If there is one thing that Fourth Of July can bring, besides an island full of Drag Queens, fruity cocktails, and all those under thirty, fresh-faces bronzed boys, twirling to and fro, it is mid-summer love-just a neatly packaged seasonal vacation of blissful puppy-love, the kind that makes us think about his kiss, or how his cologne still lingers on your pillow, that type of affair. I envy, even adore, all that fluff and cheesecake, but this one felt a bit more mature, maybe taking us, with fingers crossed, into a full-blown relationship?
Mine happened less then two weeks prior, and had all the makings of very long, late-nighter chats to my best friend Luke, giggling over who kissed whom first, and how fantastic I look dangling from his arm, like a mental charm bracelet that I keep of all the very cute guys to remember.
"You really drink Gin Collins?" Finn asked, as he juggled three cocktails.
I took the drink from him and winked, while Luke grabbed one of the others. Poolside, the five of us-Grady, Will, Luke, Finn, and myself-watched the queens parade their get-ups, costumes, and fanfare galore. My fanfare was Tom Ford tuxedo pants, altered to thigh-baring shorts, and a simple white tank top. Oh, and a studded House Of Field belt, and a wrist full of vintage ghetto-gold '80s ID bracelets. Ok, so maybe not so very simple.
"Just seems so old-school," he added, with a smirk.
"Joey has a drink for every season," said Will. He stripped off his t-shirt, which left him clad in a pair of low-slung surfer shorts.
I rolled my eyes at him and waved my hand mockingly, waiting for him to proceed.
"Gin Collins for summer, Sidecars for fall, and for New Year's Eve, it's always the classic champagne cocktail," said Grady jumping in.
"I'm impressed, Grady. Now what kind of underwear am I wearing?"
I never took note of the black ink that peeked out from under Finn's sleeve. I felt a nudge while I toyed with the idea of getting to make a closer inspection.
"Guys, we are going to take a stroll around," I announced. Finn was on his feet, gulping down the last of his drink.
"Bikini briefs," Luke stated, as I made my way through the crowd.
"I'm thinking a jock," said Will, offering his opinion, while my back was toward them and, apparently, my ass was as well....
"Hey, you have a tattoo?" I asked, taking Finn's hand into mine.
He lifted his sleeve and, at that very moment, this new fling was just about to get flung, hard, and squarely into my face. Saying nothing, I pulled free and lost myself in the crowd.
"You're both wrong," Finn called out throwing a cold look back over his shoulder, catching my three best friends off their guard. "He's wearing"-Finn bite his bottom lip, and he realized at the same moment, I was bound to find out, and that, unfortunately, always comes with very bad timing-"my Navy, military issued boxers"......
