Swim Coach: A Novel

by Sam E. Kraemer

  "What were your events?" Lance asked.

  "Two-hundred-meter breaststroke and four-hundred-meter freestyle," I responded.

  "Were you any good?" Heidi the Whore asked as she smacked a piece of toast disgustingly.

  "Colton won both events every time he competed," Andre replied as he sipped his coffee. I, however, was stuck in hell. All I wanted to do was get the fuck out of there.

  Juan laughed. "What other strokes you good at?" Lance and Heidi laughed with him, and I was fucking confused.

  "Fuck off, all of you. Come on, Squid, I'll let you out," Andre stated forcefully as he rose from the table. I waved goodbye to the three at the table and went to the bench to retrieve my dirty shirt, the blanket, and the pillow.

  I hurried to the door and tried to open it to get the fuck out, but it wouldn't open. Andre walked up and turned the deadbolt, making me feel like a fucking idiot. "Colton, don't mind them. They need other shit to worry about. They were just teasing you because they're all insecure. I'll stop by later to pick up my book.

  "Remember, if you get in a bind again, call me. We Squids have to look out for each other. There's a shuttle to take you back to campus at the bus stop. It's free. Have a great day," he responded with a fatherly squeeze to my shoulder. I didn't like it at all, but what the fuck was I going to do. I could pretend it meant something else until the cows came home, but I knew it didn't, and I wasn't about to have another Kelvin episode on my hands. The best thing to do was to avoid him. At least it was a plan.

  "Colton, there's a really hot guy at the front desk asking for you," Amanda told me as she shook my shoulder, drawing me from the mortifying memory of the morning.

  I turned to her and rose from my place on the floor. "Tall, good-looking with reddish hair?" I asked her, certain it was Andre.

  "Oh, yeah. All kinds of dreamy," she sighed.

  I walked over to the desk and picked up his book, handing it to her. "Do me a huge favor. Tell him you couldn't find me but you found this book with his name on it."

  She looked at me like I was insane. "Mandy, I don't want to…"

  "Colton, this isn't exactly the National Archives back here. How do I tell him I couldn't find you in the stockroom?"

  I thought for a minute. "Tell him I stepped out to make a delivery. He'll believe that. I just can't face him, okay?"

  Thankfully, she took the book and looked at me. "Fine, but you owe me the story. He's gorgeous, and you're crazy for avoiding him."

  I nodded, remembering she'd moved to Unionville the year after Andre had moved to LA. Her father, a Lutheran minister, was assigned to the local church, and she and Bryana became good friends. After I was outed, she and Bryana became my only friends, so I knew I could trust Amanda with the story.

  "Lunch is on me," I told her. She kissed my cheek and walked out without another word.

  I went about my task of unloading the books from the earlier shipment, trying not to think about Andre Dupree. Mindless work seemed to be going in my favor, so I walked over to my backpack and grabbed my phone, shoving it into the waist of my jeans before popping in the earbuds.

  I was lost in the music and dancing a bit as I continued reviewing orders and packing boxes. When I felt a hand on my shoulder, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned to see Andre Dupree standing there with a big grin on his very handsome face.

  I pulled out my earbuds and looked at him. "Is there, uh, something I can do for you? Amanda gave you your book, right?" My hands immediately started sweating as the vision of him backing me up against the metal bookshelves and kissing me senseless ran through my head unbidden.

  He held up a bag. "She did. Thanks for pulling it for me. I just wanted to make sure my friends didn't make you uncomfortable. They're asses on a good day, and with the hangovers they were nursing this morning, I'm afraid they might have been a bit much to take on."

  I didn't want to let on I was embarrassed about the past twenty-four hours and his friends were just the icing on the cake. I didn't know how to handle the feelings I had for him so I shoved them aside, put a smile on my face, and put on my best 'I don't give a fuck' attitude.

  "No worries, Dre. They weren't that bad. Trust me, I'm used to far worse. Look, you're nice to offer to help me out if I get in a bind again, but I need to get my shit together. I'll get used to college life, and you don't have to be my big brother, Coach. I know how to take care of myself and I'm used to it because I’ve been doing it for quite a while," I told him as I went back to work so I didn't have to look him in the eye.

