The Day We Didn't Skip Rocks on the Lake

Darren picked out the rock I did not skip.

He spent minutes, head down toward the speckled sand, searching for the flattest, smoothest stone. While I sat under his umbrella, watching his curly hair fluff up in the wind.

"Eric!" he called from the shore, "Wait a bit longer! The best skipping rocks are down this way!"

I smiled and buried my feet further into the hot sand. The air was getting colder, and my toes were still wrinkled from the water. The lake smells faintly of fish, but the water is clear and free of zebra mussels.

He walked further down, continuing his search. With his back to me, I could relax a little.

I was a nervous wreck when he asked me out, but I thought I would calm down once we were off campus. But my heart is still beating rapidly. He approached me at the cafeteria and asked if I'd ever come to the beach. I nearly choked on my pizza as I stuttered out a 'no'.

I don't know why I lied. My grandparents owned a cottage not too far down the beach. The thought of Granny and Poppy popping their heads over the sand at any minute wasn't helping my nerves.

I hadn't even come out to my parents yet. What would the older generation think of their only grandson?

Darren disappeared around a boat on his mission for the perfect stone. I couldn't help but wonder if it was only an excuse to get away from me. Maybe he'd walk until he reached the main road and hitchhike back to campus. What would I do then?

It wouldn't be the first time a closeted man walked out in fear.

But Darren didn't seem shy. In the cafeteria, my friends, the only three people in the world to know my true self, giggled and shook my shoulders once I accepted Darren's invitation. As I watched him walk away and stand in line to get his lunch, I worried that at any moment he might turn toward someone else and laugh. That laughter I would take as a slight, and convince myself it was all a joke. But whenever his face turned my way, all I saw was a proud smirk. The one a child wears whenever being praised.

Other boys are not to be trusted. Any second now, Darren will wake up, hear the word 'Queer', and run.

I stood and shook the sand off my swim shorts. The sun was still high, but it was teetering west. I jogged to the water and walked until the cold waves brushed against my hips. I plugged my nose and dipped under. I counted to thirteen before coming up for air.

I rubbed my eyes free of water droplets and looked for Darren. But he was gone. I could picture him clearly, holding up his thumb and asking a car of beautiful girls for a lift back to campus. They would blush and let him brush his knees against theirs as they drove.

I dropped back into the water, plunging down and bobbing back up to the surface. I wanted the weight of my disappointment to drown me, but I suppose one cannot be disappointed by the inevitable.

"Found it!"

My heart flipped. I tried to stand, but the sand beneath my feet was slippery. I must have looked like a flailing fish.

"Take a look. It's perfect!"

My hand trembled as he splashed into the water and handed over the stone.

"Good, right? I bet you could get a good ten skips in if you throw it just right."

"It's amazing," I managed to say.

He cocked his head when I clutched the rock. He waited a moment in anticipation, hoping to see the skipping rock fly. But when I stood in awe of the tiny stone, he smiled, that familiar, proud smirk.

"It's okay, you don't have to throw it if you don't want to."

When we returned to the dorm, long after the sun had set, I placed the pebble on my dresser.

And there it has stayed.