Chapter Five Your Penis Uses She/Her Pronouns?
Chapter Five
Your Penis Uses She/Her Pronouns?
“Ho . . . lee . . . shit . . .” Kevin drags out the syllables, saying what they’re all thinking as they take in the pure extravagance
of their rooms.
The Garden Suite—as it’s referred to on the cruise’s app that they’ve all been forced to download—is a three-bedroom, three-bath
complete with a kitchenette, living room, and access to a private enclosed balcony.
“Holy shit indeed . . .” Owen says a little more quietly, dropping his shoulder bag on the plush sectional that sits in front
of a flat-screen television affixed to the wall. “How much did you say this was again, Abby?”
Guilt stirs in Owen’s stomach. He’s never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but when the horse looks like it could
easily cost half a year’s worth of rent in his and Jacob’s old apartment, he can’t help but think about the money.
“Trust me, guys, the bonus was a big one,” Abby says as she leaps over the back of the couch, sinking into the cushions.
“Don’t worry about it,” Kaitlyn promises, sidling up to Owen like she knows he’s overthinking things. “Please.”
He gives her a reassuring look, hoping that it’s enough for her.
After suffering through a mandatory safety video, the group was given a guided tour where they were shown the quickest routes
to the lifeboats. Of course their guide had accompanied the information with an “In the unlikely event of—” along with a too-chipper
smile as he explained the low odds of the ship capsizing or hitting any icebergs.
Low. But not impossible.
Then they’d been led through the entrance into the main atrium, a three-story area of the ship that’s half-indoor, half-outdoor.
They were shown a handful of the amenities closest to the suites, the pools, the gym, bars, shops, a pharmacy, and finally
a private foyer where the higher-paying guests are provided with their own lounge area, complete with a conversation pit,
bar, and sun deck.
And from there, they were finally given access to their suite.
Owen spins when he hears the whistle Jacob lets out, hands on his hips as he stares through enormous windows that look out
onto the sea-green waters of the Bay.
“Check out that view,” Jacob adds as he opens the sliding glass door to the balcony. A gust of wind blows in, carrying the
smell of the salt water with it as it sweeps Owen’s hair away from his face.
It’s stunning, the water stretching toward the Bay Bridge. Their guide left them at their door after giving everyone their
all-in-one medallion bracelets that serve as their room keys as well as their method of paying for the non-inclusive food
and drinks while on this trip.
“Pretty suite . . . huh?” Jacob beams at Owen, too proud of the stupid pun.
Owen has to bite back his exasperated laughter, turning away instead.
“Have we called rooms yet?” Kevin asks, leaning over the back of the couch. “I want the master!” In one fluid move, he’s racing down the hallway toward the rooms.
“Over my dead body!” Abigail shouts, racing to catch her brother. “You’re not the one who paid for it!” She slides across
the hardwood floors, the two of them tumbling into each other as they fall onto the king-sized bed.
Owen peeks inside the master, taking in the open concept that includes a huge free-standing bathtub that looks out over what
he can imagine will be a gorgeous view once they’re moving. Leaving the two siblings to fight things out, he makes his way
down the hallway, checking out the other two available rooms. The second one doesn’t look that much different, just with fewer
bells and whistles; the queen-sized bed looks comfortable.
The third room is somewhere in between size-wise. The bathroom looks to be a bit bigger than the one in the room in the middle,
with a television playing various advertisements for things to do on the ship. The only true difference is the layout of the
furniture. There’s a standing closet, a dresser situated in front of a large mirror, and an armchair tucked in the corner
that doesn’t look all that comfortable. And the bed is situated against the same wall as the door, giving the person sleeping
there the perfect view to wake up to. Right from the comfort of their own bed.
Bed.
Singular.
Owen spies his black suitcase—decorated with various stickers—at the foot right next to Jacob’s.
Well . . . he thinks, arms crossed as he leans against the doorframe. Fuck.
“How’s it looking in here?” Jacob’s voice stirs something in Owen’s chest, and he lets Jacob step past him, hoping that he’ll realize what’s wrong on his own.
“Oh, well.” He looks at the bed, then Owen. “Are we sharing? News to me.”
He lets his backpack slip gently off his shoulders. Like a pole vaulter, Jacob turns horizontal in the air as he jumps onto
the bed, the mattress bouncing him up and down.
“Have you picked a side yet?” The question comes out so plainly that Owen can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
Owen shakes his head, stepping out into the hallway where he finds Kaitlyn in the master, having won the fight against Kevin
for the space. “We’ve got a problem,” he tells her quietly, not wanting to cause tension this early in the vacation.
