In the compact, crowded parking lot behind the three freshman housing buildings at the University of Central Florida, Tucker Peterson stood against the side of his mother’s off-white Ford Explorer, sweating in the humid August heat. In every parking spot, and even some grassy areas that weren’t parking spots at all, sat vehicles stuffed with moving boxes for their own freshman family member. He watched as girls his age ran across the lot to hug their friends, as their parents trudged behind them with multiple moving boxes in their arms. He could see the desperation on their faces as they tried to get their children moved in quickly before the inevitable afternoon thunderstorms began, and fluffy gray clouds rumbled gently overhead in confirmation of what was coming.

Tucker’s mother slammed the trunk of her Explorer shut, startling Tucker back to reality, and shoved a box marked ‘TUCKER BATHROOM’ into his arms. She wore a black UCF hat that covered her short dark hair, an old gray t-shirt, jean shorts, and running shoes. Her mascara was smudged, giving away the fact that she had been crying.

“Okay,” she said, “I think this is the last box.”

Before Tucker could respond, she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into an awkward hug, separated by the box in his arms. Tucker could feel his mother’s shoulders gently shaking as she silently cried, kissing the side of his head.

“Mom, stop!” Tucker protested. “I’ve been sweating since we got here.”

“You lived inside of me for nine months,” his mother said, still not letting him go. “I don’t care about a bit of sweat.”

“Well, I do!” he laughed, pulling away from her embrace.

Tucker and his mother had always had a close relationship while he was growing up—the two differed in personalities, as his mother was a loud and stubborn woman from Pennsylvania and he was more quiet and introspective, but they’d always gotten along great and complemented each other’s traits. “Like opposite ends of a really fun and cool magnet,” as his mother would often remark, causing Tucker to groan and roll his eyes at her. He secretly enjoyed how out-of-touch his mother was with what verbiage was “cool” or “trendy”, making her sound like a mom on a family-friendly ‘80s television sitcom.

The two walked towards Tucker’s new building, which had the words ‘LIBRA’ painted on the top of it. The other buildings had ‘GEMINI’ and ‘CANCER’ painted on their own respective walls, and Tucker couldn’t help but feel thankful he wasn’t living in a building with ‘CANCER’ on it, like it was a bad omen.

His room was on the third floor, and his mother opened the door to the stairwell once they were in the lobby before he could even try for the elevator.

“Mom, it’s so hot!” Tucker complained. Hot weather anywhere in the world was unpleasant, but there was something about Florida’s damp, oppressive heat that seemed to suck all the energy out of you the moment you stepped outside.

“Sweating is good for you,” she countered. “It lets you know that your body’s working and you’re exerting energy.”

“I’m well aware,” he replied sourly, readjusting his hold on the box as he entered the stairwell.

As soon as they got to the third floor, the nearby elevator doors opened and what seemed like forty people poured out. He wouldn’t admit it, but knew his mom was wise to take the stairs.

Each floor had a common area with bright white cinderblock walls, beige and gray checkered carpeting, and some cheap-looking furniture haphazardly placed in the center of the room. Other residents were already making themselves comfortable, moving the furniture around so people could sit with their friends, laughing and yelling, oblivious to the sweaty, red-faced families trying to move around them to get to their destinations. Tucker’s room was in the very back, a straight shot from the doors to the common area.

“I can’t believe this place is so messy already,” Tucker’s mom muttered to him as they approached his door. The two chuckled as he placed his student ID up to the scan lock above the door’s handle and swung it open after a confirming beep.

Inside were two elevated beds, tucked into the corners of either side of the room. Like the common area, its walls were bright white, and the carpet was the same beige-gray checkered combo. Boxes from their previous trips to his room were stacked under his bed, and Tucker dropped his next to the others.

“Well,” Tucker sighed, turning to look at his mother, “I guess this is it.”

As if on cue, tears began rolling down her face. Tucker pulled his mother into an embrace, each of them hugging each other tightly. Though Tucker was excited for this new chapter in his life, he felt a heaviness in his chest as he realized his mother would be heading home alone.

“I’m sorry,” his mother sniffled, “I said I was done crying.”

“It’s okay,” Tucker said, pulling apart and wiping tears that had pooled in his eyes. “This isn’t goodbye, just see you later. Remember, I’m only two hours away from you guys.”

“I know,” his mom said, wiping her own eyes. “I’ve just never had to do this before. You’re my baby!” Without warning, she pulled Tucker into another hug, holding on tight.

“And you know your father wanted to be here too, to say goodbye,” she said, her voice muffled in Tucker’s hair. “He wanted to get the day off so badly.”

“I know,” Tucker said into her shoulder. “It’s not his fault his boss is an ass.”

“Hey, hey,” she said, standing back and holding Tucker by the shoulders. “You may be a college kid now, but you don’t need to start cussing all the time.”

