In the menswear section there were board shorts, not famous brand names, but colourful and rather nice. They were $30 each. There was a rack of swim briefs, in black and navy, and they were half the price. Conscious that he had to be careful with money, Jason shrugged and bought a pair of the navy Speedos. $15 saved was money for food and drink, and he was used to wearing swim briefs for his school's swim team. At the checkout he also bought some suntan lotion. He'd been burnt before, on a holiday to Greece with when he and Brent had gone there on holiday once.
It had been a marvellous holiday. Memories of sun-kissed beaches and translucent seas were intertwined with images of him and Brent at dinner with a bottle of wine, Brent's eyes filled with laughter and love, his skin glowing from a day in the sun, and then later, making love and Brent tasting of salt and sweat and happiness. Of course, that was where the trouble began, and once again Jason castigated himself for not seeing what was happening sooner. His own blindness, his own assumptions, and then, fatally, his own arrogance. How he wished, with all his heart, that he could do it over, and this time do it better.
These bleak reflections made him want to go home and hide, but there was no home any more, and he had nowhere to hide. So he forced himself to keep going, and went looking for the number 1 tram to the beach.
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