Swim Coach: A Novel

by Sam E. Kraemer

  He hugged me. "Kiddo, we can all use a friend. I'll pick you up at seven. I'll bring coffee. Thanks again for coming out tonight, Colton."

  I nodded and went my way while he went his. I saw a lot of drunken people dressed in costumes, and I laughed. They were partying their asses off, and for a hot minute, I wished I'd had it in me to dress up and go to a party. Maybe next year?

  I opened the door to my dorm room seeing it was pitch black which was unusual. I could have sworn I'd left on a light when I'd gone to meet Lance. I flipped the switch beside the door for the harsh fluorescent overheads, and suddenly I was grabbed from behind and had something put over my mouth. I was shoved face first onto Nick's bed, and something was put over my head to block my view.

  "Hello, Colton. I told you we weren't done," I heard. I'd know that fucking voice, and as I began struggling, I felt another set of hands on me, tugging at my clothes.

  "You've got to hold him down to get the jeans off him," I heard.

  The next thing I knew, I was being tied to the bed, and as much as I struggled, it was no use. My jeans were down, along with my boxers, and…fuck, it was awful. I had what I was guessing was tape over my mouth so I couldn't scream, and then I felt the pain…the intense pain.

  There was a lot of grunting as I was violated in an unspeakable manner, and then it stopped, only to start again, that time was more painful than I could believe. My attackers were laughing and there was more grunting, and I closed my eyes and tried to remember happier times. I removed myself from that moment and thought of other things. Riding my bike on our old street. Swimming meets and the feel of the medal around my neck when I won my event. Learning to box from my dad…a skill which wasn't helping me at all at that moment.

  I don't know how long they were there or how many times they hurt me, but at some point, I lost track of everything and well, I welcomed the darkness. If I'd survive it? That was anyone's guess.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hell on Earth

  I woke to the sound of loud banging, and when I opened my eyes, I saw the thing on my head that had blocked my sight was gone, but the tape was still there. I could actually move my arms, which I remembered had been tied down the night before, so I reached up and pulled off the tape. I was still naked from the waist down, and as I moved to roll onto my back, I felt the horrible, fucking pain.

  I sat up, gasping because I felt all the breath leave my body because of the sharp pains everywhere, and I grabbed my boxers that were tossed on the floor. I pulled them on and walked to the door, opening it to find Lance with a cup of coffee in each hand and a donut bag hanging out of his mouth. When he got a look at me, the donut bag fell to the floor.

  "Colton, what happened?" I was blocking the door because I didn't know how much evidence of what had happened was visible, but me blocking Lance was like using a piece of cardboard to stop a speeding dump truck.

  I knew I didn't want anyone to know what had happened because it was humiliating, and I didn't want to deal with pity or sideways looks as the gossip spread about the poor little fag who got raped in his dorm room. "Sorry, man, I overslept. Let me just get some shit together and we'll get on the road."

  I hurried into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. The skin on my face surrounding my mouth was really red where I'd pulled off the duct tape, and I had a bruise on my cheek that was going to be impossible to hide. There were a couple of bite marks on my neck, one of which looked like it had bled based on the spots on my t-shirt, and well, my body ached like I'd been hit by that speeding dump truck.

  I stepped over to the commode to take a piss, and when I moved my boxers down, I felt them brush against my ass, and I felt completely disgusting. There was no way I could go to my mom's in such a mess, so I was going to have to take a shower. I finished peeing and tried to clean myself up a little with a washcloth so I could go back out into the room and grab my stuff to shower. As I went to toss it into the hamper, I noticed there was pink on it. I pulled down my boxers and saw there was a little blood, and that was when I started to cry.

  I couldn't hold back the sobs, and standing there crying like a baby only added to the shame. There was a knock on the door, and before I could tell Lance to go away, the door flew open. He was across the room in two long strides and pulled me into his muscular chest.

  "Colton, tell me what the fuck happened? Do not lie to me and don’t tell me ‘nothing’ because there's blood on Nick's bed, and I found a piece of duct tape I'd bet matches that mark over your mouth. Spill it."

