Free Love, Hypothetically[Theta Alpha Gamma 02 ] by Anne Tenino

on top.”
Paul bent to do it, wondering if Trevor had remembered his reluctance to eat red meat or if he’d just gotten lucky. He had a feeling he knew the answer to that. He found them right on top, like the man had said.
“Crap, I should have asked to make sure you eat meat at all anymore,” Trevor said suddenly.
Paul handed him the chicken, smiling for some stupid reason. “I do, it’s all right.” This time he did step back, sitting and watching Trevor cook. Occasionally, Trevor would look over his shoulder for Paul, smiling when he found him. Did he think Paul would try to escape overboard and swim to shore?
“I heard a rumor about you,” Paul said suddenly.
Trevor stiffened, his back straightening. “Did you?”
What did he have to worry about? Paul wished he could see his face. “You’re a do-gooder,” he said. “Speaking to kids about bullying. And being gay.”
Trevor froze, tongs straight up in the air. He shook his head once, then attended to the barbecue again.
“You didn’t want me to know about that?” he asked when Trevor remained silent.
Finally Trevor looked over his shoulder. “I just don’t want you to think I’m doing it only because of what happened. I would have told you about it eventually.”
Paul swallowed. “Do you do it to prove to me I can trust you?”
Trevor scrunched his eyebrows. “How would that prove anything? And you might not like what I tell them.” He turned back to the chicken, flipping it, then turned fully to face Paul, leaning against the rail, gripping the top one as if he needed something to hang on to.
“What do you tell them?”
“I tell them sometimes high school isn’t the time to come out, if you aren’t in a secure situation with people you can trust.”
He shook his head slowly. “I think that’s wise, Trev. It’s not always the best time.”
Trevor looked at the deck, kicking with the toe of his shoe. “Then I tell them that sometimes you can’t control what happens. Sometimes you think you’re in a secure situation but it turns out you aren’t. People betray you.”
Paul took a deep breath. “Thank you for being honest about it.”
“It’s the least of what I owe you,” he said, turning back to mess with the chicken some more. He covered the grill and pulled a blanket that looked suspiciously picnic-like out of the stowage. When he turned to Paul, he unfolded it on the floor of the cockpit, then dropped a flotation cushion in front of the cabin opening and one at the stern. Fumbling a little, Trevor reached back into the stowage and pulled out a green cone of paper-wrapped something and a vase.
Flowers. As Trevor unwound the green paper, daisies were revealed. He leaned over the side of the hull, far enough that Paul saw a flash of skin between his shorts and his shirt, and filled the vase, then arranged the flowers in it. He set them in the middle of the blanket and cleared his throat. “Sit,” he invited Paul, not quite looking at him.
Paul stared. Slowly, he moved from the bench to the cushion, folding his legs. “Trev?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you buy flowers, drive up here and put them on the boat, then drive back to get me this morning?”
Trevor rubbed his knee and cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“Oh my God, that’s so sweet.”
Trevor finally met his gaze and smiled. “Wait,” he said happily. “I have one more surprise.” He reached into the cooler and pulled out a half-bottle of champagne.
Paul felt almost cruel when he said, “I don’t really drink.”
Trevor’s face fell, but he forced a smile the next moment and started to put it back.
“I could have one glass, I guess.”
Trevor smiled brightly again, set it down, and scrambled through the stowage for plastic cups.

Chapter 7
I
     
    t was arguably the best lunch of Paul’s life.
    Somehow, after eating chicken, bread, and salad and drinking a glass of champagne, he found himself lying half on his side, propping his weight on his elbow, mirroring Trevor’s