Tucker laughed and hugged his mother once more, quickly letting go before she could hold on to him for any longer.

“Okay, now get back on the road before it starts to rain,” Tucker said. “I’ll see you and Dad in a couple of weeks for Parents’ Weekend, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” his mother said, smiling sadly. “Alright, I’m going. You be good, you hear? It should be good, but let us know if your car gives you any trouble and we’ll give you some money to get it looked at. And don’t forget to look for a job.”

Before Tucker could respond, his mother grabbed the nearest box and opened it, pulling out its contents and placing them on the bare blue plastic mattress.

“I should help you unpack before I go,” she muttered.

“Mom, go!” Tucker laughed. He snatched the box from her hands and placed it back on the floor.

“Okay, I’m going!” she said, throwing her hands up in mock defeat.

“I love you, Mom,” Tucker said, his mouth quivering as he forced himself to smile.

“I love you too, Tucker,” she said, her voice breaking as tears appeared in her eyes again. She quickly wiped her face, took a deep breath, and walked toward the door, looking back at him once more before exiting. Tucker could hear her loudly excusing herself as she made her way through the common room and couldn’t help but laugh at the image of her shoving oblivious kids out of the way.

He began unpacking his boxes, placing his clothes in the dresser next to his bed, and had only gotten through a few of them before there was a knock at the door. Tucker, expecting his mother making a dramatic re-entrance to say goodbye again, threw open the door and was met instead with a floating stack of large brown boxes.

“Hey,” came a deep voice from behind the stack. “Thanks for getting the door.”

Tucker stepped aside, and the boxes moved into the room, carried by a guy slightly taller than him. He dropped the boxes next to the other bed in the room with a loud thud and turned to look at Tucker. He was tall and skinny, with sun-kissed tan skin and a mop of shaggy hair the color of sand on his head.

“You must be Tucker,” the guy said, walking toward him and extending his hand. “I looked you up online when we got our room assignments last month. I’m Mike. Nice to meet you!”

“Yeah, you too,” Tucker said, wiping his sweaty palms on his shorts and shaking Mike’s hand.

“Wow,” Mike said, looking around the room, “this place is depressing. It looks like we’re in a jail or something.”

“I was just thinking the same thing!” Tucker said. “Like, they couldn’t put up some wallpaper or get some better carpeting or something?”

“Exactly,” Mike laughed. “Did you just get here too?”

“Yeah,” Tucker said. “My mom just left a few minutes ago.”

“It’s nice that she helped you move,” Mike said. “My parents both had to work, so I’m doing this all by myself.”

“Oh, do you want some help?” Tucker asked, putting the toiletries he had in his hand down.

“No, it’s cool,” Mike said. “I’ve only got a few more boxes in my car. Thanks, though.”

Tucker nodded once in response, and focused his attention back to his moving boxes, trying hard not to turn and look when he saw Mike take his shirt off to wipe his sweaty face out of the corner of his eye. Mike looked deceptively skinny, but had abs and a fairly defined chest hidden under his clothes that made Tucker’s mind wander to what the rest of his body might look like.

Mike pulled a fresh shirt out of one of his boxes and left the room without a word as he was pulling it over his head. Once the door closed behind him, Tucker let out a breath that he didn’t realize he’d been holding and nervously ran a hand through his hair.

“Pull yourself together,” Tucker muttered to himself. “He’s just a guy — there’s going to be a lot of them here.”

By the time Mike banged on the door again with another armful of boxes, Tucker had already unpacked most of his clothes and was working on putting sheets on his new twin bed. He let go of the fitted sheet he was attempting to wrap around his mattress, letting it snap back into a pile, and quickly opened the door for his new roommate.

“Thanks again,” Mike said breathlessly as he entered, throwing the boxes down near the previous stack he’d brought in. “Why the hell did I think it was a good idea to change my shirt before I was done moving? It’s so hot outside!” He pulled the neck of his shirt up, exposing his lower abdomen as he wiped the sweat from his face. Tucker looked up at the ceiling, trying to keep his hormones under control.

“I know, it’s like walking through hot soup,” Tucker joked, looking back at Mike after a moment. “Are you from out-of-state?”

“No,” Mike said, “which makes me feel even more dumb! I’ve lived here my entire life, so you’d think I’d know how awful August in Florida is. Are you from Florida too?”

“Yeah, I grew up a couple hours away from Orlando,” Tucker said.

“Where at?” Mike asked, grabbing a plastic cup from one of his boxes. He walked over to the sink near their front door and flipped on the tap, filling his cup with water and taking large gulps.

“It’s a small town. You probably haven’t heard of it,” Tucker said. “It’s called Weeki Wachee.”

“Oh, yeah!” Mike said, putting his cup down next to the sink. “I’ve heard of that place! With the mermaids, right?”

