Swim Coach: A Novel

by Sam E. Kraemer

  "Okay, tell me what happened, Andre. You know my shitty situation is not your business to avenge," I bitched. Too many people knew what the fuck had happened, and my hopes of keeping it quiet were quickly floating away like so much smoke.

  He leaned forward as he sat on the side of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, and then took a deep breath, letting it go slowly. "Under ordinary circumstances, if I was dealing with someone I considered a friend, I'd listen, try to find them some sort of counseling or support group, and then I'd be there for them, offering any care or support they needed."

  "I don't need any of that. This shit never happened," I stated firmly and stood from the couch, ready to tempt the fates and walk back to my dorm.

  He grabbed my hand and looked deeply into my eyes. "Colton, love, you can't deny this happened. What we can do is get revenge and make sure it doesn't happen again. I've set up a situation because I know who the fuck did that to you, and after we deal with them, then we'll look into the options regarding your back."

  I sat down on the couch and looked at him. "What's this 'we' bullshit? There's no 'we'. You don't want to be a part of a 'we', Andre. It's you and your slutty lifestyle, and me and my…issue. That's the end of it," I stated firmly.

  I sat looking at him and I saw the last thing I wanted to see. Pity. "I don't know what you did or what you think you're going to accomplish, but don't include me. I need to go."

  I stood to leave, and he grabbed my wrist, which brought a hiss from me. He looked at it and quickly moved his hand. "I'm sorry, Colton. Look, let me take you back to your dorm and come check your…"

  I laughed…though it wasn't happy. It wasn't funny at all. "Oh, so you're going to babysit me? Yeah, I don't think so. I'm fine."

  I stormed out and went to Lance's Wagoneer, thankful it was still open. I grabbed my shit from the weekend and proceeded to walk back to my dorm. God knew I was aware of every man, woman, and squirrel around me. I'd never be left unaware again. I'd never let anyone get the better of me twice.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Californication

  "Three of a kind, boys," Andre called proudly as he flipped his cards. I laughed. He reached to grab the pot, and I stilled his hands.

  "Sorry, gorgeous. Full house. Deuces and ladies," I announced as I spread my hand of three-twos and two queens. Everyone else had folded, and I was mopping up. It was the Tuesday night before the last day of classes prior to Thanksgiving break. We had a week off, and well, we knew most of us weren't going to class the next day, so as we sat at Andre and Lance's dining room table with snacks and beers, we were having a good time.

  Juan and Lance were…well, I didn't know what the fuck they were, but they were spending time together again. Andre and I were as well, and Nick, God bless him, was learning to play poker.

  He had no idea what had happened to me, but he didn't complain one bit when I propped my desk chair under the door handle in our room even though the lock had been changed. The charges against Andre had been dropped, though I didn't know who had brought them in the first place, and we'd all been hanging out. It actually made me feel a little normal.

  "So, what's everybody doing for the holiday?" Lance asked as he shuffled the cards.

  "I'm going back to New York. Damon's doing better, and he's coming home as well, so it will be the strange Asian-slash-soul food Thanksgiving. My mom's looking forward to it," Nick stated and then laughed. He was a little bit more than drunk, and I cracked up at him.

  "I'm going to North Carolina," Juan announced as he took Lance's hand and smiled. That was a development I didn't expect, but more power to them.

  "I'm going back to Cali," Andre stated as he finished his beer and asked if anyone wanted more.

  My mom was going to New York to see Zoey, and I'd encouraged her to do so because it seemed Zoey was actually trying to reach out to Mom. Bitch wasn't trying with me, but I’m not going to sweat it.

  I, however, was stuck with either staying at school or going to Unionville to spend the holiday with Bryana and her dad. It really didn't sound fun, so I decided to stay at school. I'd already put in the paperwork to stay in the one dorm they were going to keep open for those of us who had nowhere to go, and I had a coupon for a place on campus for a free Thanksgiving buffet.

  I was a little nervous about staying somewhere strange. Actually, I was fucking terrified at the idea of sharing a room with a stranger. The only thing worse than staying with a stranger…having to stay by myself.

