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Part 3 - Growing up, coming out, getting wet

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Posted by Patrick on December 31, 2022 at 04:53:16

This is the final chapter of the story of my experience.

I woke up a bit before Willy that next morning. We were technically off the clock until around dinner time, so we took advantage of it by sleeping in. Willy was still asleep, with his arm draped gently across my chest. I laid still, enjoying the moment. Willy slowly woke up, and smiled at me. We again had to be very quiet, given that anyone would be able to hear us outside the thin walls of the tent. My hair was getting long by then, I'd gone the whole summer without a hair cut, and Willy was playfully tugging on some of the curls in my hair. He had a tiny tuft of light blond underarm air, and I gave that a little flick with my finger. Willy struggled to stifle a laugh, "I have tickles there," he whispered. At that, I had to stifle my own laugh. "In English, we'd say, 'I'm ticklish.'". Willy smirked and flicked at my ear lobe, so flicked at his nipple. The childish foreplay eventually led to a kiss, after which we'd gotten dressed and I again snuck out of his tent and back to my camp site undetected.

This was the final week that camp was operating for the season, and it was not fun. To start with, we had to start breaking down, cleaning up and putting away a small city's worth of camp equipment. The weather wasn't cooperating, it was hot, humid and raining pretty much every day. So clothes, shoes, tents all got wet, and did not dry. Finally, it would be only a few days before Willy would be headed back to Germany. The total effect here was that I was unhappy, exhausted, anxious and irritated. Christian - the camp staffer who was a couple years older than me and kind of our so-called "camp mom" - pulled me aside one day and asked if I was alright. I grumbled something about just being hot and wet and tired. "Uh huh," Christian said, "are you having any heart trouble, by any chance?" "Heart trouble?" I asked, not getting the reference. "You know, relationship trouble." "Uh, no...?" Christian frowned and asked, "Patrick, I have to ask - and you're not in trouble, but I just have to know, for me... That night at the showers when you were talking to Jared..." I felt my eyes widen, I did not want to have this conversation. "... were you in there with Willy?" I was shocked that Christian knew not just that I was in there with someone, but also who exactly I was in there with. I felt like the world was spinning and I was falling. I was not ready to come out, and I had no idea what I should do. Though I didn't say anything in response to Christian's question, he surely figured out the answer based on my reaction. What happened next surprised me even more. Christian gave me a friendly clap and the shoulder and said "Right ON man! Congrats!" I blinked at him - a lot was happening and I couldn't keep up with it, and I didn't know how to react. I blinked again. Christian said "I was wondering why you've been in such a better mood the last couple weeks. Now I get it. Good for you! Man, I'm straight, but even I know how good looking he is! So, why are you upset? Did you guys have a fight?" My primary urge was to run away, but that wasn't practical, so I took a risk and decided to talk to Christian about it. "No, we didn't have a fight." "So, what then? Oh... he's heading back to Deutschland pretty soon, while you're stuck here in Michigan. Does that have something to do with it?" I nodded, and felt tears well up in my eyes. Christian gave me another clap on the shoulder, and asked, "have you talked to him about it?" "No," I mumbled. "Will you?" I nodded. Christian gave me a sympathetic look and offered some advice: "You know, one day, you'll have that long term relationship, and it will be great. Until then, there's nothing wrong with just having some fun in the moment. Just enjoy spending time with him, don't act like a d-bag - not like you would - but, ya know, just enjoy the fact that you don't have to worry about next week or next month. You can just have fun in the moment." I nodded, I didn't fully understand the impact of his advice, but I got the gist of it. "Um, I didn't want anyone to know... I DON'T want anyone to know about this." Christian gave me a genuine smile and assured me that his lips were sealed.

Willy and I did find a chance to have a talk - sadly, that last week of camp was so busy and hectic that there was no way we were going to sneak off to a hidden campsite, or even get a shower together. So we just talked while taking a walk down a quiet trail. "I'm so glad we met, I do not want to leave you at all," Willy said. We assured each other we were always welcome to visit the other, but we also knew that it was effectively impossible that either of us would be traveling across continents to see each other again. This was before Facebook was a thing. MySpace was kind of just starting out, but email and instant messenger (am I the only one who remembers AIM??) were mostly how young people stayed in touch. Willy and I of course exchange our email addresses, and AIM names. I thought about Christian's advice, and we talked a bit about how we'd be dating other people. "So what happens," I asked, "if we DO see each other again, but we're both with different people?" This sounds corny, but keep in mind, this was awkward, innocent teenage love. "Then," Willy said, "we will be friends, and we will be happy for each other. Would you like that? To be friends?" I nodded, and we embraced. I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and I was surprised when I heard Willy give out a quiet sob. We regained our composure, kissed, and parted ways.

