Chapter 23: Day 17, Dispassion
“We didn’t f**k,” I admit to Barbara while visiting her fabulous condominium along the Gulf. The view from her terrace is spectacular: cloudless with a baby blue sky, sloped beach with very few beach people, aqua-colored water spans the distance and beyond, and a robust sun blazes overhead. We drink Long Island iced teas under a rainbow-colored canopy that resembles a Pride flag, and talk about my short visit to Trent’s, inside his darkroom.
“I’m so glad you didn’t sleep with him,” she confesses, looking alarmed by my fresh news that I visited Trent’s apartment. “I would be heartbroken to learn that you had s*x with him, since he is so lowbrow.”
“Why do you think that?” I inquire, share a solemn tone, and grow uncomfortable by her dislike for the lifeguard
