Socrates once famously said, "True knowledge exists in knowing that you know nothing."

But Drake said it best: "I know them type of hugs."

The floppy sunhat and oversized sunglasses Lexie wore did a fine job hiding her expression. Yet, her accessories did nothing to obscure the fact that they knew each other. Vic disengaged from her. I shook my head wryly as a blend of her perfume and their cologne hit my nostrils. Whatever flowers and forbidden forests these two had going on was something else.

What was that funny little hiccup of my ego? So, they knew each other. Big deal. "Alright! Let's get this party started. You good, Vic?" I clapped my friend's shoulders and gave a squeeze.

"Yeah." Vic was cool. "I'm good, but aren't we short a bed... or two?"

"You know what? I passed by the information desk on the walk up." Lexie wove around us for the door. I couldn't help but notice how stunning she looked in a melon sundress that showed off bare arms and back. "I'll see if they can transfer us to a family suite to allow the three to, uh. . ."

"Be in different beds, at least?" Vic gave a tight smile.

Lexie grimaced. "Be comfortable."

Ever the diplomat. I liked that about her, but I doubted she would have much luck. Aside from the cost of scaling up our boarding passes, the cruise line appeared to be doing everything in its power to mitigate the spread of germs. We had been given a thick rulebook by the crew with suggestions like, "Please refrain from visiting with guests outside of your travel party."

Very unlikely anyone would roll out the sanitized red carpet for us to take our breath particles from one space to another after the hassle of getting us here.

As Lexie strutted from the room, my eyes followed the arabesque lines of her legs down to her strappy high-heel sandals. Glancing at Vic, we were both staring. "I'm gonna go, uh. . ." Vic hiked a thumb behind them and fumbled for an escape route.

Once I had the room to myself, I plopped down at the foot of the king-sized bed and had a good laugh at both their abrupt exits. "Damn. How do I get myself into shit like this? Could've been avoided with communication, Devon. Communication," I mused aloud.

Vic was part of my inner circle, but we never talked personal lives. We shot ball together. We both shared an interest in philosophy. We talked Confucius and Camus, not Lexie Cambridge. In fact, she hadn't been a major part of my life until three weeks ago when she had hinted at wanting to be more than friends.

Of course, I knew the game. Lexie was from a Southern Black upper middle-class background. She probably had relatives crawling from the woodworks, encouraging her to "settle down" now that she had a degree. It was no secret my family made significantly less money than hers, which might ordinarily knock me out of the running, but Mr. Cambridge seemed to think my master's degree leveled the playing field.

As gracious as I wanted to be, I couldn't picture Craig and Melinda welcoming Vic Diwata with open arms any more than I could picture my parents, Neville and Donna. It was clear why Lexie hadn't made her trips over the rainbow public. I still wished I had known.

My phone buzzed. I tugged it from my pocket, glancing at the caller ID. "Hey, Dad! You got my message?" I answered with a grin.

"Your mom told me you. . . wanted to talk to me," Dad wheezed. The hiss of his oxygen machine accompanied his labored speech.

"Just to let you know that while I'm out of town, you can still reach me. I paid for the ship's data plan, so my cellphone will work the entire two weeks I'm away. I, uh. . . I heard you're starting a new round of experimental oncological treatment. How are you feeling?"

"Looking at the yard. . . you didn't do."

I chuckled mirthlessly. "I talked to Keith. Cuz is gonna bring a few friends over to take care of it this weekend."

"Should've. . . should've done it. . . before you left, Son. Men, men take care of. . ."

"Hey, don't overexert yourself, Dad. I understand. I'll take care of it before I go next time." I blew out a breath, rubbing the crown of my head to soothe the mixed emotions that conversations with my father always elicited. "Anyway, I want to stay updated on your health. Call or text me anytime."

"How's. . . your girlfriend?"

"Nosy, innit?" Smiling, I fell backwards onto the mattress. "Lexie isn't my girlfriend, Dad. I have too much going on in life for a serious relationship right now. That's why I invited my friend Vic. To keep things platonic."

"Why not? Should be. . . locking down. . . Lexie. She's in your top. . . ten. She has. . . personality."