  "Colton, I'm not trying to manage you, and I think I should…"

  I turned to him and held up my hands in surrender. "Look, Andre, you and I don't have anything in common except for you being my swim coach, okay? I'm damn sure your friends wouldn't…well, my sexual orientation probably wouldn't go over with you and your friends. I'm gay and historically, when people find out, I don't hear from them anymore. The best thing is for you and me to just forget we ran into each other. I mean, your classes likely aren't anywhere near my classes, and if I find myself without a place to sleep, I'll figure it out on my own.

  "I hope you don't think I was trying to put the moves on you when I was sleeping in your bed, but you moved me there so it's not like I was trying to get you to switch teams. I’ve lived through enough shit in high school about being gay, and I was hoping my college experience would be a lot more tolerant," I stated firmly.

  "You're gay?"

  Dear God? Colton Wixsom here. Why are you putting me through more sh…stuff like high school? I thought I suffered enough, but I have to do this yet again? I'd appreciate it if you'd back off on this. I haven't had sex with anyone, so it's not like I'm sinning here. Please take it into consideration. Sincerely, Colton.

  I sighed heavily. "I'm gay. I swear I didn't perv on you while you slept. Just, please, don't say anything. Please go," I begged.

  His mouth was open when we both heard, "Colton Wixsom to the front. Colton Wixsom to the front."

  I didn't wait around for any comment from Andre. I hurried out of the room, seeing the checkout line was wrapped around the stacks, so I went to the front and opened the fourth register which we rarely used. I noticed out of the corner of my eye Andre was hovering, and I prayed he'd just let it go and leave.

  The next time I looked up he was gone, and I was fucking relieved. I steeled my mind and my heart, hoping I'd not have the occasion to hear from him or run into him ever again because it was for the best. In fact, I was certain it was for the best.

  I trudged back to Hansee at ten-thirty that night after grabbing a piece of pizza at the only stand open in the food court. My plan was to shower, eat, and pass out until I had to be at my first class, Literature, at eight the next morning.

  When I took the elevator to the third floor, I walked down the hallway to my room, dreading every fucking step. I prayed to God that when I opened the door the puke was cleaned up because I didn't want to have to do it, especially after the day I'd had. It was non-stop idiots, and I was thrilled I didn't have to work on Wednesday.

  I shoved my key into the lock and the door opened before I turned the knob. I was immediately pissed and fully expected everything I owned would be gone. I walked in and saw the dirty blonde puker on his bed with his laptop resting on his stomach.

  The sounds coming from it immediately alerted me that he was watching porn. It was only punctuated by the fact his hand was down his sweats. God, why?

  I immediately turned my back and stood at the door. "Uh, dude, seriously?" How fucking rude could he be?

  "Shit. Sorry, man. I didn't know if you were coming back or not. I'll, uh, I'll be back," he replied as he hopped up and closed his laptop, leaving me there alone. He went into the bathroom, which was where I wanted to go, so I sat down on the bed with my pajamas, waiting for the douche to return.

  After a few minutes, and I didn't contemplate what the fuck he was doing in there, he came back. His face was wet, and he was only wearin
g a towel. He had a muscular body, but there was something about him that just set me on edge.

  "Jamie Turner," he introduced, sticking his hand out. I had to live with the dick for nine months, so I decided to let go of preconceived notions and try to make friends.

  "Colton Wixsom. How bad was your headache this morning?" I asked, trying to remind him of his antics the previous night which led me to sleep somewhere else, thus delaying our formal introductions.

  He smirked and dropped the towel without shame. I saw his cock, and I was grateful it wasn't hard. I looked at the floor and reached down to untie my shoes, ignoring him altogether.

  "Look, man, I'm sorry about last night. It wasn't the best way to meet your new roommate. I cleaned the place today, and if I go out with friends and get drunk again in the future, I'll make sure to sleep with a trash can nearby. It was shitty of me to run you out of here, and I won't do it again."

