Chapter 3

Surface Tension

Jonah felt the sensation of his body fizzing through the air before he touched down on a small, wooden boat. The sky was brilliant orange, and it held its position and intensity as Jonah’s vessel rocked gently back and forth in the foaming silver sea. He looked beside him and saw Ray, dressed in his pajamas.

“Tha a’ ghealach air a dèanamh le cofaidh Ròmanach,” Ray observed.

“Ngwucha amụ m na-ata mmiri mmiri,” Jonah replied solemnly, nodding his head. 

For a second the sunlight seemed painfully bright, but Jonah was prepared for this turn of events, lifting his hand to shield his eyes and watching it swell to block out the source of the light. As he admired his enormous, disfigured appendage, he noticed the rings of Saturn were sitting lower to the horizon than he expected, though he shrugged it off without a second thought. He realized that his friend from church, Christopher, was standing to his left. Had he been there the whole time? It seemed likely, but it didn’t matter.

“Titties,” Christopher mused, breathing in deeply as if steeling himself for battle, then grabbing his own crotch tightly with his right hand. For the first time since he had been on the soaring, skipping boat—which, come to think of it, was some unknown length of time since he had woken in his bedroom at home and said hi to his dad—Jonah became aware of the insistent, painful stiffness of his own boyhood.

“Titties,” Ray also interjected. He rubbed his chest suggestively through his pajama shirt with both hands, flat palms pushing against his puffed-out chest. Jonah felt his nipples tickle and throb. Ray turned to look him in the eye and squeezed his own butt cheeks with both hands, gripping until his knuckles started to shine white. “Titties,” he panted into Jonah’s face once more, the warm breath sending a rush of warmth through the core of his body.

A serpentine dragon shot from beneath the brilliantine seafoam and roared over their heads with the shockwave of a fighter jet, disappearing into the nothingness at their backs. Jonah looked down at himself and understood he was naked from the waist down, his insistent dickie fattened almost to the point of violent explosion, all three-and-a-half inches of muscle barely being constrained by flesh and blood vessels and skin. And yet, Jonah was not embarrassed or ashamed although he was there alongside his two friends. Ray leaned towards Jonah, adamantine grip almost tearing his buttocks like two globes of mozzarella cheese.

“Titties,” Ray whispered lewdly to Jonah, rolling his eyebrows like two caterpillars. His full, moist, red lips remained parted enough to reveal his neat, square row of bottom teeth, cheeks flushed pink, and eyes hoary with adolescent mist. Jonah saw that Ray was now naked too, his dick somehow harder and hornier even than Jonah’s unbearable tumescence. And though he was there, naked and horny with another boy, stuttering forward across the ocean in great, sudden bursts, somehow this only made Jonah hotter. He made to pull at his pajama top but found that he too was completely naked. 

Remembering Christopher, Jonah turned to him, but found him missing. In his place was Christopher’s older sister, Madison. Madison was thirteen, nearly fourteen, and she was there with Jonah, while he and Ray were naked and aroused beyond the limits of their sanity. And she was naked, too. More naked than Jonah had ever seen a girl before. She wore her hair forward over her shoulders, which was about where the top of Jonah’s head was tall enough to reach on her. There, in all their glory, right at Jonah’s eye level, with nipples so sharp that Jonah blinked involuntarily as if he were about to lose an eye, were…

“Titties…” Jonah drawled, throat dry and scratchy. He moaned softly for the pain in his poor, distended wiener and the prickling sensation of his small balls drawing almost all the way back up into his body. “Eo ambony tafo ny broccoli!” he gasped in wonderment, overwhelmed by the experience. The sky had darkened to a deepest royal blue, and the fiery tingles all over Jonah’s naked skin felt like glitterball raindrops. His tummy felt taut, almost like something was pushing hard to get out of his lower abdomen.

Jonah turned again as if to find Ray, but Ray was gone. There was an island on the horizon; a sandy desert with a single palm tree. Jonah knew instinctively that Ray had gone there. He had to join him! But his tummy was so heavy… Jonah lost focus for a second. His world roiled, and the stars in the violet sky pulsed all the colors of the spectrum in random order. Jonah caught himself. There was a lump in his lower abdomen like a swelling volcano. Madison was no longer with him, but she too must be on the island. He could see her there, one of two figures just waiting for him to reach out. They waved to him, these silhouettes, now outlined against burning vermillion light, not so much a sky as a flaming panorama. It was Ray and Madison, Jonah knew it. One was male, the other female. He knew it was Madison. He could almost picture the satin of her skin, her…

“Titties,” Jonah grunted one last time, his voice squeaking with exertion, as he took two steps to the prow of the boat and lurched his heavy stomach forward, turgid, unflinching dick bouncing along with his movement, as he launched himself over the remaining water and to the island. His right foot landed first, but he didn’t splash down—he didn’t even feel water—he just ran, legs cartwheeling with all their might. A hop, a skip, and a jump, and Jonah was propelled all the way across the ocean, landing in a warm, fuzzy, heaped bundle on the searing beach, the sand prickling all about his naked skin, fizzing and burning in grains of glitterball raindrops.

Jonah reached up, temporarily blinded by his predicament and yet somehow feeling safer, more secure than he had yet on his journey. His stomach felt like a bowling ball, and he knew his dick was still hard enough to snap right off if he were to twist it. It was riotously uncomfortable, and so Jonah reached further. He knew somewhere here he would find relief. Something warm, the form of someone’s side in a loose-fitting cardigan. A gentle hand gliding through his hair, lovingly stroking at his scalp. It was safe here, Jonah knew it, though he bucked awkwardly from the bloating building within his midriff. He felt a sensation not unlike letting a dribble of pee out, and for a second he was concerned.

“Jonah?” a voice called to him.

Jonah opened his eyes. A familiar face smiled down at him, a healthy face, unwearied by the worries of the world.

“Mom?”

Jonah’s mom opened her mouth as if she were about to say something more, to impart some secret wisdom into his very soul, but Jonah’s eyes were heavy, and his tummy and private parts were in pain. He blinked a long, slow blink. That was enough. Even before his eyes had reopened, there was a great rushing feeling around him, like air billowing past in all directions at once, as if he had fallen from an airplane. Everything had gone, save a light in the distance, his mother on the island no longer visible in the ever diminishing disc. Within nanoseconds, it was a pinprick, and Jonah understood he was about to…

“Oof!” Jonah vocalized sharply, taking a few seconds to come to his senses and realize he was in bed at camp. His bladder ached for relief, his penis swollen awkwardly with his juvenile desperation to urinate. Jonah shifted, not totally willing to leave the safety of his bunk, but knowing he had no other option if he wanted to avoid simply lying there and having a great big accident all over the nice, rustic camp furniture. Almost doubled over from the pain of it, and barely clinging onto control of his pelvic muscles, Jonah was awkwardly able to swing his legs free and begin to slide himself painstakingly from his bed.