"Well, unfortunately, she also has history with Vic."

"Meaning. . .? In the past." His chuckle was raspy.

I scratched my jawline and chose my next words carefully. "I don't know their current level of involvement, but they seem close. At any rate, it saves me from having to break a heart later." And it sucked. Of all the women in my inbox and DMs, Lexie had stood out. Clearly, I hadn't come on this trip just to take advantage of a free vacation. I liked her a lot, but it was complicated.

I could see Vic's appeal or whatever. Nonbinary and comfortable in their sexuality, they dressed in loose, comfy clothes without hard gender lines. Soft boi sensibilities. People were often confused by the lithe slenderness that hinted at femininity and the smoky voice and somewhat forward mannerisms that some considered masculine. To me, Vic was simply Vic, a good friend for years.

Dad gave a quiet cough before continuing. "You plan. . . to let your girl. . . get swept off h-her feet by some other man?"

"Vic is nonbinary, Dad, and remember what we discussed about genderphobia," I murmured.

"Ah, that crap," he spat.

"Alright, Dad. We'll talk later. Take care." I tried to rush off the call before he said or did anything else offensive. A voice over the loudspeaker announced the ship would be leaving port soon. The floor swayed beneath my feet. Maybe that was why this conversation had me queasy. I reached in my pocket and found and chewed a Dramamine.

"Bye. Damn new generation. . . Disappointing," Neville fired a parting shot.

"Now hang on. Dad, I—" I paused to glare at the shimmering waves in the distance. A discreet button on the backrest of the loveseat beside the balcony door caught my attention, and my scowl deepened. "Whatever. I'm sorry you feel that way. I'm sorry you're not impressed, considering. . ."

Crouching to investigate the button, I unloaded on him, "I played football like you. I got a sports scholarship to your alma mater. I pledged to your fraternity. I worked part-time, went to school full-time, and played wide receiver, despite your insistence I couldn't handle the workload."

"Still and all, we've reached the point where," I grunted as the loveseat became a pull-out bed, "suddenly, I'm responsible for taking care of the family and finances. So, I gave up going pro to stay in school and pursue a career in sports medicine for you. You needed me home. Any one of those things could keep you from thinking I'm a disappointment."

The disrespectful click of the line going dead made me jerk the phone from my ear and hurl it at the wall. It thudded to the floor, safely ensconced in its protective case as I shoved my hands over my head and took deep breaths, blinking the sting from my eyes.

I pulled my hands down my face and sat heavily on the loveseat. As an only child, Neville Bentley's great expectations had always fallen like bricks on my shoulders. Doctors giving him five years to live just meant a deadline on getting him to see me as even a fraction of the man that I already was.

A harsh laugh expelled from my lips. Fuck it. I refused to descend into melancholia. Somebody had to figure out the sleeping arrangements. The bed was suitable for Lexie. Vic could take the loveseat fold-out. I would make a pallet on the floor. I sniffed roughly and pushed to my feet. The rocking ship would let me sleep like a baby, no doubt.

Turning, I watched Lexie barge into the stateroom and whip off her designer glasses. Her doe-like eyes were made for movies. "There are no other rooms, Dev!" She made the dramatic announcement.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! It's okay," I assured her. The wrinkle of concern between her eyebrows unstitched when she stepped into my arms. I removed her floppy hat, tossing it on the bed before the brim took out an eyeball. Her giggles tickled my ear, and I shared the laugh. "Three's Company must be popular as hell, but don't worry about it. There's a fold-out and spare blankets in here. We'll make do."

"Be honest, alright? Will this get problematic?" Uplifting her eyes behind a fringe of eyelashes, calling her alluring wasn't the word for it. Her gaze was devastating, mesmerizing.

I didn't ask about her past with Vic. I didn't interrogate my emotions concerning whatever that past might be. I made the choice then and there not to let it be an issue. "You know what, this is on me. I apologize for inviting someone else along. I thought I was being supportive, however I should have checked with you first," I said.

"No, yeah." Lexie shrugged and grinned. "Having someone else along was the original plan, but maybe you and I can sneak to the club tonight and get some alone time?"

"Alone time?" I hedged. Was there any way to hang out together without misleading her?