Turning Tides

5. Preparation

I tried on ten different iterations of the same outfit. I was taking my sweet time to make sure I made a good first impression, but the party started in 30 minutes. More to the point, I still did not have any idea what the Capsize was. I attempted to do research on Google, but I couldn't find anything that seemed related. Between costume changes, a lightbulb went off above my head, so I hopped onto my bed and into my phone. Of course, my new friend that doesn't know I even exist may be able to help me. I went onto Jayden's Instagram and found a post from a year ago to the exact day; the party must be some kind of annual thing. I remembered a post from a beach party that I saw during my first stalking session. It stuck out to me because his body looked particularly toned and tanned, and he was actually smiling with his teeth in some of the "candid" shots. I would never understand why he didn't want to show off a feature as nice as his smile. A few scrolls down, and there was a picture of him wearing an open Hawaiian shirt and a short blue bathing suit on a beach with a group of boys. All of the boys in the picture were clinging to red plastic cups while also making sure to keep adequate distance between themselves because standing too close to each other would seem "too gay, bro." Anyway, I noticed that the group of boys was standing in front of what appeared to be a... capsized ship washed up onto the beach. The word ship is the most accurate word to describe the grandeur of the wrecked sea vessel. The word, boat, simply did not do it justice.

 My sleuthing then directed me to my maps app where I decided that the best course of action would be to browse the beach on satellite view to find the wrecked vessel. Kingsley Island's beach wasn't incredibly long, but I felt as though I was scrolling down the beach for hours as butterflies commenced a siege on the edges of my stomach. Finally, I located the wreckage. People like Ferdinand Magellan and Christopher Columbus must've been turning over in their graves watching me get annoyed that it was taking too long to use a satellite image map to explore the world. Though I was the antithesis of an Age of Exploration explorer, I felt very accomplished as I had discovered my equivalent of The New World. The Capsize was about 3 miles from my house. Not bad.

I stepped out of my room wearing a red Polo bathing suit and a white t-shirt that came from a local shop in my hometown. I spent a lot of time debating if I should take my silver earrings out, but I decided that they would be difficult to notice in the dark while also giving me a distinguishing factor if someone, hopefully Jayden, were to get close enough. 

"Why are you wearing clothes that aren't your pajamas this late?" My dad asked as he looked up from his phone.

"I'm going to that party thing the asshole in the school was talking about." I understood that it seems like most teenagers would lie in this situation, but my dad had been overcompensating for struggling with my coming out by letting me have almost unchecked freedom as long as I abided by the curfew he decided. I also knew that this would be a home run because he felt bad about the move.

"Well, I mean... know your limit please, son. Try to make some friends. Make sure you watch people pour your drinks and please don't hesitate to call me if you need anything. Also, wake me up when you come home. No later than 1:00 AM."

"Yes, yes I know. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. I'm sure I'm smarter than anyone in this bumfuck town. Plus, I'm the new kid and I'm gay. Everyone needs a token minority in their group. It'll be so good to mention in their college essays. Surely they'll take me right in."

I don't think he liked my attempt at a joke. His facial expression remained steadfast, "Remember I trust you until you give me a reason not to."

"Yes sir."

"Alright. Better bring me back some good stories." He said as bourbon found its way past his greying beard and into his mouth.

"Can I get a shot of that to pre-game the party?"

"Get. Out. I don't want to know about it if you do drink. You couldn't handle this stuff anyway. You have to have at least 4 separate beard hairs before you can drink something this manly." He joked. Trust me, he wasn't caught up in the horrors of toxic masculinity. 

"Fine. Just know that it severely limits the quality of the good stories I can bring back."

The party at the Capsize would certainly provide me with a worthwhile story, no bourbon needed.