MADDOX

THE WALK DOWN to the pool and into Coach Larson’s office was a special kind of torture, but I’d avoided my problems long enough. It was time to face the music. And maybe Ren’s blind optimism about explaining my feelings would actually do me some good. Being open and honest about how I felt with him had only done good things for my life, so maybe it would apply here too?

I passed by Garrison, Ahmet, and O’Conner practicing in the pool, staring straight ahead to avoid eye contact with any of them. I didn’t know if they saw me or not, but I knew they’d probably shit-talked me the entire trip. That was somewhat fair, since I shit-talked them to my friends on a semi-regular basis, too.

As I made my way to the other end of the huge room to where his office was located, I noted the other handful of guys on the team that didn’t associate with the moron triplets much. Maybe I should have just leaned into hanging out with them more instead of trying to force civility with three guys I couldn’t stand. But was it too late? Had O’Conner already spread rumors about me that couldn’t be taken back now?

Peering in through the glass panel, I saw Coach Larson at his desk, filling out paperwork. I rapped my knuckles on the door, and he waved me in.

“Alright, Holmes,” he greeted me. His tone wasn’t exactly friendly, but it wasn’t exactly hateful either. “You said you have a reason for missing the trip. I want to hear it.”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. I’d rehearsed this conversation in my head a lot, so I knew exactly what I wanted to say.

“I thought about what you said, about me not bonding with the team, and I want to explain myself and hopefully give you a better understanding of why I haven’t been willing to do that.”

“Alright.”

“Certain members of the team exhibit a lot of behavior that I don’t… Agree with,” I decided on the word. I thought about how in the beginning I’d ignored all their bullshit about Arie and disrespecting girls all the time. It wasn’t right, and I shouldn’t have to listen to shit like that. “And even besides that, I’ve had other team members verbally attack me or go out of their way to insult me.”

“You new to sports, Holmes?” He asked, leaning back into his chair and giving me a smugly curious look.

“No, I’m not,” I answered flatly. “I’ve been on one team or another since I was five. The stuff I’m talking about isn’t normal locker room ribbing or hazing.”

“Okay,” he said lightly, like he was humoring a small child. My already ragged nerves crackled. This is why I didn’t come to people with my problems. It was a complete fucking waste of time and energy. “So what did these certain members say, exactly?”

“O’Conner called me a fag, sir.” I was already done trying to be politely vague.

Coach Larson tilted his head at me, staring at me for several seconds before responding. “Well, are you?”

“Excuse me?” Shock washed over me, my response bursting out of my mouth before I could even fully process his words.

“Are you a fag, Holmes?”

“What the fuck does that matter?”

“If you aren’t, then why would it bother you?”

“Maybe I don’t want to be on a team and bond with people who use homophobic slurs?” I said, feeling as though I was stating the obvious.

He inhaled deeply, tapping his fingers on the desk. “I didn’t realize you were so sensitive. I thought we were a men’s team. But if that’s how you feel…”

“That’s how I feel,” I said, in as much of a deadpan tone as I could manage. He was the absolute worst kind of person. My heart was pumping overtime in my chest and I felt like I was breaking out in a cold sweat.

“Alright, then,” he said, shrugging a shoulder. “Let’s go take care of your little problem.” He stood up, opening the door to his office and gesturing for me to walk through it. Even though my blood was whooshing through my veins at breakneck speeds, I did so. He followed closely behind me as we made our way back over to the pool, where the team was lounging around or practicing. “Guys, listen up. New rule.”

Was he really doing what I thought he was doing? I felt dizzy, like the room was spinning around me. I’d never been the kind of guy to bring up team issues, but even I couldn’t have imagined a worse outcome for this conversation.

“It’s been brought to my attention that some of you on the team have been making jokes that others are finding offensive. Let’s keep in mind that not everyone can take a joke, and be more aware of who’s around to be sure we don’t trigger anybody. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Coach.” Garrison, O’Conner, and Ahmet answered him, as well as a couple other of the guys on the team, smirking at each other and scoffing at me. But the rest of the team just looked shocked and confused.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked, shaking my head in disbelief.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Holmes,” he said. That stupid fucking smug expression was still painted on his face. “You said you had a problem, and I addressed it with the team. I’ve done my job. You need to do yours.”

“Fuck this,” I spat out at him, whirling on my heel and storming off toward the door.

“If you’re not at the meet tonight, you’re off the team, Holmes. I can’t accommodate your unreasonable behavior any longer,” he called after me.

I didn’t answer, slamming through the gym doors with so much force that they smacked the walls in the hallway.

“You’re not actually going to the meet, are you?” Ren asked, the moment I’d finished telling him what had happened.

“I don’t know.” My voice was muffled against the crook of his neck and shoulder.

“Maddy,” he said, sounding shocked. “You can’t be serious. You’re not thinking of actually staying on the team, are you?”

“No,” I answered. That part I was sure about. “I’m quitting the team.” My dad was just going to have to deal. I couldn’t exactly explain to him why yet, but… I’d figure it out. “But quitting right before a meet is just extra shitty. It’s going to fuck over the guys on the team that didn’t do anything to me.”

“Yeah, but… You can’t let them treat you like that,” he insisted.

“I won’t. I’m just going to swim at the meet, and then I’m done,” I promised. “It’ll be quick and painless, I swear.”