“Crap!” Jonah hissed to himself, grabbing his dick to pinch it closed as he felt himself almost let go and finding that his fingers met an already rather sizable wet patch. He had been dreaming, he knew that much, though he had no memory of what it had been about. What he did know is that he had definitely felt like he released a jet of pee in the dream, and that was not good news. He had to let the rest out, and fast—else he was in for disaster! Griffin, and especially Paris, would never let him live it down if he peed himself at camp. Not that Jonah would want that to happen in front of Ray, either, however cool he might be about it…

Jonah donned his glasses and slid himself down gently from the bunk, one hand gripping the bed frame to ease his descent, the other still pinching his peepee to keep it from spilling anything more into his undies. His toes touched down gracefully enough on the cold ground to prevent him from losing his bladder completely, and he looked around to check he hadn’t woken Ray with his movement.

“Huh?” Jonah peeped to himself, feet shuffling awkwardly on the spot as he danced against the pressure in his body to go. Either he was delirious from his overwhelming need for the bathroom, or Ray was gone. Jonah knew he didn’t have time to think about it too long—he needed to get outside quickly and let go wherever it was safe. As he turned to waddle free of the cabin, Jonah was immediately aware of something else very strange, too: Griffin and Paris weren’t there either. Every bunk in the cabin was empty, now including his own as he gave in wondering and ran for the freedom of the outside—and the nearest possible tree.


Ray crinkled his nose as he wriggled against his assailant—the hand covering his mouth emanating a disgusting smell of stale smoke. With most of his body immobilized under the person’s grip, he tried biting the hand in desperation but found himself unable to have his teeth make contact. As a last resort, he closed his eyes and stuck his tongue out, and shuddered as it made contact against the gross skin.

“Nasty!” the person cried, unclasping Ray’s mouth to slide his palm against his shorts. It was Griffin, and Ray lowered his guard when he noticed Paris off to the side, still only dressed in his weird boxers.

“You guys scared me!” Ray said, panting.

“What you doin’ spying on us?” Griffin demanded, bending Ray forwards as he secured his wrists.

“Sorry, I wasn’t,” Ray grunted as Griffin tightened his grip. “I just wanted to see where you were going!”

Paris scoffed as he folded his arms. “That’s spying.”

Griffin gripped both of Ray’s thin wrists in one hand and used the other to squeeze Ray’s shoulder and turn him around.

“Is anyone else with you? Where’s Jonah?” he questioned, looking around.

“Ow,” Ray whined, trying to pull away, but Griffin held firm. “Jonah’s sleeping. He doesn’t know I left. No one else is here.”

Griffin let go, and Ray stumbled forward and brushed his shoulder. “Go back to the cabin,” he said.

“But what are you guys doing out here?” Ray asked.

Griffin raised an eyebrow at Paris, who turned to study Ray, scraping his tongue along the back of his top teeth. He then began circling Ray, looking him up and down.

“What?” Ray asked nervously, feeling self-conscious about being inspected.

“I don’t think he’s experienced enough,” Paris said to Griffin, smiling slyly.

“For what?” Ray asked, innocently holding his wrist.

“Oh, you really wanna know?” Paris asked him, flexing his toes against the dirt and leaves.

“Well, yeah!”

“Okay, Ray, follow us, and maybe we’ll let you join,” Paris teased, walking off.

“Join? Like, a secret club?” he called after him.

“Sort of,” Griffin chuckled, then checked over his shoulder to make sure nobody else was following them. “C’mon.”

The three strode towards the lake dock, cutting through the grass until they were back on the familiar dirt path. Rays of moonlight poked through the trees, lighting their way. Off in the distance, Ray could see the lake, beautifully reflecting the bright white ball of light in the sky. The area was so lively earlier in the day; it felt almost creepy and abandoned now.

“So, how many people are in the club?” Ray asked after they had been walking in mostly silence.

“A lot!” Paris replied. “Griffin and I are s’posed to recruit more peeps, but we gotta make sure that—ow!”

Griffin interrupted him with an elbow in the side. “Paris! Rule six!” he cautioned.

“Oh, right,” Paris said, then thought for a second. “Wait, that’s not rule six! You’re thinking of rule two!”

“Ah! You’re right! Could also be rule one as well.”

“Okay well, what do I have to do first?” Ray asked.

“Stop asking questions, first off,” Griffin said. “We’ll show you everything you need to know to join.”

As they came upon the dock, Ray noticed Paris’s backpack placed down on it with a bunch of junk spilling out. Paris sat down next to it cross-legged and fished around inside. He pulled out a peculiar metal square and a red cylindrical object with a blue label, handing it to Griffin.

“What’s that stuff?” Ray asked.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop asking questions?” Paris chided, flicking open what Ray could now see was a Zippo lighter with a shiny, silver, circular symbol engraved into it.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Griffin said to Ray, making a zipped-lips motion with two fingers. “And Paris, keep your damn mouth shut this time, please! We’re lucky only Ray heard you last time.”

“Don’t say any more funny shit then and it’s a deal,” Paris said.

Griffin opened the tube and pulled out a white cigarette-looking object and handed it to Paris. After a few chk-chk sounds, the lighter spewed a small, golden flame that Paris used to ignite the end of the object.

“Is that a cigarette?” Ray asked, staring wide-eyed at the strange-looking thing that emitted an unpleasant skunk-like smell. Paris sucked in and blew out a smooth cloud of white smoke towards Ray, who batted it away with an open palm and crinkled nose.

“Come sit here,” Paris instructed, patting the dock in front of him. Ray cautiously sat down across from him, dirt collecting all over his pajama bottoms. “You’re going to breathe in, hold it in your lungs for five seconds, then exhale. Got it?”

Ray nodded, trying to will his body to stop trembling as nervousness built inside him. Whatever they were about to do, it felt forbidden. Paris sucked in another lungful and reached out to grab Ray by the shoulders.

His puffed-out cheeks caused Ray to picture him as a squirrel, and he giggled, both from nervousness and the funny image. “What are you doing?” he asked with a tense smile.

Paris leaned forward, then tilted his head to the side and pressed his lips against Ray’s, whose eyes shot open in surprise. At Paris’s insistent tap on the back of his shoulder, he parted his lips, and he felt the smoke pour inside of him. After they broke apart, Ray sat back, dazed, but remembered to count down from five. At the end of it, he let it billow out of his mouth and started coughing, pulling his pajama shirt up to cough into.

“One more,” Paris said and repeated the shotgun into Ray’s mouth.

Ray felt another coughing fit coming and did his best to hold it back, coughing a few times into his mouth and giving a thumbs up. He then released the smoke from his lungs into the warm air. It was cool watching it dissipate into the night. His eyes felt dry, and he wiped his mouth with his wrist. Griffin, who was standing above them, swiped the joint from Paris and took a single puff before handing it back.

“How do you feel?” Paris asked Ray as he fixed his hair.

“Kinda weird, I think,” Ray replied. His skin felt a little tingly, maybe a little more sensitive than normal. He waved his hand in front of his face, but nothing seemed all that unusual.