  I couldn't speak. I could only sob, but I shook my head 'no' that I wasn't saying it out loud. His hands were running up and down my back, and it only made me cry harder because it hurt really fucking bad. Finally, my stomach had enough, and I pushed him away just in time to get to the commode where I lost what little was inside. I couldn't seem to stop, even after my stomach was empty, and I prayed I'd die.

  Lance was standing behind me, rubbing my back and offering me a clean towel and a glass of water. I rinsed my mouth, flushed the toilet, and stood up with his help. I saw him glance down at my shirt and without a word, he pulled it off of me. I froze.

  "No, no. You puked on it. I'm not going to hurt you, Colton. Hon, I think you need to let me take you to a hospital. You shouldn't shower first because they'll need to examine you and we'll need to bring your shirt along." I knew he was right, but there was no fucking way I was going to any hospital.

  "No way. I'm not going to the fucking hospital, Lance. I don't want anyone to know about this. You gotta swear you won't tell anyone. We won't talk about it ever again, do you understand? I'll be the freak of the school if anyone finds out," I begged. The tears were still falling, and they must have gotten to him because he nodded.

  I grabbed my shower stuff and went to my room to get clean clothes. I pulled on a pair of sweats over my dirty boxers and bent over to get a clean t-shirt, feeling the pain again. I heard Lance gasp, and I quickly turned around to see him standing there wide-eyed.

  "Colton, who wrote that on your back?" I looked over my shoulder as if I could screw my head around to see anything.

  "What's it say?"

  "This ass is mine. It's in black marker." Fuck, now I couldn't even take a goddamn shower in the shower room without fear of someone seeing it because I was pretty sure it wasn't coming off anytime soon.

  I looked at Nick's bed, seeing a fucking marker there without the cap. It had made a huge ink mark on Nick's blanket, and I knew it wasn't coming out of that comforter either. Nick was going to be heartbroken because he’d had it since he was a little boy, and I had no idea how I'd explain it to him.

  I sat on my bed and cried, hard. Just when I thought things were getting better, the Universe bitch slapped me to remind me I wasn't destined to be happy. Ever. Lance sat down next to me and wrapped a beefy arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I felt a kiss on the top of my head and it only made me cry harder.

  When I finally finished bawling like a baby, he handed me the towel I'd unconsciously brought with me from the bathroom, and I wiped my face again. "Okay. Are you still going to your Mom's?"

  "I have to, Lance. You don't have to go with me…" I began.

  He chuckled humorlessly. "Don't even say it. So, new plan. We pack your shit, and you and I go back to my place. You can take a shower in my bathroom, and we'll see if we can find something to get that off your back. I need to change my shirt because you got snot all over me, and then we'll head out."

  I looked at him and he smiled tenderly. "Come on, now. We need to get going." He went to my closet and grabbed a duffel bag, tossing it to me. I did as he said and packed my stuff for the weekend.

  I pulled on a sweatshirt and my trainers, and I gathered up the things off Nick's bed, stuffing them into a trash bag. I'd take them home and try to get them clean, and if I couldn't, then I'd buy Nick another comforter and try to come up with a plausible lie as to what had happened to his other one.

  We walked slowly out to
Lance's old Wagoneer, and after we were inside and on the way to his place, something popped into my addled brain. Andre. "Fuck, Lance, Andre's going to be there. I don't want to fucking see him. I don't want him to see me like this."

  He sighed. "I wish to fuck you'd tell me who did this!" I shook my head that I wasn't saying a word, so he continued.

  "Fine. Regarding Dre, I dumped his drunken ass into bed when I got home last night and based on the amount of whiskey missing from the bottle, he won't be waking up anytime soon. You can shower and change and we can be out of there without him knowing anything about it. I really do think you need to go to the hospital, Colton."

  Again, I knew he was right, but again, I wasn't about to tell anyone what had happened. "Lance, you're relieved of all responsibility regarding my refusal to go to the hospital. After I get a shower, I'm never going to think about this again, and I suggest you do the same."

  "Oh, yeah, I'll just forget that my very good friend was attacked in his own fucking dorm room. Was it random, or do you know who did it?"