“Problem?” Abigail pokes her head out of the more private section of their bathroom, where the toilet and shower are hidden
behind a frosted glass wall.
“It’s nothing,” Owen tells her. “Just, uh . . .” He motions for Kaitlyn to follow him into the hallway where this can be a
more private discussion.
“What’s up?” she asks.
“There’s only one bed,” Owen says, a little quiet. “In the rooms.”
“Yeah. That’s yours, and Jacob and Kevin have two queens in their room.” Then she snorts. “Well, one queen and a straight.”
She keeps on laughing, but Owen remains inscrutable.
“No, in every room,” Owen continues. “Every room only has one bed.” Owen takes her by the hand, leading her to the third bedroom where
Jacob is still stretched out on top of the comforter, his legs crossed at the ankles as he scrolls through videos on his phone.
“Oh.”
Jacob barely gives them a glance before Owen is shutting the door and pulling them both back into the hallway.
“‘Oh’ is right!” he says to her. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, Kaitlyn. I appreciate this trip, but I have to draw the
line somewhere.”
“I swear the description said there’d be at least one room with two queen beds. I even called ahead—” Then she stops short
of finishing her thought. “Or . . . wait . . . did I call? Or did I just say I’d call?”
“Kait—” Owen grumbles, but before he can get much else out, the door slides open again, and Jacob pokes his head out.
“I’m guessing we got mixed up somewhere?” Jacob asks, tilting his head to the side like a puppy.
“That’s an understatement,” Owen answers without looking at him.
That’s when Kevin decides to join in on the conversation, because Owen wasn’t already feeling enough like an asshole. “What’s
going on?”
“We thought there’d be two beds,” Kaitlyn explains quickly.
“Oh, well, O-dog and I can share!” Kevin beams from ear to ear, disregarding Owen’s boundaries to lock his arm around Owen’s
neck, digging his knuckles into his hair. “What’s a lil’ no-homo cuddling between bros?”
“Please stop!” Owen grunts, pulling himself away and flattening out his hair.
Kevin cocks an eyebrow. “Afraid of a little straight-guy spooning? I don’t bite, I promise! But listen, I can’t be responsible
for what happens . . . down there, if you catch my meaning. Sometimes she has a mind of her own in the morning.”
Everyone pauses, blinking at Kevin.
“Your penis uses she/her pronouns?” Owen finally asks.
“Oh, I’m sorry! I thought everyone here was aware that gender is a spectrum!” Kevin holds his hands up defensively. “You know, you guys really surprise me sometimes.”
“I—” Owen starts to say before he remembers they’re getting off topic. “I can share with Kevin,” he finally manages.
“Are you sure?” Jacob asks him. Owen shifts uncomfortably, hating how he seems to be the sole focus of Jacob’s attention.
Pretending like he actually cares. “I don’t mind switching.”
Before Owen can answer, Kevin is hollering, using Owen’s shoulders to jump up and down, then he races back into the room.
Their room. “Score! Sleepover with Owen!”
“Okay, well . . .” Jacob says. “Problem solved, I guess.”
“You’re okay with sharing?” Kaitlyn asks Owen.
“Yeah,” he promises her. “Kevin and I have shared a bed before.”
“Only because he got so drunk he thought your room was his.”
Owen hadn’t even noticed until the following morning that there’d been a third person in bed with him and Jacob.
“Sorry for making such a big deal,” Owen apologizes, already feeling that pressure at the base of his skull, the one that
tells him he needs to exit whatever situation he’s in immediately, lest he become absolutely intolerable to be around.
“No, it’s okay. I should’ve double-checked . . . or checked the first time, I guess.”
He’s already feeling uneasy, the invisible clock in his brain counting down the seconds he has until it’s absolutely too late
to pull out of this vacation. Sure, when they reach Sitka he could just find his own way home, maybe book a flight. But—for
the next few days at least—Owen’s stuck on this boat.
“Go.” Owen nods toward the master suite. “Go get unpacked. Go relax. We’re going to have a fun time.” He doesn’t even believe the words himself.
“Okay.” She smiles. “Get dressed, I want to head to that sail-away party our tour guide was talking about.”
“Mm-hmm . . .” Owen hums, watching as Kaitlyn disappears back into her room. He lingers there, in the hallway, just for a
moment by himself. He knew this was a bad idea, and now his friends probably think he’s being too demanding.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, Owen berates himself. Just be normal!
As if it’s not a perfectly reasonable request to not have to share a bedroom with his ex-boyfriend. Steeling himself, he steps
back into Jacob’s room so that he can grab his suitcase.
“Do you want any help?” Jacob asks, his bag already half unpacked.
“Nope.”