“That’s us,” Tucker said. He reached into a box next to his feet and pulled out a poster, showing Mike. It was a picture of smiling women in multi-colored mermaid tails and matching seashell bikini tops underwater with the words ‘VISIT THE MERMAIDS OF WEEKI WACHEE SPRINGS’ across the top.

“Wait,” Mike said, coming over and analyzing the poster, “this is what the mermaids looked like? I didn’t know what I was expecting, but they’re hot!”

“I guess,” Tucker said, shrugging.

“You don’t think so?” Mike asked.

“Not really,” Tucker admitted, turning slightly to tape the poster on the wall near his bed. “They’re all pretty, but I don’t look at women like that. I’m gay, so it doesn’t do much for me.”

“Wait, you are?” Mike asked, his eyebrows raised.

Tucker turned back to Mike, catching his eye and holding his stare, mentally challenging him to respond negatively. “Yeah, I am.”

Tucker only then noticed how hard his heart was pounding. He had come out to his friends in high school and didn’t deny it if people asked because he wasn’t ashamed of it, but he still wasn’t used to admitting it out loud. Though he knew it was impossible, he still felt those same nerves he had back home of being outed to his parents before he could tell them his way. They were generally kind people and Tucker knew it was irrational, but the possibility that they’d hate him or disown him entirely scared him. Having no known queer adults that his parents interacted with, he was unsure how they felt about the LGBT community. He’d meant to come out to them before he moved, but felt like the moment was never right and chickened out.

Mike was quiet for a moment, and Tucker could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he processed this information, but then he patted Tucker on the arm, walked back to his boxes, and unpacked again.

“That’s cool, dude,” Mike said as he started taking clothes out and putting them in his dresser, which was identical to Tucker’s. Though his words were nonchalant, Tucker could detect the nerves in Mike’s voice as he started to babble. “I mean, I’m cool with that. I’ve never met a gay guy in real life before. I watched an episode of Glee once with my sister and that had a gay character in it, which was cool too. But I don’t really watch that show. I’m not gay.”

“Dude, relax,” Tucker said with a relieved chuckle. “I know you’re not gay. I’m no different from you except for the fact that I’m into guys instead of girls. I’m not an alien or something.”

“Cool,” Mike said with a reassuring smile.

The two continued to get their room set up in silence, Mike unpacking his boxes and Tucker finally getting his fitted sheet on his mattress. Tucker felt more relaxed now that Mike knew he was gay and hadn’t flipped out and gone on a homophobic rant or tried to convert him, but he could tell his revelation had made Mike feel slightly uncomfortable for a moment.

Satisfied with the progress he’d made with unpacking so far, Tucker applied a fresh layer of deodorant and grabbed his wallet.

“Hey, do you want to go grab some dinner at the dining hall?” Tucker asked. “I’m starving and the rest of this can wait until after.”

“Sorry, man,” Mike said. “I’ve already got plans with some friends from back home after I finish unpacking.”

“Oh, okay. Some other time then.”

“Totally.”

Tucker walked towards the door, stopping to check his reflection in the mirror above the sink before stepping out. The redness in his face from moving in the heat had finally gone away, and his dark hair wasn’t as messy as he was expecting from sweating all day either.

“Hey, Tucker?” Mike said, stopping Tucker before he opened the door. Tucker turned and looked back at his new roommate, who stood with his hands in his pockets and a careful look on his face. “I just wanted to put it out there that it’s not because you told me you’re gay or anything. That was just a coincidence. I was surprised for a second, but I’m totally cool with it.”

Tucker shot him a quick, reassuring smile to ease any guilt Mike might have been feeling. “Yeah, you said that already,” Tucker joked. “Seriously, it’s cool. Don’t stress about it. I’d be hanging out with my friends too if any of them had moved in today. I’m gonna go, so I’ll see you later if you’re gone by the time I get back.”

“Definitely,” Mike said, visibly relaxing. “See you later, man.”

Tucker turned and walked out the door with a smile on his face, feeling confident about his new relationship with his roommate. The common area had emptied since Tucker had begun unpacking and the sun had set, yet the room seemed almost brighter now that the white light from the harsh fluorescent bulbs overhead lit the room instead of the sunlight through the windows on each wall. He felt his stomach growling and walked briskly to the entrance of the common area where the elevator was located. There was a hand-written sign on the elevator doors warning that it was under maintenance the rest of Saturday night and all day Sunday, but would be working again when classes began on Monday.

“Great,” Tucker muttered to himself, throwing the doors to the stairwell open and taking the stairs down to the lobby two at a time. When he got there, he was greeted with a downpour of rain and crackling thunder that shook the windows.

“Oh, come on!” he protested to no one in particular, as he was the only one in the lobby. “It was fine two seconds ago!”

There was a newspaper stand next to the doors leading to the rest of the campus, so Tucker grabbed two copies and quickly unfolded them to make a makeshift umbrella, and raced out into the storm.