“I don’t know…” He said, tilting my head back so he could stare down into my eyes. “I don’t trust that bastard coach around you anymore.”

“Ren,” I said, a little laugh bubbling out of my mouth despite the tense and unhappy atmosphere. He’d sounded so serious and bad-ass, like he was going to challenge Coach Larson to a pistol duel at dawn. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“That’s kind of impossible for me, Maddy. I care about you, so of course I’m going to worry.”

The sincere tone of his voice and the genuine concern in his eyes were just too much. Unfolding myself from the little ball I’d crumpled into against his chest, I climbed more securely up onto the bed, lightly pushing him onto his back so I could straddle his hips.

“You’re still coming to the convention center, right?” I asked.

He sighed, obviously aware that I was changing the subject. I could understand his feelings, and I really did appreciate them, but my mind was made up. One last swim, and then I’d be done for good.

“Yeah.”

“And if anyone says anything mean to me, you’ll kick their ass, right?” I asked, trying my best to give him puppy eyes while I poked my lips out in a stupid pout.

He chuckled, but nodded. “I’ll do my best.” I didn’t really want that from him, anyway. I loved what a genuinely nice and friendly person he was.

When I brought my hands up to rest on his chest, he reached out and caught them, lacing our fingers together.

“I’ll just be really glad when you quit,” he told me seriously, giving my hands a little squeeze. “They seriously don’t deserve you. That coach should be fired.”

He was probably right about that, but I didn’t want to be involved anymore. Someone else could be the hero and dismantle the oppressive establishment. Or whatever.

“Well, then you’ll be glad tonight. Because after this meet, I’m 100% done,” I swore.

“We should celebrate by getting a bunch of, like, ice cream and junk food,” he suggested.

I gave him a wry look, but I couldn’t stop the smile from tugging up the corner of my mouth. “I’m quitting the swim team, not abandoning the concept of fitness altogether. I still need to be in shape to work in sports medicine,” I reminded him.

“Oh, right.”

“And I don’t think you’d want me totally dropping that, anyway,” I said, bringing my fingers down the front of my shirt to rest on the hem before teasingly pulling it up a few inches.

His eyes instantly dropped down to my exposed skin, his eyebrows perking up with his appreciation. “Well, yeah, there is that.”

Biting down into my lower lip, I tilted my head when I felt his dick stiffening and pressing up into where my ass was resting on him.

“So how long do you think Aspen’s going to be making himself scarce?” I wondered.

“Um… Probably a while.”

“You sure about that?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, nodding eagerly. “Pretty sure. Definitely sure, actually.”

Chuckling, I leaned forward to slant my mouth over his. “Okay, as long as you’re definitely sure.”

I took an Uber to the convention center, because I didn’t want to ride with anyone. I just wanted time to myself, to think. I knew Ren and Cyprian were coming to watch, which was nice. Since I’d shown up just before the events were supposed to start, they might have already been in the stands, waiting to see me.

There were tons of people in the parking lot, already heading inside. As I made my way back to the restricted area for the teams only, I passed by lots of guys from other teams, clowning around and goofing off. They looked happy and excited. I’d never felt that way about swimming.

I checked the time sheet, discovering that my first heat would be in about twenty minutes, before heading back to the locker room area to get changed. I’d brought my equipment with me in a duffel bag.

As I slipped out of my street clothes into the stupid little speedo that I actually hated, I thought about how annoying it would be to have to listen to Coach Larson’s repetitive, droning speech about DQ’s and pacing.

A sudden sense of relief washed over me, as the fact that after this I’d be really and truly free from this activity that I’d come to absolutely despise. I let myself sit on the bench in the empty little area designated for the Byron Bay Barracudas, and made a brief mental apology to the cartoon barracuda mascot. Nothing personal, buddy. Barracudas seemed kind of cool, based on my shallow research on Google.

When I only had a few minutes left, I headed back out to the main area with the pools, toward the banner with our team’s name on it. Several of the guys on the team looked surprised to see me, but not the three assholes, or Coach Larson. But they didn’t say anything. I was starting to get the idea they didn’t want to be around me any more than I wanted to be around them. That was fine. I wasn’t expecting an apology or an acknowledgment. I just wanted to get this over with.

When the time for my heat rolled around a few minutes later, I got up onto the diving block. To my surprise and extreme annoyance, I saw O’Conner walking towards me. Biting down on my tongue to keep from telling him to fuck off, I just closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to channel every ounce of my inner zen. If I even had any inner zen.

“What do you want, O’Conner? I’m about to race.”

“Just thought I’d come wish you luck, Holmes. You’re going to need it.”

“Actually, I won’t,” I corrected him. “Maybe you should spend your energy wishing yourself good luck. Then you might actually place.”

“I can’t believe you went whining and crying to Coach like he was going to give a shit about us joking around. I hope you’re better at taking a dick than you are at taking a joke.”

The reality of the moment, of what I was about to do, and all the hours I’d spent dealing with this bullshit came crashing down on me in that moment, obliterating the tranquility I’d felt in the locker room. Why did I give a shit about one last race? None of this ever meant anything to me in the first place. I’d only been doing it to please my dad.

Ripping off my goggles and swim cap, I chucked them down onto the stone floor, and took a deep breath. I’d need a lot of breath for everything I had to say.