  I glanced up and saw he was dressed, so I stood from my bed, clutching my pajama pants and a clean t-shirt. "Look, it's not that big a deal, okay? It wasn't the best way to meet my new roommate, but let’s forget it and start over.

  "I think I should let you know I'm gay. If you don't like the idea of having a gay roommate or you have a problem with it, then I'll go to the RA and get reassigned," I offered, praying he'd run screaming from the room.

  Unfortunately, he didn't. "Hey, dude, I don't give a shit who you fuck. You ever wanna give me a blowjob, feel free. A blow job is a blow job, regardless of who gives it," he surmised.

  I rose from my bed and walked to the door, turning around to face him. "I won't be giving you a blow job, okay? I, uh, I'm not really out here at school, but I thought you should know," I told him. I hurried down to the shower room so I could get clean and get ready for bed.

  I fucking hated the communal shower, but I didn't have a choice in it. We had a toilet and a sink in our room, but if you wanted a shower, you had to go down the hall. It sucked a lot, and I immediately thought about Andre's bathtub where I'd attempted to sleep the prior night. I wished to fuck I had that luxury in my shitty dorm room.

  When I came out of the shower with a towel around my waist, I walked over to the bench upon where my clothes had been left, only to find they weren't there. I looked around and saw my roommate standing by the door with my clothes in his hands. He flipped the lock on the door and tossed my things on the floor.

  "What, fag, my cock ain't good enough for you to suck?"

  God, this isn't going to be good. I didn't want any trouble and I certainly didn't want to start off on the wrong foot with the guy, but I definitely wasn't going to take any shit. "Jamie, you don't want to start anything with me. I might be a fag, but I can definitely take care of myself. We don't need to begin our college lives this way. Just open the door and give me my things."

  He laughed darkly. "Wixsom, I think you're not going to get out of here without sucking my cock. I wasn't able to finish jacking off before you interrupted me. I think you owe me one," he taunted darkly.

  I whipped off the towel and stalked over to where he stood with my clothes at his feet. I grabbed my boxers and bent to put them on when he shoved me again and his knee met my right eye, knocking me on my bare ass.

  I stood up and finished pulling on my boxers, watching him the whole time, the ass wipe. I felt the throb of my eye, but I told myself not to start any trouble. "I'm going to guess that was an accident. I'm not gonna suck you off, and you're not gonna touch me again, you understand?" I snapped as I faced him without fear.

  He seemed surprised which was to my advantage. "Go talk to the RA and get yourself another room if you don't want to be my roommate. I'm not interested in you, but if it makes you uncomfortable to live with me then by all means move. It makes no difference to me," I told him as I finished getting dressed. I reached up and flipped the lock, grabbing my things and heading back to our room without waiting for him.

  I went to bed and fell into an exhausted sleep. College so far…sucked.

  Chapter Four

  Leave Me Alone

  A few days later, I was walking across the quad when I heard my name called. I turned to see Amanda and Bryana hurrying toward me. I'd been trying to avoid Bryana until my eye cleared up. I wasn’t about to explain to them what had really happened with my roommate because I was trying to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot or maybe he was having trouble adjusting to being away from home? I had to hope that was the case.

  I turned to the side and hoped the encounter would be short. "Where the fuck have you been? I've been calling you, Colt," Bryana chastised.

  I reached into my shirt pocket and pulled out my sunglasses, suddenly remembering I had them before I turned to look at her. "I've been attending classes, Bryana. I didn't get any of your calls," I lied.

  Amanda glared at me because I'd told her when we were at work that I fell and hit my face against an open desk drawer. My attempt at hiding the black eye only gave her more ammunition to speculate I'd been in a fight like she'd insinuated the previous day when we were straightening shelves together.

  Bryana reached up and jerked my glasses off, turning my face roughly to the side for a better look. "Uh-huh. A drawer? Really, Colton? I'm not stupid. What the hell happened?" she demanded.

  "Fine. Some dickhead tried to steal my backpack. I decked him, but he hit back. He didn't get it, but he got one good punch in before he ran off. Satisfied?" I snarled at her.