  As long as Nick was in the dorm room with me, I was fine, but when he wasn't there I didn't sleep at all. I sat on my bed with a can of pepper spray that had been a high school graduation gift from Sheriff Wynn, and I waited. I knew that fuck would come back sometime, but I'd be ready for him.

  "Well, Alder Hall is the designated pity motel for those of us who aren't going home, so I'm staying here. Mom's in New York with Zoey, so I'm staying on campus. I've got a coupon to the Rotunda for dinner, so I've got that going for me," I stated sarcastically as I got up to go take a leak.

  After I finished in the bathroom next to Andre's room, I opened the door and walked out. I felt a hand on my wrist, and when my head whipped around, I turned to see him standing there with a smile. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

  I cringed and pulled my hand away, not wanting to be touched. He kept trying to get me to talk about shit I didn't want to talk about. I was about to kick the fucker in the nuts.

  Seeming to recognize his mistake, Andre took a step back from me. "Sorry. Um, will you come in here for a minute? I won't touch you." I nodded, following him. I was definitely averse to physical contact of any kind, and I was grateful my friends, for the most part, respected it.

  The list of things I couldn't do or wouldn't tolerate was growing every day, and I knew it wasn't good. Lance had tried to talk to me about it, but every time he brought shit up, I either walked away or hung up on him.

  He’d tried to get me to go with him to some support group, which I told him was just a club for whiners. I immediately felt bad after I said it because apparently, he attended it on a weekly basis. There was no fucking way I was going to sit around in some fucking Kumbaya circle and spill my guts. That was not the Colton J. Wixsom way.

  "What's up, Dupree?" I asked, looking at the shit on his bookcase to keep from looking into his eyes. He seemed to be able to see into my soul when he looked at me directly, so I avoided eye contact with him as much as possible.

  He walked over to his desk and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it to me. I opened it and saw a boarding pass with my name on it. Destination, LAX. The purchase date was shortly after Halloween, and I wondered what the fuck he was thinking.

  "What's this for?" I looked up to see a pink tinge on his gorgeous face, which was surprising because he was the cockiest son-of-a-bitch I'd ever met. Nothing embarrassed him…ever.

  "I don't want you staying here by yourself over the break, so I’d like it if you’d come home with me. My parents want to meet you as well. I talked to them a few weeks ago, and they're really excited for you to spend the holiday with us. They'll be very disappointed if you don't show." Oh, he thinks parental guilt will help him get his way? That’s kind of cute, bless his heart.

  "Well, God knows I hate to burst your bubble, but we all have to learn how to get over the disappointment. I gave in when you told me I needed to go to a doctor because my back got infected, and I had to endure lying to the woman and telling her it was a drunken prank gone wrong. If I didn't think it would have been a slow death, I'd have let it kill me.

  “I also did those fucking blood tests so I'll have advance warning if one of those fucks gave me some disease because you told me it was best to find out sooner rather than later. You've guilted me into enough shit for a good long time. So, thanks but no thanks. I hope this is refundable," I told him as I handed the paper back to him and turned to leave. I pulled the door open, but his hand s
lammed it closed.

  I turned to look at him, cocking an eyebrow. "Do you not remember that ass beatin' I gave you at the gym the other day?" reaching up to touch the fading bruise on his cheek.

  We worked out together. It was a way to keep my anxiety and panic under control, and when he'd suggested it, I said no at first. Unfortunately, he wouldn't take no for an answer and kept bugging me about it until I finally gave in to get him to shut the fuck up. Two days a week, we swam – me wearing a t-shirt in the pool – and two days a week we sparred. He was better at it than I thought, but I'd been putting on weight and building up muscle, and of late, I could hold my own. I got the better of him on Sunday afternoon.

  He smiled. "I do, and if you don't want me to reciprocate tomorrow morning at the pool, you'll pack your shit tonight and be on that plane with me tomorrow afternoon.

  "Look, it's depressing as fuck for you to stay on campus for the holiday, and a change of scenery will do you good. I cashed in some frequent flyer miles for your ticket, so if you don't go, it'll be a waste. My mom makes an amazing turkey, and we have a great pool and hot tub. I can show you around LA, and we can just chill for a few days without worrying about homework and school.

  "Please come. I really want you to meet my Mom and Père…uh, my dad…and they really want to meet you," he continued.