A day or two later was the final day of camp. After several long days of hard work and not enough sleep (not to mention, heat, humidity and rain) it was time to head home. It was a bittersweet day in general. Obviously, working closely with people for a summer, you make some solid friendships, and everyone was saying good bye, promising to stay in touch, etc etc etc. As far as Willy goes, I was actually feeling pretty good about where things were at. I mean, I was sad that we weren't going to be together forever and live happily ever after. But Christian's advice was making more sense the more I thought about it - and it wasn't like we had a fight, or had been cheating on each other, or anything like that. It was just over for reasons outside of our control, and we both knew that, at least subconsciously, the whole time. So I wasn't happy, but I also wasn't paralyzed with depression. But I did want to say a proper good bye to Willy before we headed our separate ways. At this point, the guys with their own cars at camp were starting to head out, and parents were starting to arrive to pick up car-less people like me. I finally found - or rather, heard Willy on the phone in the camp office, having a heated conversation in German. I hovered outside the door, not wanting to eavesdrop, but then I realized I had no idea what Willy was saying, so it wouldn't make any difference if I walked into the office. So I did, and Willy smiled when he saw me, but then returned to his conversation in German. "Is everything OK?" I asked him, when he hung up. He looked distraught. "Mine plane home... the airplane workers... zee are not to work." I tried to understand his German-English that he slipped into when he was stressed, and worked out that the airline staff were on strike, his flight was cancelled, and they were working on getting him on a new flight, but it would probably be a couple of days. Apparently the arrangement between him and the camp didn't account for this possibility, and he wasn't quite sure what to do next. "Why don't you stay with me?" I blurted out without thinking. Willy looked hopeful. "Are you sure?" "Do you have a better idea?" Willy did not have a better idea, and shortly thereafter my parents walked into the office, ready to bring me home. "There you are!" my mom said, giving me a hug, "Were you hiding from us? Didn't want to come home?" I laughed politely, little did my mom know just how right she was. I exchanged the necessary pleasantries with the parents, then introduced them to Willy. "Um, this is Willy, he's a friend of mine. He's from Germany. And he's kind of stuck here because the airline went on strike. Could he stay with us for a couple days until the airline gets his flight straightened out?" I was anxious, as I was not anticipating introducing my parents to my secret boyfriend (if that's even what Willy was, I wasn't sure). My parents were, understandably, caught off guard that I was suddenly asking them to return home with two teenagers, instead of one. I have a lot of issues with my parents, but at the very least, they will help people in need. There were a few conversations with the camp director, a couple phone calls to the airline, and one more long distance call between Willy and his parents back in Germany - but before too long, Willy and I were both loading our belongings into my parents car, and we were on the road for the couple-hours drive back to my house. I was shocked by my good fortune. I mean, I guess it kind of sucked for Willy, but he didn't seem to be in too much of a hurry to head back home.

