Jema

9. Survive

I'm not sure why I thought browsing the area was a good idea, but I find myself tip-toeing around the dark lobby. I almost slipped coming out of the pool, and I'm hesitating to call out Maver's name, just in case someone else is out there instead. The desk was about fifty feet away, so when I feel carpet under my feet, I take twenty-five big steps in the direction of where I saw it last.

And there's lots of moaning and heavy breathing once I get my hands on the edge of the wood.

I finally decide to speak up when I hear a "oh, Danny!" and "you like that?" being repeated, often with different words substituted here and there. I can't see a thing. I really could use some glasses. If I can't see two white boys freakin' behind a counter two feet away, I won't be able to drive at night.

"Are you two screwing?" I harshly whisper. Before I can get a response, I feel Dennis' hands on my shoulders. I didn't realize he was following me. He's in for quite the surprise.

"What? Who is that?" I hear one voice whisper.

"Shit... the guys I let into the pool. Gimme the flashlight."

"No, I don't have pants on-"

"For fuck's sake Danny, they're already here."

"Hello?" I snap. Just as I close my mouth, a white light beams right in my eyes. "The lights turned off in the pool," I explain, my hand shielding my eyes from going blind. Maver stands up with some sort of sheepish smile on his face. I don't look around much (I mean, as much as I'd like to...), but Maver's boyfriend is right behind him with the same stupid look on his face. Sigh. College kids.

"What happened? Sorry, I didn't hear-"

"Pool lights are off," I interrupt Maver. He looks on a sex high with his glasses slightly crooked and his fiery hair messed up and his cheeks all flushed. Not to mention his boyfriend, who keeps his arms locked around Maver's waist like his life depends on it.

"Oh..." Maver nods. He crooks his head around to kiss his boyfriend's nose. "You must've bumped the switch. The big yellow one that you have to- yeah, the one over by the corner." Danny disappears behind the counter; the pool lights flicker on behind us. "There. S-sorry about that," Maver giggles. I wonder if either of them have pants on.

"Thanks," I say quickly, then drag Dennis in the direction of the pool. That was something. They weren't even really embarrassed. God, I really want a boyfriend to not be embarrassed with.

Corey isn't even in the pool anymore; instead he plays a handheld game on the side in a white, plastic chair. He really can't get away. "What happened?"

"They flicked the switch by accident," I explain. When I turn to look at Dennis, he's white in the face like he's seen a ghost. "You alright?"

He shakes his head. "Could've gone my whole life without seeing two dudes screwing." He shakes his head again.

"It's not that bad," I assure him.

"I don't get it. Why. Sex in a hotel lobby. Why."

"I mean, when a man and a man really love each other-"

"Shut. Up."

"C'mon, Dennis. You get more guys than I do. You see fifteen to twenty penises on a regular school day," I shrug and cannonball back into the water, much to Corey's dismay. I think I must've made a splash with his handheld game. It's almost three in the morning, we're swimming in a pool, practically V.I.P. status, and the testosterone game is strong outside the glass pool doors. I could live on this high forever.

When I come up for air, Dennis is silently chilling out in the four-foot side of the pool. "Why would I see fifteen dicks a day?"

"You're in a locker room. I don't do the athletic thing, remember? That's your gig," I laugh. Huh. Maybe I should start up a sport. Football. Next year. If anyone asks 'Jema? I thought you weren't interested in taking part in the pride and gold of our small town', my simple response will be 'twenty dicks a day'.