“And he wears these horrible flip-flopsliterally everywhere—the thin, plastic kind that make those rude, slappy noises. Any sane person would want to chuck them into the Gulf, no matter how environmentally irresponsible that would be, they’rethatannoying—except somehow, after walking beside him for a minute, you become really aware of how silent your steps are when he’s not there. And then you realize you’re having fond thoughts about dollar-store footwear and you start to get concerned about your own mental state.”
“Mason.”
“And he’s sometimes insulting or eye-rolly when you tell him things, like there’s something inherently wrong with having your future planned out, but… he also makes you feel like hegets it, even if he doesn’tget itget it, and like you could tell him any random, insane thought or doubt or worry that jumps into your brain and it wouldn’t even faze him. And he makes you laugh about things you didn’t think would ever be funny.”
“Sweetness.”
“And he… he has this soap-clean smell. A stomach-flipping manly smell.” I sighed. “And he has a scruffy chin that’s softer than you’d think and makes you wanna rub your face against it. And… he’s like poison ivy and a weighted blanket all rolled into one.”
“Motherfucker. Where is Yiannis when I need him?”
I snorted. “And he… he has a real aversion to dating anyone who’s not out. He’s been someone’s experiment before, and I think he got hurt.”
“Ohhhh.” Toby was silent for a second. “That can’t be your…Edgar’sproblem. You know that, right? Edgar can’t come out for Perfect Fenn.”
“Fenn’s not perfect. And I know you’re right. Edgar knows. Fenn knows, too. He said that himself, earlier tonight. After he and Edgar, um…”
“Um?Finish that sentence immediately.”
“I can’t! I don’t have the vocabulary for what it was! Hands androckingand kissing and…rocking.”
“Hhhhngh.”
“You okay?”
“The vocabulary word you’re searching for isfrotting,”Toby said in a strangled voice. “And if your Fenn doesn’t get off on having you be all innocent and untutored, he’s a fucking idiot.”
“He’s not my Fenn.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.Edgar’sFenn, then.”
“That’s not what I meant! I mean, Fenn wants to be friends. No more… hooking up. Because he wants someone he can date, and I…” I took a deep breath. “I’m not out. I don’t know what I am.” I swallowed and curled up on the cold bathroom floor. “And it’s better that way. I’m not an idiot. There’s no future for me on Whispering Key. I’m leaving as soon as possible. This island is a tiny blip on my path. I’m not getting tied down here or anywhere.”
Why,whydid that simple, obvious truth make me want to cry, and/or rush down the balcony to Fenn’s door and force him to hug me until I felt less shitty?
“Mason, I have total faith that you’ll get where you need to be eventually.”
“Yeah? Well. That makes one of us.”
“What does Micah say?”
“Micah? Please. He’d fly down here and wouldn’t leave until he’d sorted me out. And if I thought he could do it, I’d let him, but he can’t, so I’m not telling him shit.” I pushed a hand through my hair. “I hate feeling this way, you know? Like I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. Tell me what to do.”
“You’re gonna hate this advice,” Toby said gleefully. “You ready? You need to give it time. Stop spiraling on this. Let your lizard brain catch up to your frontal lobe, or vice versa. Live your life. Let the seeds you planted germinate. Let Fenn’s caveman instincts overwhelm his reason. Then we’ll see.”
“Then we’ll see? That’s the worst advice ever,” I grumbled. That was theexact oppositeof what I was trying to do with my life. “I want aplan, Tobias. I want steps. I want to take action. ‘Seeing what happens’ is what fucked things up with Victoria.”
“No, sweetness, that was not the issue.Settlingwas the issue. So, you want to take action? Don’t settle. Be honest with yourself about what you want. Be honest with Fenn. But don’t overthink your way into a tiny box and pretend that’s you taking control of your life.”
“I take it back.Thatis the worst advice ever.” If I were honest with Fenn about the things I was feeling, I was pretty sure he’d take out a restraining order against me. With good reason.
But once Toby laughed and said goodbye, I was left staring at the picture of Fenn and me again.
Was Toby right? Was I really so scared of making a mistake that I couldn’t be honest about who I was and what I wanted right in this moment? I’d decided, back in my New York loft, that I wanted a life that was trulymine… and being real about myself was part of that. Even if Fenn and I were never together again, that moment on the beach earlier had been the truest, most honest experience of my entire life. SomethingI’dmade happen. Something that was, therefore, inherentlymine, even if it never happened again. Even if I never wanted it to.
I stared at that picture for an hour before opening my Instagram, then another hour trying to think up a caption, before I realized I didn’t have to. Fenn had already given me the perfect one.
“I dare you, Mason Bloom,” I whispered to myself from the tile floor of the tiny bathroom.
