I hum, popping a cherry tomato into my mouth. “Yeah. That’s why I stay away from it.”
He frowns. “Wait, what?”
“I don’t know how to swim.”
His jaw drops. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. I’ve just… always been afraid of water,” I admit. “Growing up, my parents had a yacht on Lake St. Clair. I hated going near it.”
Mason shakes his head like he’s personally offended. “That won’t do. I’m teaching you.”
“Absolutely not,” I say, shaking my head. “I’ve made it twenty-three years without knowing. I’m not trying to drown now.”
“C’mon! I’m a great teacher. I taught Maddie and some of her friends when we were younger.” His eyes are lit with excitement and determination.
I bite my lip. “I’ll think about it.”
He seems pleased with that answer—at least for now.
We fall into easy silence while we eat. I glance out the dirt-covered window. Outside, the wind stirs the trees, birds chirping from the branches.
Mason finishes his lunch and leans back on his hands, watching me curiously. “So, what do you think of Claremont Shores so far? Is it the coastal paradise you imagined?”
I consider it. “It’s a beautiful town. The beach is nice.”
“It is.”
“But…” I scratch at the back of my neck, hesitating. “Most of the people are exactly what I expected, unfortunately. I don’t think they’re used to seeing openly queer people.”
His smile falters. “Has someone said something to you?”
“Not directly, but I hear whispers when I walk by. And the other day, someone muttered a slur under their breath on the sidewalk.”
His nostrils flare. “Jesus.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I insist, shrugging it off. “I’m just here for my research until September. It’s not like I’ll be stuck living here.”
The words leave my mouth before I realize how they sound. “Sorry,” I blurt, wincing. “I didn’t mean it like that—”
“It’s fine,” he cuts in, but his voice has gone softer. Distant. The kind of quiet that makes my chest tighten.
I clear my throat, fidgeting with my fingers. “What was it like? Growing up here and being gay?”
His shoulders tense, his eyes drifting away. “I didn’t meet another queer person until I moved to Shelby Harbor for college. I always kind of knew I was different, I guess. I had secret crushes on male celebrities, but around here, being gay wasn’t even anoption. It just… didn’t feel real.”
I suddenly feel like an oblivious, privileged asshole. Back home, being gay wasn’t eveninteresting. We had an annual pride festival. My high school had a LGBTQ club. We elected a lesbian mayor once. No one cared.
I frown. “So… did you date girls in high school?”
He inhales a sharp breath. “Yes.”
“And you slept with them?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
He gives me an incredulous look. “What? You never slept with girls?”