“Fuck, ‘cause I’m really high,” Paris said, leaning backward and sprawling out on the dock.

“And I’m really hard!” Griffin exclaimed. “That was fucking hot! You lot should make out.”

Ray pretended like he didn’t hear what Griffin said—that would be super weird if two boys did that—but when Paris started crawling up his body like he had done when they were hiding together, he yelped in real surprise. With little in the way of consent, Paris planted his lips against Ray’s, swiping his tongue along Ray’s firmly closed lips.

Ray’s head was spinning; it was beginning to feel as if yogurt had been poured onto his brain, and giggled at the thought before remembering the situation at hand. He gently pushed Paris back and rubbed his forehead. “Uh, I think maybe I should go back to the cabin…”

“Why?” Paris asked. “Oh, I get it. You don’t actually want to join the Omen Rose.”

“I still don’t know what that is!” Ray said with growing annoyance.

Paris jumped him again, prodding Ray’s lips relentlessly until Ray finally gave in and allowed the older boy’s tongue to penetrate his mouth. He was disgusted; this kind of thing wasn’t right. Paris’s tongue swiped across his, leaving behind a mild, sweet flavor. Ray recognized it quickly as cherry, and… didn’t Griffin have a cherry-flavored Ring Pop? Figures he would have stolen it. Paris continued kissing him for a few moments before pulling away.

“C’mon, get your shirt off,” he demanded, tugging Ray’s pajama shirt upwards and exposing his lower belly.

“Paris, please… I don’t wanna—” Ray pleaded.

Paris refused to let him speak, barking his demands over him. “Put your arms up.”

Ray sighed, accepting that he probably wasn’t going to get out of this without letting them get whatever it is they wanted. He lifted his arms as Paris pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it to the side. It landed on the edge of the dock, nearly falling into the lake. Ray crossed his arms, hiding his belly button.

“We love your sexy chest, Ray,” Griffin said, and Ray almost laughed at his compliment. What an odd thing to say.

Paris went in for another kiss. Their bare chests grazed together, and Ray tried to suppress a giggle at the exceptionally sensitive touch as his nipples rubbed against Paris’s skin. Paris moaned and ground his chest harder against Ray’s.

Ray felt something hard poking against his thigh and giggled. “Stop, that tickles,” he said, squirming and giggling beneath Paris.

Paris grinned. “Just wait ‘til we get to the real tickles.”

“Mmmmm,” Griffin moaned from behind him. Ray gasped when he turned and found him with his shorts and underwear tugged down, with his big, erect penis hanging out. Having never seen another male’s penis before, it looked almost alien to him—nearly twice as big as his own, with a large, dangling pair of nuts that jiggled as Griffin rubbed up and down the length of his shaft with his closed fist.

“What are you doing?!” Ray cried, mouth agape.

“Wanking!” Griffin excitedly replied. “This is sexy!”

Griffin seemed to take no issue with Ray looking at his exposed private parts, which was a good thing for Ray because his curiosity was getting the better of him; he couldn’t stop staring. There was a dark patch of hair above his penis, which seemed strange to Ray. Was he supposed to have hair in that spot? Did Paris have hair there, too? What was even weirder, was that there seemed to be some sort of symbol behind the hair. He squinted; there definitely seemed to be some kind of tattoo or drawing underneath the small patch of brown hairs: a broken circle with a dot in the middle.

Ray vs. Paris

Hang on, Ray thought. That’s the symbol on Paris’s lighter!

He spun his head around and saw that Paris had removed his shorts, standing with his hands on his hips. Compared to Griffin, Paris’s dick was much smaller. Maybe even smaller than his own. In addition, the head was a completely different shape. Maybe all penises were totally unique, sort of like a person’s voice. Like Griffin, the same circular symbol was visible under Paris’s sparse trace of pubic hairs.

“Like what you see?” Paris said, thrusting his hips and spearing his erect penis forward. His quip signaled to Ray that it was probably okay to look at his, too.

“Why’s the end funny-looking?” Ray asked.

Paris frowned. “Wha—it’s not funny! I bet yours is the funny one.”

He raised his hands and wiggled his fingers as he began moving towards Ray. Ray backed away from, but ended up bumping into Griffin, who caught him and restrained his arms. He could feel Griffin’s huge, gross penis poking his bare back, and grimaced in disgust while he arched his back away.

“Stop!” he shouted, battling against the unwavering grip. As Paris approached him, he raised his leg defensively.

“Kick me and I’ll punch you in the nuts,” Paris declared.

Ray feebly set his foot back on the ground. Paris walked over, rubbing his hands together, and hooked his fingers into the waistband of Ray’s pajamas. Ray shut his eyes, grimacing as Paris ripped the bottoms down his legs, exposing his privates. He tried to turn away and hide himself, but Paris grabbed his hips and straightened him out.

“I didn’t know you were British too,” Paris laughed, lifting Ray’s flaccid shaft from below with a finger.

“Knobhead,” Griffin mumbled, rolling his eyes at him.

Paris pinched the loose fold of skin at the tip of Ray’s penis, causing him to shiver. He’d never felt this vulnerable before. Even Paris’s cabinet antics were tame compared to this embarrassing situation. Paris slid the tip of his index finger along Ray’s tender foreskin, his fingernail lightly grazing against it, then finally grabbed the entirety of his shaft.

“Look, he don’t even got a dick head!” Paris said, laughing. Ray felt Griffin’s hot breath on him as he peered over his shoulder, and now with both boys staring at his privates, he wanted to leave more than anything. The butterflies fluttering in his stomach felt more like angry wasps trying to escape his insides.

“Can I please go back to the cabin?” Ray begged. “I don’t think I want to join the club anymore.”

“Too late,” Paris said, kneeling down and taking Ray’s dick in both hands. He pushed on the skin of his shaft, forcing the reddened head to roll out into the open air and exposing Ray’s most private and sensitive part of his body.

Ray tried wriggling again against Griffin, but his grip remained firm. Then, when he didn’t think things could possibly get any worse, his penis twitched once, then twice, lifting up slowly like an inflating balloon.

“You’re getting hard,” Paris teased with a smile, tickling the underside of the growing shaft with a finger. The wasps in his stomach were going crazy now, begging for an end to the madness.

“What if someone sees us?” Ray pleaded, knowing full well that nobody was coming for them.

“They’d probably jizz their pants,” Griffin said, pulling a laugh from Paris. Ray didn’t get it, dismissing it as another strange British phrase.

Ray’s penis continued to stiffen against his will, the head of it rolling further out of his foreskin with each consecutive, uniform pulse. Why were they doing this to him? Was there even a club, or were they just looking to embarrass him?

A new feeling emerged when Paris cupped his balls, rolling the orbs around inside the taut skin, and began gently stroking his shaft, stretching the skin back and forth like an ocean tide. An unknown sensation fluttered through him, slightly pleasant, that started at the tip of his dick and flowed down his shaft and into his balls.

