"Who told you that?" He placed an arm around my waist and pulled my arm above his shoulders.
"A bar."
"Have you been drinking?"
"No. Just water."
"Good."
"I wanna drink, though. I really need a drink." I snuggled into his side, trying to find my balance.
He shook his head. "When we've ruled out heat stroke, I'll pour you a drink myself."
"Thanks."
With Cameron's help, I managed to take the necessary steps across the sand, the patio and into the villa, and I almost laughed at how close I'd been all this time. The air inside was refreshingly cool, helping me to stand once Cameron left my side.
"Sit down, I'll get you some water."
Needing more of the cool air, I stripped out of my soaked sweater and discarded my pants. Cameron had already seen the bruises, anyway. I crashed onto the sofa and stared up at the white ceiling. I only lasted a second until I realized that the sofa was too warm. I crawled down onto the tiled floor and sent out a silent thank you for the lack of heat.
"Drink this. I'll come back." He tried to give me a glass, but when I seemed unable to hold it, he changed his mind. Sitting down next to me, he pulled me up to lean back against the sofa and held the glass for me to drink. My skin burned even hotter where we touched, but I didn't want to move away.
"I'm so stupid."
"Yes, you are," he replied.
"You're not suppos' to agree."
He chuckled. "I can agree until your head is clear again. But no, you're not stupid, just reckless, and currently slurring."
"Won't do it again."
"I sure hope so."
He offered the glass once more and I drank the rest. It tasted better than anything I'd ever had before, but it wasn't enough.
"I'm sorry."
"You should have told us you were going."
I tried to lift my hand from the floor, but didn't get far. "I was looking for you."
"Were you?"
"Yes."
"Not the entire time, I bet."
"No. But I wanted to say sorry."
"For what?"
I made another attempt to lift my hand, and this time it worked. I placed it on his arm. "For being an ass yesterday. You told me about your childhood, and I...I didn't know what to say. I made you leave."
"It's okay. I understand."
"It's not okay."
"You're forgiven either way."
I brushed his arm, not thinking about I was doing. "I'm sorry that happened to you. I can't imagine..."
"It's in the past. Mom didn't stay with him for long."
"How long?"
"Two years."
Two years was a long time. Far too long. I somehow pulled him to my side and placed my head on his shoulder. "That's two years too many."
I could feel his chest heaving with a strained breath. "I'm fine, Adam. I got out."
"You got me out, too."
"Also too late."
"Not too late," I said, feeling an odd kind of relief. I was safe. I felt safe by Cameron's side, and it dawned on me that I hadn't felt safe in a very long time.
I cuddled closer even though I knew it was forbidden territory. He tensed beside me, but he didn't pull away. He remained by my side as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Time passed in silence until something touched my hair, making my entire insides sizzle. Had he kissed me? Surely not. He wasn't allowed, and my strange feelings for him were supposed to be secret.