  She reached up and gently brushed her fingers over my eye, causing me to wince. "Did you call campus police?"

  Fuck! "Uh, yeah. I gave them a description, well as best I could remember. Look for a guy about my size with dark hair and a broken nose. That's who they're looking for," I lied.

  "God, Colton. I'm so sorry. Do you think he targeted you because you're gay?" she asked. I was immediately pissed off because it wasn't like I wore a fucking sign, but honestly, my attacker did injure me because I was gay, so I couldn't be too mad at her for jumping to the conclusion.

  "I have no idea. Do I swish my hips or something?" I asked as I walked away with an exaggerated gait. I kept on walking, leaving them behind me, both laughing hysterically.

  I went to the library to do some research and work on homework. I didn't want to do it in my room because I didn’t want to run into my roommate, which was apt to make for a long semester.

  Why I didn't go to the RA, Ahmed, after it happened wasn't anything I wanted to explore. Jamie hadn't done anything since the altercation in the shower room, and I was trying my best to believe he was just an asshole without much behind it. I hadn't hit him, but I'd beat him senseless if he tried anything else. I was resolved in that decision.

  I saw a backpack hit the table in front of me, and considering the library was really fucking big and empty, I was surprised some asshat sat down with me. When I looked up, I saw it was Andre. He looked pissed, and I wasn't sure why.

  "I called you three times," he hissed at me.

  I pulled out my phone and looked at my missed calls, seeing he had, indeed, called me three times and left three voicemails. My phone was on "silent" because I’d been in class, never mind the fact I didn't want to speak with anyone. I'd been ignoring his calls because I didn't want to have the discussion with him regarding my gay status and his unnecessary desire to be a big brother to me.

  "So?" I responded as I tossed my phone on the table and went back to my research. I didn't look up, and thankfully, he was on my right side so my black eye wasn't visible to him. I didn't want to explain that to him either.

  "The least you could do is look me in the eye, Colton. I thought we were friends," he snapped at me.

  I laughed. "We're not friends, Coach. I appreciate the fact you feel responsible for helping me ease into college life since you knew me when I was a kid, but I can take care of myself."

  He narrowed his eyes at me, noticing my bruised eye. "What happened to you?"

  I took a deep breath. "I trip
ped over a pair of shoes and whacked my face on the desk in my room the other day, but I'm fine. No blood spilled."

  I turned back to my book and ignored him. Unfortunately, he didn't ignore me. "That roommate, what's his name?"

  I was immediately defensive because I didn’t need him riding in on a white horse. If Jamie and I were going to be roommates, we had to figure things out for ourselves and I didn’t need anyone, much less Andre Dupree, butting into the situation. I grabbed my shit to pack it up. "Look, my roommate is no concern of yours. He apologized for that night when he puked, and there've been no problems since. Things are fine, okay? Leave me alone."

  I stormed out of the library and went back to my dorm room, grateful to find it empty. I just wanted quiet. I just wanted to be left a-fucking-lone. Why didn't people get that?

  Life seemed to be getting better. It had been three weeks since the issue with my roommate and the black eye, and while I'd asked the RA for one of us to be reassigned, Jamie seemed to be gone most of the time so I was pretty sure I could deal with it if nothing came of my request.

  I'd been working my regular shifts at the store which wasn't bad after the initial onslaught at the start of school. I did more cleaning than anything at the bookstore, and I didn't hate it because I didn't have to deal with the customers too much.

  I got home from work at eight o'clock and hurried to grab my shower kit. It was Bryana's birthday, and Amanda and I were taking her to a Mexican restaurant for dinner and then we were going to a frat party at the Sigma Phi house that night. I was planning to bow out of the party, citing homework as my excuse, but I'd go for dinner.

  We arrived at the restaurant where I learned my two best friends had procured themselves fake IDs and proceeded to get fucking hammered throughout dinner, which totally pissed me off. I couldn't leave them at a frat party with both of them fucked up before we got there, so my excuse for not going was dead in the water.