“That feels really weird,” he told Paris, but Paris ignored him, wholly focused on his task.

Delicately, Griffin lowered Ray to the ground. Ray was no longer in the mood to struggle, and lay on the dock, feeling the rough texture of the wood against his back. Griffin towered above him and grasped his mighty erection, stroking himself as he watched the incredibly erotic scene unfolding in front of him. Ray averted his eyes and saw that Paris was still glued to his genitals, with his boner sticking straight up and twitching as he fondled Ray.

Griffin caught a reflected glint of the moon in a small bead of clear liquid that had formed at the slit of Paris’s circumcised dick, rubbing his tongue against the inside of his lips as he thought about its sweet taste.

His eyes wandered to Ray, and his small, perfectly skinny body. To him, Paris was his perfect mate, but in many ways, Ray’s appearance was quite similar. Though he lacked Paris’s subtle muscle definition, he made up for it with creamier, smoother-looking skin. Traveling downwards, he watched Paris manipulate his handsome, uncut penis. As he looked between their cocks, a realization dawned on him.

“Ray’s prick is bigger than yours,” Griffin announced with a smirk.

“What?” Paris cried, stopping his stroking. “Bullshit!” he said, glancing between their erections.

Griffin licked his lips. “Put them together,” he suggested in a husky whisper, increasing the pace of his stroking. “It’s a good way to measure.”

“Fine,” Paris said with a huff. He threw a leg over Ray’s midsection, straddling him, and scooted up until their balls were aligned.

The warmth of Paris’s body felt weird to Ray, and the contact caused ticklish sensations all along his thighs. Then, Paris pushed his penis against Ray’s.

“Mmm,” he moaned as his frenulum rubbed against Ray’s satiny foreskin. Calming himself, he wrapped a hand around both shafts and squeezed them. Griffin was right—Ray’s tip inched a fair way past his own. “Okay, fine,” he said, using his thumb to press his head against Ray’s dick again, shivering as he elicited more pleasure for his young body. “Nhhh! Barely, though.”

Ray draped a hand over his forehead as if to check his temperature. “My head feels weird,” Ray said.

“How does your dick feel?” Griffin asked.

“I dunno.”

“Is it good, or bad?”

“A little bit good, I guess,” he answered truthfully.

Griffin was hoping for a little more enthusiasm from the new recruit. “Maybe I should take over—”

“No! I got this,” Paris said. He tightened his fist around the penises and started jerking, occasionally stopping to squeeze and rub the heads together. “How’s that?” he asked Ray.

As much as Ray wanted to simply escape, he couldn’t deny that, well… it felt more than a little bit good. The sporadic flickers of pleasurable feelings started to grow more and more frequent, and his little heart was starting to beat faster and faster. Still, he wasn’t about to admit that to Paris, and instead gave a light shrug of his shoulders.

“Damn, that’s so fucking sexy,” Griffin whispered, now sitting on his knees as he watched them, stroking his engorged dick. He peered between Ray’s legs, hoping to catch a glimpse of his butthole, but Ray wasn’t giving him the angle, and he wasn’t about to interrupt the moment.

The intensity of pleasure in Ray’s penis seemed to be growing. Now, whenever Paris stopped for a small break, or to switch hands, he felt a brief moment of disappointment before things picked up again. He started to become aware of Paris’s borderline carnal breathing and realized that his breathing had also involuntarily picked up. Paris closed his eyes, leaning further over Ray, his nuts now lightly smacking against Ray’s with each consecutive pump.

Ray shut his eyes, trying to process the wealth of new feelings, but it was impossible to sort through everything at once. If his head didn’t feel so clouded it might have been easier, but even so, the intensifying pleasure began to claw at his attention, ripping his focus away from anything that wasn’t related to what was directly happening to his dick at that moment. The waves of good feelings were no longer restricted to his genitals but were now radiating through his body, down to the tips of his toes, and all the way up to his brain. Was this all happening from the smoke?

Suddenly, his hips thrust forward without any conscious input, burrowing his shaft further into Paris’s closed fist. The motion only served to generate additional pleasure and elicit yet another thrust, a recursive cycle which became impossible to escape as he helplessly fucked the older boy’s hand, his fingers and toes clenching and releasing madly. There was simply no comparable sensation. Each consecutive thrust was a new high, and every new surge of pleasure dampened his connection to the rest of reality. Desiring some semblance of control back, he reached his hand out, but it bumped fruitlessly into Paris’s rapidly jerking fist.

The urge to fight back and break the connection was becoming increasingly impossible as the rest of the world faded from perception. In this new void, the waves of pleasure materialized as gentle ripples of water beneath them, but when Ray’s eyes slowly fluttered open, he was looking into a massive, distant tidal wave.

“Paris! Paris, stop!” he urged, but the words had no impact on the older boy, who continued stroking with closed eyes.

Ray balled his fists, trying to suppress the intense sensations, but it did not affect the approaching tsunami that towered over him, engulfing him in its shadow. There was nothing left to do except close his eyes and brace himself. As doubt and fear started to take over, a familiar internal voice whispered two simple words to him: let go.

He cried out as the dam finally broke and the wave crashed over him, demolishing him like a sand castle as a torrent of pleasure never before known was unleashed. His erection throbbed and kicked with waves of ecstasy that radiated out from his tip like a radio tower.

“Whoa, he’s cumming!” Paris grinned and looked over at Griffin.

“Holy moly that’s sexy,” Griffin whispered, furiously pumping away at his cock.

Ray curled forward, expelling wind from his nose as Paris continued to stroke their dicks in tandem. He gritted his teeth, eyeballs rolling up until his orgasm peaked and began to subside, and fell back, spent, onto the dock. Awareness returning, he was finally able to reflect on whatever had just happened. What the hell was that?

Paris’s continued stroking started to irritate his highly sensitive dick, and he wriggled his waist to dislodge his appendage from Paris’s fist. The older boy barely regarded his departure, urgently jerking his cock as his hand appeared as a blur to Ray. Moments later, Paris began exhaling loudly from his nose.

Fuuuck!” Paris said through a strained voice, and leaned forward, shutting his eyes. With a whimper, his body went taut, and his dick shot out a small jet of liquid onto Ray’s panting chest, followed by another single sticky string.

“Eugh!” Ray groaned, horrified. The bizarre cloudy fluid that streaked his belly felt disturbingly warm. “What the hell? Did you just pee on me?”

Paris only whimpered, his feeble attempt at a reply, trembling as a final drop of sperm dripped onto Ray’s chest. Ray scurried out from under him and stood up.

“What’s your problem? Why did you pee on me?” Ray shouted, looking down at his belly, furious and appalled that Paris would do such a disgusting thing.

Paris laughed, swiping a finger across the tip of his dick and collecting some of the remaining sticky fluid, then noticed Ray gawking at him. “I didn’t. Relax.”

“Yeah, you did!” Ray asserted. “What the heck is your problem? That’s so gross!”