  I sighed and looked out the side window. "I don't guess you'd believe I'm into S-and-M and it was completely consensual," I joked inappropriately.

  He grabbed my left arm and looked at my wrist, noticing the raw skin. "You were fucking tied up?" He pounded his fist on the steering wheel, catching me by surprise.

  "Lance, let it go."

  We drove the rest of the way in silence, and I was grateful Andre wasn't up when we got there. Lance directed me to his room and showed me where things were in his bathroom. "Okay, kid, I'm gonna go forage for something that might get that ink off your back. Take your time." He pulled the bedroom door closed behind him, and I went into his bathroom, stripping out of my clothes and stepping under the scalding, hot spray.

  I knew my skin was going to be bright red when I got out, but I felt like the hot water was the only thing that could get me clean…as clean as I was ever going to be again. My soul would never be clean again because I was now, as I was coming to realize, damaged goods. My heart, which was just starting to heal after Andre, was shattered beyond recognition, and as I stood under that spray, I made a promise to myself I would never be weak again. I wouldn't let anyone in, and I'd never feel the pain of loss again. If you don't get close to people, you don't miss them when they leave you.

  I scrubbed my skin ruthlessly, and after I got out, I looked into the mirror over the bathroom sink seeing I was glowing as if I’d spent the day in the sun without sunscreen. At least it would explain why my eyes were so fucking bloodshot. I turned around to see the writing on my back and fought back more fucking tears. I was done crying.

  The letters looked a little raised, which made me wonder how fucking hard they'd pressed when they wrote the filthy words. I quickly finished drying off and pulled on my boxers and a pair of loose jeans. I combed my hair and pulled it back, reminding myself I needed to get a haircut, and I went to Lance's room and sat down on the bed to wait for him.

  I heard yelling, and I got up from the bed and cracked the door. Apparently, Andre was up, and he and Lance were going at it pretty good.

  "YOU FUCKING KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT HIM. YOU’RE A COCKSUCKER, LANCE!”

  "Hey, you should have pursued him, douche. It's not my fault you failed to realize if you didn't show interest in him, someone else…who doesn't have commitment issues, by the way…would fall for him. Let's face it, you fucked this up, and I'm not sorry about it in the least."

  "I hope he rips your fucking heart out and stomps on it."

  "Like you did his?"

  I closed the door and my eyes, wondering what the fuck to do. I didn't want them fighting over me, and I didn't know what Lance had told him about us. Shit just kept getting worse.

  A few minutes later, Lance came back in with an armload of shit. "What's all that?" I asked, picking up a container of salt, a can of hairspray, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and hand sanitizer. He dropped everything on the bed and went to the bathroom, returning with a roll of toilet paper.

  "Okay, I Googled this and they said to try some of this stuff, so I brought it all. Let's start with rubbing alcohol since that seems to be a theme in the ingredients of all the rest of this shit except salt. It also said toothpaste and mouthwash, but since you've already showered and that particular solution has the potential to make a mess, we'll save it as a last resort."

  I nodded and turned my back to him. "I heard you and Dre yelling. What did you tell him?"

  "He heard the shower and asked if Juan was here. Since he was up, I knew I couldn't…"

  Suddenly, I screamed. "FUCK! THAT BURNS!" I winced away and turned to see a look of shock on Lance's face. He turned the toilet paper to me and I saw some of the ink from the marker, along with blood. Oh, I had a very bad feeling.

  "Colton, hon, whoever did this to you, he wanted to be sure you didn't forget it anytime soon. He carved the words into your back with something to pierce the skin, and then he went over it with a marker. It's a prison tat…"

  Just then, the door flew open and Andre rushed in, tackling Lance. "What the fuck are you doing to him?" He had Lance on the floor, and he was about to try to beat the fuck out of him. I quickly grabbed Andre's raised fist with both hands to stop him.

  "Don't! It's not his fault!" Andre turned around from his seat on Lance's chest, and when he saw me, he quickly got up, pulling up my face by my chin.

  "Did Lance hit you?" he snapped. I was aware I was standing there without a shirt, and God knew I didn't want him to see my back. If he saw it, he'd ask questions I didn't want to answer, and I was afraid weak Colton would confess things that could never be unsaid.