We got home, and per my parents orders, we showered (separately, of course) then got started on the mountain of laundry we'd hauled back from camp. My dad made dinner - steaks on the grill, and my parents were mostly acting like normal people, and Willy was certainly charming them. My parents informed us that they had a party they were going to, and would probably be out late. I assured them that we'd be fine, we were both so tired after some long days at camp, so we'd probably be in bed asleep long before they got back home. The basement of my house was finished, and we had a couple couches and a TV, as well as a guest bedroom and bathroom. Willy was obviously to use the guest bedroom, which frankly probably had the most comfortable bed in the house. Willy was fascinated by American TV, and we watched some corny sitcoms for a while. We had the house to ourselves, so we were sitting close, Willy was playing footsie with me, and I felt incredibly happy. Willy got up to use the bathroom, and came back and remarked how we had a small Jacuzzi in our downstairs bathroom. "Your parents will be away for hours, right?" he asked. This may sound surprising, but I actually rarely used the Jacuzzi myself. My parents didn't exactly prohibit it, but they'd routinely point out that it wasn't cheap to operate. But, I figured after being away at camp for almost 3 months, I'd earned a night in the Jacuzzi. Willy tugged at my arm - "why don't you go put on your favorite clothes first?" he asked, with a sly smile on his face. Didn't need to tell me twice, and I all but sprinted back upstairs to my bedroom and started rummaging through my closet. I found a pair of black dress pants, an undershirt, a white dress shirt, and a blue vest, along with a pair of black calf-high dress socks. I pulled my bedroom door shut then hurried back downstairs. Willy was waiting for me wearing a really nice pair of dark jeans, a polo shirt, and a maroon sweater. He also had the Jacuzzi filling up with water. "Wow," he said, "you look so nice." We were both obviously turned on, and hugged tightly. "Patrick, would you for me just do one thing?" Willy asked, looking as if he was embarrassed to ask. I nodded, wondering if I had done something wrong to upset him. "Would you," he asked, pausing awkwardly, "would you take off your socks?" I smiled, kissed him, and did as he asked. Then, we got into the hot tub. It felt incredible after being at camp for so long. It felt even more incredible being in there in dress clothes. It felt unlike anything I'd ever felt before being there embracing Willy. We kissed. I had been insecure that I didn't know how to kiss well - but I sure got a lot of practice that night. When our lips were free, we sat and talked. We reminisced about funny stuff that happened at camp, I talked more about my parents, our home lives, and so on. By the time we got out, our finger and toes were wrinkled and our skin was red from the heat. We stripped out of our soaked clothes - the washing machine was right outside the bathroom, so I added them to a load of laundry and we put on dry boxers. "Let's lie down," Willy said, and we headed for the bed in his bedroom, I kicked the door shut behind me. After weeks of sleeping on cots and air mattresses, having a proper queen-sized bed with real sheets, blankets and pillows felt like heaven - and Willy and I didn't waste any time getting down to business.

My plan was to head back up to my own bedroom before my parents got home... but I guess all of the lack of sleep caught up with me, and next thing I know, I was waking up next to Willy, daylight shining through the narrow windows at the top of the basement room. I swore quietly, which woke Willy up. He looked confused, then the problem dawned on him, and he looked at me, scared. "Stay here," I whispered, "maybe my parents aren't up yet." Willy nodded, and I tiptoed out of his bedroom, and listened at the bottom of the stairs. I heard my parents puttering around the kitchen. Uh oh. I quickly thought up a plan that I hoped would work. I pulled laundry out of the dryer, loaded it into a laundry basket, and headed upstairs to face the music.

"Good morning," I greeted my parents, as if nothing unusual was happening. They both had an odd look on their face, and I knew that they at least suspected something, but I wasn't sure exactly what they knew or suspected. I always kept my bedroom door closed, and I doubted they'd check on my bedroom while I was sleeping. But I don't know what they might have seen or heard downstairs - I know I was dead to world when I was sleeping, so anything could have happened. "How did you sleep?" my mom asked. "Ugh, well my sleep schedule is all screwed up. I woke up real early and couldn't fall back asleep, so I went downstairs and watched TV. I must have fallen asleep on the couch down there." My parents looked at me blankly, I couldn't tell whether they believed me or not. One of their tricks was to give me the silent treatment, hoping that I'd speak up and incriminate myself. I'd learned enough to avoid doing that, so I went about my business as if it were a normal day, returning my laundry to my bedroom, putting on clean clothes, and returning to the kitchen for breakfast. "What time did you say you woke up and went down stairs last night?" my dad asked me. "I don't know, maybe 3 or 4 o'clock." "I didn't see you down there on the couch this morning," my dad observed. "I must have been in the bathroom, or the shower," I shrugged, sitting down at the table. My mom grabbed my hand and asked, "are you and Willy a... are you... together?" "No, mom," I groaned. "At least you won't have to argue about who left the toilet seat up," my dad joked. For all of my parents' faults, they at least were not homophobic. The fact that they suspected I was gay wasn't the problem. The problem was deeper than that - they tended to be very belittling, and selfish. "I just can't believe you didn't tell me," my mom pouted - see? Selfish, making it all about her. "Was he impressed with American sausage?" my dad joked. "Did you have sex?" my mom asked, excitedly. I desperately wanted to hit the rewind button on my life and go back to the last night, and just have gone up to my bedroom before falling asleep. "We are NOT talking about this. And you have it all wrong. Nothing happened. We're just friends. NOTHING HAPPENED," I hissed, through gritted teeth. On cue, Willy padded up the stairs, and cautiously looked around, to see whether there was any bloodshed.