Paris rolled his eyes and fetched Ray’s discarded pajama shirt from the edge of the dock. Before Ray could stop him, Paris used it to wipe up the ejaculate from Ray’s chest.

“Dude!” Ray squeaked and shoved Paris again. 

Paris stomped his foot on the ground before advancing menacingly toward him. “Don’t fucking touch me, idiot,” he said, balling up Ray’s shirt, and tossing it into the lake.

Ray gasped and leaped to the edge of the dock, reaching for the shirt that was slowly floating further away. Moments later, his pants went soaring over his head, joining the shirt.

“What’s your effing problem, buddy?” Ray hollered, his voice cracking with emotion. Paris only scoffed in response and walked away from him, over to Griffin, who was still jerking off.

“I’m close, take over,” Griffin said to him. Paris smiled and nodded, falling to his knees and placing his lips around Griffin’s overworked shaft. “Mmm,” he purred, gripping his head and thrusting in and out of his suctioning mouth.

Ray darted around frantically, searching for anything he could use to retrieve his pajamas. He finally spotted a partly submerged stick by the shore and sprinted over to grab it. Once he was back on the dock, he crawled to the edge and poked out with the stick, but only managed to push the wet cotton lump even further away.

“Help me!” he begged, but the two other boys were too preoccupied with Griffin’s penis to even acknowledge his struggle.

Paris’s mouth did just the trick, and Griffin grunted twice and thrust his dick as far inside Paris as it could go. His fingers tightened roughly around Paris’s head as his balls began pumping out warm sperm. Paris gagged, pulling away and coughing as trickles of semen dripped down his chin, spitting out the rest.

“Bro, say something,” he mumbled as he plucked off a few strips from the toilet paper and wiped the goop from his lips and chin.

As Griffin came down from his orgasm, he opened his eyes and found Ray reaching over the edge of the dock, trying to fish his pajamas out of the water. With an agitated growl, Ray flung the useless stick into the lake and jumped to his feet.

Griffin frowned, feeling for the poor boy. Paris certainly wasn’t being the nicest to Ray, but he knew it wasn’t because Paris wanted to be mean. Rather, Griffin was very familiar with how Paris tended to not consider others’ feelings, prioritizing his own… Ray took a few steps back, and Griffin quickly realized he was posturing himself for a jump.

“Ray, no!” he shouted, but the boy was already airborne by the time the words left his mouth. 

Ray yelled madly as he soared through the air, plunging into the water with a massive splash. Immediately, an icy chill rushed its way up Ray’s spine; the polar opposite of the immense pleasure he’d just enjoyed. It shocked him into full alertness, ridding some of the remaining smoky haze that clouded his mind. Orienting himself, he surfaced, taking a deep, shaky breath. Paris turned to Griffin, mouth agape.

“Shit!” he said, then ran over to his stuff by the base of the dock. He slipped into his boxers and stuffed the toilet paper inside the backpack, which he then threw around his shoulder.

Griffin pulled up his boxers and ran over to Paris, but something caught his eye in the distance. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed, pointing at a distant beam of light approaching from a way down the path. Paris took him by the wrist and they ran off towards the trees. Griffin turned his head to offer the struggling Ray one last solemn glance before disappearing into the forest.

He was in water. Deep water. Cold and dark water. And yet, for a moment, when he submerged from it, a strange sensation of peace settled over him. He was in water—he’d done it!

As the shock from the chill started to fade, Ray slowly waded around, searching for his lost pajamas. Wherever they were, their dark color certainly didn’t help them stand out from the nearly-black water. His teeth were chattering, and he prayed he was moving in the right direction.

While swimming, something bubbled nearby in the water. He snapped his head in the direction of it, but it was too dark to see anything. Then, behind him, he could swear he heard a small splashing sound. His heart rate picked up as all the possibilities of what could have caused it flashed through his mind. He swung around, hoping to catch the “it” in action, but only saw darkness. It was, in a way, somewhat more horrifying: the unknown.

Turning back around, he tried continuing straight, but his arms were beginning to tire. Was it his imagination, or were the crickets becoming louder, blaring almost deafeningly in his ears? He felt so small in that massive body of water.

Something brushed up against his ankle, and he just about lost it. Lunging forward at a breakneck pace, he swam towards what he thought was the shore, but water obscured his vision. He stopped to wipe his eyes, feeling some kind of shadow looming over him. He had kept the simple phrase locked away in the depths of his subconscious, but the walls were beginning to crack, and the words slipped through them: there’s something in the water

Gasping loudly, he switched directions, hell-bent on getting out of the dreadful lake, pajamas be damned. In his mind, the image of the nightmare serpent appeared, breaching the surface of the lake. Fear turned to panic as his arms refused to obey him, and he found he could only splash around in place.

“Ray?!” someone called. Turning around, Ray identified Jonah’s silhouette running down the dock, the moonlight illuminating his worried face.

Ray waved his hands in the air. “Help me, Jonah!” 

Filling with adrenaline, Jonah sprinted to a nearby wooden shack on the shore, but the door was shut and locked. Uncertain where else to look, he ran back to the base of the dock, watching his friend thrashing around in the middle of the intimidating lake.

He took his glasses off and threw them into the grass. I can’t believe I’m doing this, he thought, and took a running start, launching himself off the dock into the lake. He plummeted into the depths, surrounded by intense, cold darkness, not able to tell which way was even up.

Ray watched, horrified, the awareness of the seriousness of the situation dawning on him. Now Jonah, the boy who couldn’t swim, was hidden somewhere under the deathly waters. Could he even swim back to the surface on his own? The adrenaline that was now flowing through his body propelled him into action, and he dove down in pursuit of the sinking boy. Even with his eyes open, it was too dark to see anything. He flailed his arms around, yearning to touch anything, but his arms freely passed through the empty water without any sign of Jonah.

He returned to the surface to catch his breath and pushed his soaking hair out of his eyes.

“Jonah?!”

Scanning around, there was still no sign of Jonah anywhere. He took a deep breath and prepared for another dive, when he noticed tiny bubbles a few feet away from him, at the surface, barely visible. His earlier fear of the unknown creature had been completely replaced by the urgent obligation to save his friend, and he dove back under, making as large of movements with his arms as he could to cover as much ground as possible.

After what felt like minutes—but in reality, was only a few seconds—his hand bashed into something, and he reached out with both hands to grab what felt like Jonah’s clothing. Pulling on it, the weight confirmed that it was indeed Jonah, and after collecting his energy, he held on and kicked his legs, propelling both of them upward.

Both boys breached the surface at the same moment, spitting out water, but Jonah wasn’t able to stay up for long and once again sunk his head under the water mid-breath. Ray grabbed Jonah’s waist and, using all his might, managed to lift his head back out of the water. It was pointless, though, as seconds later Jonah fell back underneath the rippling water. Thinking quickly, he turned and lifted Jonah, pulling his arms over his shoulders, and tried swimming with Jonah on his back. The task was difficult, and Ray himself frequently had his face dunked underwater, but somehow Ray was eventually able to swim them back to shore.

