Author's Note & Disclaimer: This is a sequel to my story "Necesito Acabar": My Wet Hot Mexican Spring Break, so for full context I'd recommend starting with Part 1. As usual, this story contains graphic depictions of sexual activity and is intended to be read only by adults of legal age in legal contexts. All characters depicted in this story are over 18. Copyright 2021, Quiver. All rights reserved.
Part 2: Truth or Dare
Over the course of the next few days, my dalliance with Santiago had apparently become public knowledge among my teammates. They didn't know the full details, but after Kaitlyn and Roach had witnessed that embarrassing encounter with my mother, it was only a matter of time before the rumors started flying. And it seemed to be helping my popularity, too. My teammates wouldn't stop pestering me for all the dirty details. As the quiet kid on the team, it was a lot to take in. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying the attention.
The one exception to the rule was Jessie. She had always been nice to me, despite the fact that we weren't super close, so there wasn't much of a difference in her behavior now. And I was sure she'd heard the rumors, but so far she'd had the tact not to bug me about it.
It was a few days into Spring Break in Campeche, and we were finally free to let loose a little since the soccer tournament had ended. So, a lot of us had decided to spend the day at the hotel pool, making heavy use of the poolside cocktail bar and the extremely low Mexican drinking age. It had taken some convincing to get my mom to let me spend the day at the pool, but she finally acquiesced after my dad reminded her that we had won the tournament. Even so, she still made me bring my chemistry textbook with me so that I could get some studying done "in my free moments".
Jessie took it upon herself to keep me company while I dutifully tried to study, but we ended up chatting for a few hours by the side of the pool as our teammates splashed around in the water. It turned out that Jessie was super easy to talk to, and now that I had a little bit of confidence and didn't pull away every time she asked me a question or tried to talk to me, we were really getting along. She even bought my drinks so that they didn't show up as a room charge for my mom to get angry about.
Our conversation meandered from topic to topic, everywhere from our excitement and fears about college, to some bad childhood memories, to how boring Dr. Thomas's history class was. Talking to her was so natural. Even the lulls in the conversation felt fluid and painless. Though, to be fair, it didn't hurt that we were both on our third margarita.
"Ughhh, she's so beautifullll" Jessie said with a painful groan, interrupting the relative silence that had been building over the past few minutes.
"Who?" I asked, "Kaitlyn?" looking over to see who Jessie was looking at. "Yeah, she's pretty. So are you, though," I replied.
"No, that's not what I mean," Jessie responded, shaking her head in mild annoyance. "She's
gorgeous
".
"I guess so," I said, not really sure what I was supposed to say. "But Jessie, you're beautiful. You don't have anything to worry about. You're just as gorgeous as Kaitlyn. Maybe even more so." I wasn't lying when I said that. Sure, Kaitlyn was classically hot, but Jessie was adorable. The way her red curls framed her face, and that infectious sideways smile... Plus she was kind, and funny... it wasn't even a contest in my book.
"Nooooo," Jessie replied emphatically, her glass sloshing and threatening to fall out of her grasp. "That's not what I mean. I'm not
jealous
of her."
I was utterly confused at this point. "What do you mean, then?" I asked cautiously.
Jessie let out a heavy sigh. "I think I might love her," she said quietly. She sounded like she was about to cry. She took another sip in what looked like an effort to hold back tears.
I paused, finally understanding what Jessie had meant, but still unsure of what to say. "Oh," I said, trying not to sound judgmental. "I didn't know you were..." I trailed off a little.
"A big lesbo?" Jessie replied with a sharp laugh.
"No!" I denied instinctively. "That's not—I mean, I didn't know you were into girls, that's all."
"Why would you have known?" Jessie replied, a slight edge in her voice. Clearly this wasn't easy for her to talk about.
"How long have you? Known, I mean," I asked gently.
"I don't know," Jessie said. "Always?" She paused for a few seconds. "When everyone else went boy crazy in middle school, I just, never did. It kind of slowly dawned on me after a while that I never really cared about boys the way the other girls did. I mean, they're fine as friends and everything, but I never saw any guy as anything more than that. And then Kaitlyn happened," her voice trailed off wistfully.
"But haven't you and Kaitlyn been close for like, years?" I asked.
"Five. Yeah." Jessie gave another heavy sigh and leaned over into her hands. "I'm so pathetic."
"Hey," I said, placing my hand on Jessie's back. "You're not pathetic. You're like the coolest person I know!"
"You're not weirded out?" Jessie asked as she looked up at me, a deep fear evident in her eyes. I had never seen her so vulnerable. It broke my heart to see her so afraid.
"Of course not!" I replied, holding eye contact as I said so. "Jessie, I'm just sorry you're having to deal with this all on your own. It's gotta be hell to be in love with your best friend, on top of all the other stuff you're having to work through. But the gay thing, it doesn't matter to me at all. You're exactly the same awesome Jessie you were ten minutes ago."
Jessie smiled at me. "You're pretty awesome yourself, Vernon," she said, her voice reverting back to its usual levity. She cleared her throat emphatically, obviously eager to change topics. "So, you gonna tell me about that dude everyone saw you with? Way I hear it, we can't call you "Virgin" anymore," she said with her usual easy smile as she elbowed me in the side.
I blushed, biting my bottom lip in embarrassment.
"Hey, I just spilled the deepest darkest secrets of my heart here," Jessie said with feigned indignation. "You
have
to tell me about your boytoy. It's only fair," she said with satisfaction, leaning back in her chair and taking a big sip of her margarita as she looked at me expectantly.