"Good morning Willy! Did you sleep well?" my mom gushed, and got to work making breakfast. I slouched in my chair. "I'm heading into the office," my dad announced, "Willy, I'm working on your flight home, hope to have it figured out in a couple hours." "Of course, you can stay AS LONG as you want, dear," my mom assured him. Willy awkwardly looked around, "Thank... thank you," he sputtered. The rest of the morning was quite awkward. My mom kept prodding each of us to reveal the extent of our activities. I felt bad for Willy, who was trying to be polite. I guess the good news was that my parents didn't seem to be mad at all. In fact, they seemed to be quite happy for me. They were just making the situation as awkward and uncomfortable as possible for us.

We decide to meet up with some friends at the swimming pool that day. Willy in his swimsuit was a huge hit with the girls present, and I smirked, feeling that, for the first time in my life, I actually HAD something that other people WANTED. And, I had a chance to fill Willy in on the situation with my parents. Basically, that they thought they knew that we'd at least spent the night together. Willy apologized, and I almost yelled at him, "Don't YOU ever apologize because MY parents are nuts." Willy looked hurt, and I said I was sorry, and was just stressed. Unfortunately the circumstances required that we wear normal swim trunks at the pool, no other clothes. And Willy and I had to keep our hands, feet and lips off of each other for a few hours, but we had a good time meeting my friends, going down the water slides and the usual pool stuff. That afternoon it started to rain, so we headed back to my place and watched TV and played video games. I was still mad at my parents, and didn't know how or if I should talk to them. My dad announced that he'd gotten Willy booked on a flight home for the next day, and I was sad to hear, again, that he'd be leaving. My parents wanted to take us out to dinner at a nice restaurant, and they were quite well behaved, having kind and polite conversation with both me and Willy.

When we got back home, I was finishing up my laundry, while Willy was packing his suitcases. I walked past the living room where my mom was sitting, and she called me name quietly. "What?" I asked, as a typical teenager would. My mom appeared to be trying to be kind and said, "Patrick, if you want to spend the night with your.... with Willy, you can. I won't say anything else about it. You can do whatever you want, I'll leave you alone." I blinked. "Ok..." I said, and turned around and headed back down to the basement. I found Willy in the bedroom packing his suitcase, and I sat down on the edge of his bed. "Well," I said, "my mom said I could spend the night with you. I guess the cat is out of the bag." "What cat?" Willy asked, and I laughed, explaining what the English slang meant. He looked thrilled to learn that the awkwardness with my parents seemed to be over (well, at least for him anyway), and he sat down next to me. Then, he did his signature move and rested his foot on top of mine. I turned to him, smiling, and we hugged as we crawled into bed.

Things felt a little too awkward for us to do anything too crazy, with my parents asleep just a floor above us, so we quietly talked, we kissed, we touched. It was funny in a way, as we repeated the goodbyes we'd shared a few days prior. Eventually, we fell asleep, and when we woke up the next morning, we had to take Willy to the airport. After breakfast, Willy thanked my mom for her kindness, and they shared a hug. My dad would drive us both to the airport, and we spent the drive in a sad, awkward silence. When we got to the airport, Willy shook my dad's hand, and then gave me a hug. Willy also gave me a quick kiss on the check, then gave me one last beautiful smile before heading into the terminal. I think the kiss shocked my dad a bit, but he didn't say anything. I got back in the car for the drive home, staring out the window so that my dad couldn't see the tears in my eyes.

My dad isn't a bad guy, but just doesn't always communicate real well. I could tell he was uncomfortable and trying to figure out what to say to me. He went with, "You miss him." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. I nodded silently. "You're mother and I are very happy for you. It maybe didn't seem that way yesterday. But we are." "Well," I replied sadly, "the happy part is over now," as I rolled further and further away from the airport.

"Its not over," my dad said very slowly and thoughtfully. "Actually... its just getting started."

It turned out, he was right.

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