Ray rolled Jonah off of him, and they both crawled onto shore with dirt and pine needles sticking uncomfortably to their hands. Jonah coughed, spitting out some water before turning to Ray.

“Ray!” he shouted. Without his glasses, he couldn’t see much, but after looking at him for a few seconds, it seemed like Ray was… naked? “Oh, gosh!” he yelped, turning away. “Sorry!”

The realization struck Ray too, and he gasped, pulling his legs to his chest, too ashamed to even respond.

“Um, wow,” Jonah said, touching the back of his neck. “You saved me!”

Ray blushed, burying his face between his knees. “You saved me!

“So… what happened to your, uh—”

“Who’s out there?” a woman’s voice called, startling them both.

A bright light shone on them, and they covered their eyes as a group of four counselors approached them in sleepwear and coats, several of them holding flashlights. Ray’s stomach sank, and he wrapped his arms around his knees, preparing for ultimate humiliation.

“What are you two…” she trailed off as her flashlight beam focused on two wet, exhausted-looking boys who stared back with wide, terrified eyes. “What the hell?” she said, pointing the flashlight away.

The counselors cautiously approached them, inspecting the rest of the area.

“It’s,” Jonah began, his teeth chattering. “W–we’re—”

“Where are your clothes?” the other woman asked the poor, trembling Ray, helpless to cover himself up any better than he already was.

“We g–got lost on the way t–to the bathroom,” Jonah lied, shivering. He wrapped his arms around himself when he was licked by a chilly gust of wind.

The counselor clicked her tongue compassionately. “Oh, sweeties.”

“Hey, how about we handle this,” one of the men said, placing himself between the women and the boys. “You ladies go back to the office. Henry and I will handle this.”

The two women nodded and hurried off as the male counselors came over to Ray and Jonah. Henry knelt and took his coat off, placing it around petrified Ray’s shoulders. The unexpected warmth was a much-needed break from the otherwise bone-chilling circumstances.

“What the hell are you two doing out here?” Henry asked them.

“R–Ray was, um, well I woke up and everyone was gone, and,” Jonah sputtered, then took a hasty breath. “I came and Ray was in t–the lake, and I wanted to help, but—”

“Slow down, Jonah, breathe,” he said, holding his hands up. Jonah obeyed, closing his eyes as he steadied his breathing. Henry turned to Ray. “And Ray? What happened to your clothes?”

Ray stared blankly at the ground. Watching him reminded Henry of a similar situation from the previous year of camp. He frowned sympathetically and patted his shoulder before Jonah resumed his retelling.

"Ray was in the lake, and I didn’t know if he was hurt, or what! So I jumped in to try and save him. It was stupid, though, because I can’t swim at all! But I knew I couldn’t just stand there!”

The four of them turned when they heard someone clear their throat nearby. It was the two female counselors.

“Henry. Jared.” Ray recognized the speaker as the lady who gave the announcements at the beginning of camp. Her face was sour as she looked in the direction of the boys. The two men stood up as Henry addressed her.

“Hm? What’s up, Sam?”

“We found something concerning on the dock.”

Confused, Henry and Jared looked between each other before walking with the women a short distance away so they could discuss whatever it was in private.

Ray had mentally separated himself from the situation and hardly acknowledged their departure. He gazed out over the dark lake, wondering how things would have gone if Jonah hadn’t shown up. More importantly, he wondered, do dead bodies float?

“You’re being real quiet,” Jonah said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Ray cleared his throat and wriggled his butt against the ground, trying futilely to shake off some of the gravel sticking to it. “Nuh-uh,” he replied meekly.

Jonah frowned. “Ray, did Paris and Griffin push you in the lake?” he asked, looking around.

Ray hesitated. Did he want to admit that he jumped in on his own? “Um, sorta…”

“Sorta? What the heck does that mean?”

“I’ll tell you about it later.” In truth, he wasn’t sure if he could tell Jonah much about anything that had happened that night.

“Well, what about your pajamas?”

Ray sighed. “Paris threw them in,” he admitted.

Jonah scowled. “Those guys are pure evil.”

“I guess,” Ray replied hesitantly. Truthfully, he thought Griffin was fairly nice, and even though Paris was the meaner one, he did have a soft side to him… and soft lips…

“Ray, Jonah,” Harry said, drawing their attention. The rest of the counselors followed behind him at a distance. “Mind explaining what this is?” he asked, holding out a burned-out, half-smoked joint between his finger and thumb.

Ray clenched his fists under the coat. He’d forgotten all about that, and here it was back to bite him in the ass.

“That’s not ours!” Jonah objected.

“It wasn’t here this afternoon,” Henry said calmly, “So how did it get here?”

“I don’t know! I’d never do anything like that!” Jonah asserted. “And neither would Ray.”

“Then why did we find your glasses near it?” Sam, the head counselor said, holding out Jonah’s hallmark thick-framed glasses. “Smell their breaths.”

Henry glared at them. Poor Ray had tucked himself further into the coat, and Jonah's hands were shivering as he wrung out the bottom of his shirt. Jonah was probably right, there was no way these dorky kids had anything to do with drugs. He took the glasses from Sam and knelt next to Jonah.

“I believe you,” he said to him, peering back at the women. ”But I have to check.”

Jonah nodded understandingly, and Henry handed his glasses to put on. Lifting his neck, Jonah opened his mouth and breathed in Henry’s face. The only thing he smelled was minty toothpaste.

“Yeah, he’s clear,” Henry told the ladies, and Jonah breathed a sigh of relief. 

Sam pointed at Ray. “Him, too!”

The blood drained from Ray’s face as he bundled up further into the coat. It was over—they were going to find out he smoked a cigarette, and now he was going to jail. 

“I really doubt Ray would—” Henry started.

“Henry. I am your superior, and I’m asking you to check for me,” Sam said icily.

Henry nodded and slowly lumbered over in his crouched position to Ray, who kept his mouth closed as tight as the jail cell he imagined himself in. “I know I’m not your dentist, but open up!” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Ray knew there was no point in delaying the inevitable. Painstakingly, he raised his head out from the coat and exhaled a single, hasty breath before withdrawing back into the coat. Henry’s nose wrinkled as he pegged the distinctive smell of pot smoke.

He stood up, his towering form covering the moon. “Ray,” he said sternly, folding his arms. Jonah’s jaw dropped inadvertently, and Ray slunk down under the weight of the spotlight. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t want to do it!” Ray whimpered, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Paris forced me to!”

He begrudgingly looked around at all the disappointed eyes staring at him, including Jonah’s. It was clear he’d screwed up—and bad.

“Wait here,” Sam instructed the boys.

The counselors walked over to the shed to speak in private. Jonah tried to listen in, but could only make out occasional phrases from one of the women, including “They’re your kids!” and “I don’t care. Find out.” 

Henry and the other guy returned to them as the women walked off back towards the cabins. Ray peered up as Jared, a lanky yet lumbering dark-skinned man, started interrogating him.