  "Of course, he didn't hit me. I got into a fucking fight at a bar last night. You need to leave, okay? I'm taking Lance home to meet my mom, and we need to get on the road." I backed over to the door and stood with my back to the wall.

  Lance got up from the floor and walked over to where I stood, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "Dre, I didn't hurt Colton. I'd never, ever hurt Colton, and you know that. I can't…"

  Suddenly, Lance grabbed me and pulled me into his chest, holding me tightly before I knew what was happening. I heard Andre gasp, and I went limp. I'd trusted Lance, and he'd just broken that trust. I was truly alone in the world.

  Chapter Twelve

  Aftermath

  "Oh, God, who did this? What happened?" Andre begged. My legs buckled, and if Lance wouldn't have been holding me up, I'd have fallen to the floor.

  I looked into Lance's eyes which had tears, and I asked, "Why?" It was barely above a whisper, but I had to know why he'd do the one thing I'd pleaded with him not to do. Tears were rolling down Lance’s cheeks, and I felt my own dripping onto my chest. I'd thought I was cried out, but apparently, I wasn't.

  "Because, Colton, it's going to take more than me to get you through this. Since you refuse to go to the hospital, and I'm guessing the cops are a no-go, you've got to let us help you. You won't tell me who did this, and since I can't be two places at once, I need someone to help keep you safe."

  I pulled away and walked over to my duffel, grabbing a dark brown t-shirt and pulling it on. I turned to the two of them and took a deep breath. "It's no big deal, okay? The ink will wear off eventually, and we aren’t gonna talk about it again. You don’t have to keep me safe because I can take care of myself. If there hadn't been two of them and they hadn't surprised me, it never would have…" Fuck! Based on the look on both of their faces, they'd heard my word vomit and caught every syllable.

  "There were two of them?" Andre snapped, eyes wide.

  "They taped his mouth shut and tied him to the fucking bed," Lance added, the mouthy fucker.

  Andre stepped in front of me, reaching out and then thinking better of it when I flinched in anticipation of his touch. "Colton, you need to go to the hospital. Fuck, did they even use condoms?"

  More fucking tears. "Nope. I'm just a dirty whore now," I whispered as I dried my eyes. I sat down, gingerly,
on the bed and pulled on my socks. It was a bit dramatic, but I didn't notice a condom or an empty package, so my life would be filled with testing every three-to-six-months. Welcome to the queer world!

  I turned to look at the two of them, both crying, and I decided the time for self-pity was over. "Look, this has been fun, but I need to get to Unionville. As it is, I'm going to have to get the ten o'clock bus, which puts me at not getting there until two. I need to call Mom and see if she can push the time for the memorial service so I don't miss it. Thanks for letting me shower here, Lance. I'll see you guys around," I tossed out as I grabbed my shit and headed to the kitchen for a bottle of water so I could take two pain relievers I'd found in Lance's bathroom.

  Lance came strolling in with Andre behind him. "Dude, if you think I'm going to let you take the fucking bus, you're crazy. You can rant and rave at me for four hours. Let's go. Dre, we'll be back sometime on Sunday."

  "Oh, you think I'm not coming?" He raced down the hallway, and I leaned against the sink. It was the last fucking thing I wanted. I swear to fuck I was going to have a nervous breakdown.

  "Lance, I don't want him to come. I have enough to deal with without him being there." I sounded fucking pathetic, but it was the truth.

  "I'm on it." He walked out of the kitchen and down the hall. Ten minutes later, he came back with Andre following him, thankfully without a bag.

  "I won't go. Lance explained to me how stressful this weekend is, and I don't want to add to it, but when you get back we're going to talk, Colton. There's a lot of shit we need to say to each other, and if I have to tie…sit in the hallway of your dorm until you hear me out, I'll do it." I knew what he was about to say, and it made me a little sick to my stomach. I wasn't sure why, but it did, and I prayed to God it wasn't something I'd have to live with the rest of my life. I prayed for some sort of amnesia to overtake me so I didn't remember being tied to my bed or blindfolded or… Yeah, not going there.