“What were you two doing out here at this hour?” he asked Ray, his booming voice causing Jonah to subconsciously straighten his back.

“I just followed the other boys from our cabin here because they kept leaving at night!” Ray explained. “After I, um, fell in the lake, they ran away.”

“And where are they now?” the man asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I—I don’t know. Back at the cabin, maybe.”

The counselor scratched his chin, biting his bottom lip in thought. “And why are you here?” he asked, pointing at Jonah.

“I—I was just looking for everyone,” Jonah explained. “I woke up and nobody was in the cabin. I thought, ‘oh gosh, something bad must have happened.’ Then when I was looking around, I heard a splash, so I ran here and found Ray in the lake.”

The two counselors looked at each other.

“Okay, Jonah, Ray,” Henry said, “come with us to the office. We’ll get you dried off. It’s late; we can figure this all out in the morning.”

The boys nodded and followed the counselors down the path back to the main camp. Ray kept Henry’s warm coat tightly wrapped around himself. Jonah walked behind Ray, watching his bare legs that stuck out from the bottom of Henry’s coat, and wondering what the heck was going on with him. Ray was keeping something from him, but he figured he could ask when they weren’t in the presence of authority. Ray, feeling Jonah’s eyes on him, slowed his pace so he was walking beside him.

“Hey,” Ray said.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.” Jonah stared blankly ahead as if something were on his mind. Ray hoped Jonah didn’t want to ask him anything further. Either he told him the truth and damaged their friendship, or had to lie and damage their friendship. Unfortunately for him, the next question came. “Did Paris really force you to do drugs?”

Ray’s eyes cautiously glanced at the counselors walking in front of him. “Drugs?”

Jonah glared at him like he was stupid. “Yeah, you know, the…” He pretended to puff a joint.

“That was drugs?!” Ray said, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head. “I thought it was a cigarette!” It certainly explained why it made his head feel all weird, but it felt nothing like his notion of the concept of drugs.

Jonah just stared at him. He knew Ray was innocent, but that innocent? “You should stay away from those assholes. They’re only good for causing trouble.”

Ray nodded and thought back to the events at the lake with Paris and Griffin. It was all new and weird, but also… exciting. Exhilarating. Why did Paris have to ruin it all by throwing his clothes in the lake? And him jumping in after them… it was such a stupid idea. Why would he do such a thing? Maybe… it all started to click! Maybe the drugs kept him from thinking straight. And maybe the crazy feeling he got in his dick messed up his brain even more…

Before he knew it, they had all arrived at the counselors’ office. Henry and Jared went inside, telling the boys to wait outside by the door. Jonah leaned against the wooden wall, and Ray knelt beside him, covering his legs completely with the coat.

A soft breeze ruffled Jonah’s damp shirt, and he looked to the sky. The stars were beautiful, and the moon was in its—he squinted at it, and cleaned his glasses on his shirt—waxing gibbous phase. It finally registered how tired he was, and hoped they would be allowed to go back to bed soon. Was Ray as tired as he was? He looked over at him, but Ray had stuffed his head inside the coat.

“Ray?” Jonah said, looking down at him.

Ray sniffled and looked up, his eyes full of tears. “You shouldn’a come looking for us. Now you’re gonna get in trouble too.”

Jonah was shocked. “And if I hadn’t? It’s a good thing I did, you would have drowned!”

Ray’s eyes stung, and he buried them in the warmth of Henry’s soft coat. He would have drowned. The terror he had felt in the water began to resurface as he curled himself into a ball. He didn’t want to be at camp, he just wanted to go home. But home was no longer his cozy Abbotsford house; it was some place he’d never even been to. He was a castaway.

“Why are you crying?” Jonah asked.

“It’s nothing,” he replied, muffled through the coat. It was quiet for a moment before Henry opened the door, holding two bath towels.

“Hey, Jonah, you might want to leave your wet clothes with us. You can come grab them up in the morning. Bring your bags, we’ll be calling your parents to come pick you up.”

“What?!” Jonah shouted. Ray didn’t even bother looking up, keeping his head buried in the warm coat. “That’s not fair! We didn’t do anything! It was all Paris!”

“Not my call. There are policies here we have to follow. Now, here’s some towels,” he said, dumping them on Jonah.

“Why are we in trouble when we’re the victims?” Jonah continued.

Henry wasn’t about to argue with him. “Dry off and leave your clothes and my jacket here at the door. I need to go check something but I’ll be back in a minute to walk you to your cabin.” He went back inside, the door closing behind him.

“This is so bogus,” Jonah complained. “Right, Ray?”

Ray looked up with tear-filled eyes. “I’m sorry!” It was all his fault that Jonah was getting kicked out of camp. If only he wasn’t stupid enough to have tried to go find the older boys.

“Man, it’s not your fault! You’re the victim in all this. And just ‘cause you’re Canadian, you don’t have to be sorry about everything.” He handed Ray one of the towels and started undressing. “I’d give Paris a piece of my mind, at least if I legally could,” he said, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it on the doormat with a plop. As he slid his shorts off, Ray was surprised to find him wearing briefs underneath. He thought he was the only baby in the cabin to not have graduated to boxers or boxer-briefs.

“Maybe we can do a comic where we kick his ass,” Ray suggested.

Jonah smiled at him. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d love that.”


“Seriously?” Ray moaned. “And that wasn’t enough to get him kicked out?”

“Hey, quiet down,” Henry whispered, patting the air. “Everyone’s asleep.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Ray adjusted the towel around his waist as the three continued walking to their cabin. “So what happened to the boy whose clothes he threw out of the cabin?”

“Well, nobody got suspended, since only I saw what happened. The other counselors don’t seem to really give a damn about what I have to say, and I think regardless, they’re just tolerant of Paris because of his mom.”

“So just ‘cause his mom’s famous he gets better treatment?” Jonah deliberated. “That’s baloney.”

“That’s life,” Henry said.

“Well, you think he’ll get kicked out this time?” Jonah asked.

“Honestly, I hope so,” Henry sighed. “I’m on your side because this totally seems like something Paris would do, but the other counselors only saw you two out there. I don’t know what’ll happen.”

Jonah groaned. “This bites. Can’t you say anything to them, Henry?”

“I can. But it’s not my call in the end. Sam’s already pretty pissed at me for ‘not searching your bags well enough’,” he said, making air quotes, “and she’s the head counselor.”

“But Paris is the one who caused all of this!” Ray complained. “Why are we in trouble? The cigarette thing was his! This is so stupid.”

“I believe you,” Henry said as the group neared the cabin. “It’s a zero tolerance thing, very stupid in my opinion. We’ll see what happens in the morning. I’ll put in my word for y’all.”

“Thanks, Henry,” Jonah said, nodding in sincerity.

“Yeah, thanks,” Ray added.

Henry yawned. “Alright guys,” he said, stopping in front of the cabin. “No more jumping in lakes at midnight. I’ll see y’all in the morning.” He turned and began walking off.

“Goodnight!” they both called back in unison.

It was quiet outside the cabin, with only the crickets and the gentle breeze the only sounds staving off total silence. They stood by the entrance, hesitant to face the troublemakers within.

Jonah turned to Ray. “You ready for this?”

Ray shook his head. “Nope.”

They walked up the short flight of wooden stairs and opened the creaky door. They stepped into the dark room, and in an instant, Griffin was upon them. 

“What happened?!” he asked, running over, then furrowed his brow. “Where did you get towels?”

“Fuck,” Paris said, sitting up in his bed. “Did they find you? Did you run into anyone?”

“First of all, stay away from us,” Jonah said, pushing Griffin away. “You assholes are horrible, mean, disgusting drug addicts!”

“Hey, fuck you!” Paris said, hopping down from his bed and shoving a finger into Jonah’s chest.

Jonah shoved his hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

“Why’d you throw my clothes into the lake, dick?” he said to Paris, adjusting his towel. Paris scoffed in response.

“Ray almost drowned, asshole,” Jonah said, “and so did I, trying to help him.”

Suuure,” Paris said, rolling his eyes. “Drama queen.”

“Did the counselors see you?” Griffin asked, peering out of the window.

“Yeah, they did, and they found your illegaldrugs as well,” Jonah replied.

“Fuck!” Paris shouted, sudden alarm crossing his expression. “Wait, so, what did you tell them?”

“We told them the truth; that you smoked drugs and threw Ray into the lake. And now you’re getting kicked out, first thing in the morning,” he said smugly.

Paris glared at Jonah, trying to read his expression. “Bullshit,” he said. Jonah glared back, hands on his hips. “You didn’t,” he alleged with far less certainty.

“Are you serious?” Griffin asked.

“One-hundred percent,” Jonah said. He was enjoying the power his words had over them.

Paris spun around, grabbed Ray by the shoulders, and shook him. “You idiot, just had to follow us, huh?” he spat, then pushed Ray.

“Get away from him!” Jonah yelled, grabbing Paris by the shoulder.

Paris turned and ripped away Jonah’s towel, rendering him fully naked. Jonah covered his crotch with one hand and snatched back the dangling towel.

“Asshole!” Jonah yelled, replacing the towel around his waist.

“Baby dick,” Paris replied sourly. “Shit. What do we do?” he asked Griffin.

“Well… they can’t prove it was ours,” Griffin suggested, but even he didn’t sound convinced by his statement.

Paris sulked over to his bed, collapsing face-first onto it. “I can’t believe this,” he moaned into his pillow. “One week! One week a year, and it’s already over!”

Griffin walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. “S’alright, Paris,” he said, patting him on the back.

“No! It’s fuckin’ not! We only get one week together a year, and it’s already over in just two days!”

Griffin raised a hand to the back of his neck. “Maybe my parents will let you come ‘round again,” he proposed.

Paris sobbed into his pillow. “My mom’s gonna ground me for a year if they tell her they caught us,” he mumbled. “She might not let me ever see you again!”

“What about your dad? He likes me loads!”

“Bet his dad doesn’t like assholes who push people into lakes,” Jonah said bitterly.

“I never pushed him, dumbass!” Paris retorted, sitting up. “He jumped in himself!”

“Liar!” Jonah accused. Ray stared guiltily at the floor, and Jonah turned to him. “What? Okay, what the heck happened before I showed up? Someone tell me now!”

All eyes fell on Ray. “Nothing!” he quickly answered. He couldn’t bear to lose Jonah as a friend if he were to find out they did weird stuff at the lake. “I mean, I fell in. Accidentally.” Jonah narrowed his eyes at him. “And then they ran away, ‘cause it was loud,” he said, looking at the ground.

Silence settled over the cabin as Paris and Griffin glanced at each other. It was clear nobody was going to actually fill Jonah in on the details.

“This sucks, I’m going to bed,” Paris said, sliding into his sleeping bag.

Griffin looked down at the ground. “Well, um, Paris, could I sleep with you then tonight? You know, since it might be our last night together...”

Paris grunted. “Duh,” he said, and held open the flap.

As Griffin climbed into Paris’s sleeping bag, Ray peered at Jonah, who wore an incredibly confused expression.

“I’m tired, too,” Ray announced, making a show of yawning and lifting his arms over his head as he walked over to their bunk. He dug through his bag and found a fresh pair of white briefs that he slipped on under his towel, as well as a black t-shirt.

Jonah grabbed his own change of clothes and climbed up into his bed. Ray slipped into his sleeping bag and reached over the side to grab his sketchbook. He flipped to the comic he and Jonah had made, staring longingly at it as he realized it might be the first and last comic they might ever make together. Jonah was wrong about things always turning out alright—just when everything was getting good, it all went to hell.

Jonah peered down from the top bunk and caught Ray staring at their comic. 

“That was crazy tonight,” Jonah said.

“Yeah,” Ray said, closing the sketchbook. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “I mean, I was pretty scared. It’s a good thing one of us knew how to swim.”

“I’m okay. I kinda wanna just sleep it off.”

“I know what ya mean,” he said, yawning. “I was having a nice dream ‘til I woke up and got caught up in all of this. I just hope everything turns out alright in the morning.”

“I know you do,” Ray smiled, dropping the sketchbook into his bag. “G’night.”

“Night, Ray,” he replied, returning to his bed.

Ray stared up at the underside of the top bunk. The stillness was relieving, like a storm that had finally cleared. As his bare legs brushed against the nylon sleeping bag, he remembered the feeling of his soft pajamas. Crud. He wished he’d managed to retrieve them from the lake, picturing them floating out there in the darkness. A few moments later, Ray heard whispering coming from Jonah’s bed.

“Are you saying something to me?” Ray whispered to him.

“Oh! Sorry, Ray, I’m not!” his voice replied. “I’m just praying. We were saved after all, right?”

“Right. Sure.”

Ray rolled to his side and closed his eyes. Images and sensations from the night sprung back to life in his mind. The horned owl, the smoke he smelled on Griffin’s hand which was later blown into his mouth by Paris. What was up with that crazy feeling in his dick, anyways? Was it from the drugs? It felt really nice… how could he get it again? He reached down into his underwear and pinched the skin at the end of his dick, rubbing it between his thumb and index finger, but the damn thing remained totally soft. He supposed he could maybe ask Griffin in the morning.

Griffin was way nicer to him than Paris, even though he was the one who captured and confined him. Griffin. What was that weird symbol he and Paris had above their dicks? It was like a broken circle with a dot in the middle. He rubbed the silky skin above the base of his penis, wondering if he was supposed to have hair and a symbol like them. Maybe he was some kind of freak. That wouldn’t come as a surprise.

Turning on his side, he felt the sharp coldness of the lake as he plunged into it. The horrifying sense of the complete blackness that lay under him. He was so close to succumbing to it. What a blessing that Jonah had shown up when he did. He also realized it was his first time being in a body of water since… well, he didn’t want to think about that.