  "Dupree, the only reason to take someone home for a holiday to meet the parents is if you're more than friends with the person. We're not more than friends because neither of us is capable of being more than friends," I reminded. Me, for obvious reasons, and him, because he's a male whore with commitment issues.

  "That's not true because you took Lance with you to Unionville a few weeks ago for the memorial service. You two aren't more are you?" Well, he had me there, but Lance actually drove me so that was a special situation.

  "Lance drove me there. It wasn't because…fuck. Dre, don't worry about me. I'll be fine," I complained.

  He sat down on the bed and raked his hands through his messy hair. It was longer than usual because he was waiting until he got back to LA to go to his regular stylist. Not much about him gave off a gay vibe but his vanity regarding his appearance was definitely a tell.

  He looked up at me and his eyes were shining. It was almost as if he was about to…no, no way. "Andre, I appreciate your invitation. Fuck, I appreciate everything you and Lance have done to keep me from falling into the abyss that seems to hover just on the horizon, but I'm getting over that shit now, okay? Hell, I might be ready to start dating again," I lied.

  There was no fucking way I was ready to start dating. My dick got hard when I thought about Andre just like always, but if I even touched it to try to alleviate the pressure, the shit that ran through my head when I visualized certain things deflated my dick like a nail in a tire. I was guessing I'd never come again. That was part of the reason why I worked out so much. The sexual frustration was killing me.

  What I'd said about dating seemed to piss him off, and just as he was about to say something, he closed his mouth. After a few moments, he smiled slyly. "Okay, so you're ready to get out there again? What better place to get your feet wet than in LA? There are some great clubs there, and you can test the water without pressure because if it doesn't go well, you won't see the guy again. I'll call a couple of my friends, and we can go out on Saturday night. Bring your fake ID."

  I thought about the prospects of meeting a stranger or two, and while I knew I wouldn't hook up, maybe learning how to talk to a guy I was interested in wouldn't hurt. I mean, Andre would be there, and who else better to learn from than the master? "These friends…are they fuck buddies?" I wasn’t up for meeting more of his hookups. I'd had my share of meeting them as we walked around campus. I didn't need more reminders of his usual behavior.

  "Nope. They're a couple. Gianna's parents live down the street from mine, and I met them a few summers ago. There are no fuck buddies to ruin the weekend. I've gone out with Gia and Chelsea during the summers when I've been home, and they're a lot of fun. So? Bring your swimsuit. The pool's heated, and the weather is still pretty nice. I looked it up for the weekend, so we're good with sunshine and clear skies. My parents will both be working on Friday, so it will just be you and me at the house. We can get a little sun and drink fruity drinks with umbrellas. If you don't come, I'll be bored to shit," he continued with the guilt trip.

  I wanted to continue to refuse his invitation, but it really did sound like a lot of fun. It had been a long time since I'd really felt the warmth of the sun on my skin, and he'd seen my back so that wasn't the issue, really. And if I was being honest, staying in the dorms with most of the campus empty both terrified and depressed me.

  I sighed and walked over to the bed, sitting down next to him. I leaned forward and kissed his cheek for his thoughtfulness, and I pulled away to look at him. "Thank you, Dre. I sounded like an ungrateful bitch, and I apologize. I'd love to go. What time do we leave?"

  He handed the paper back to me and smiled. "I'll pick you up at the dorm at ten. I'm glad you're coming." He reached over and gently squeezed my hand, releasing it quickly.

  Just then, Lance stuck his head in and looked at the two of us. I guess he didn't knock because he knew there was no way anything was going on. That was really sad, considering how fucking hot Andre was, even with his too-long hair.

  "You girls coming? We'd like the opportunity to win back our money, you know," Lance snarked. We both laughed and followed him down the hall. Andre wasn't touching me, but he was walking very close to me. He knew I couldn't stand anyone behind me, and he respected it. The brushes of our hands against each other as we walked down the hallway sent sparks over my skin that were definitely pleasing. I just wished I was capable of more.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Life in the ‘Wood

  We were in first-fucking-class on the flight from SEA-TAC to LAX, and I swore, I'd never seen anything like it in my life. The seats were leather, not shitty cloth, and they reclined like a nice Lazy Boy. I felt like a kid in a candy store when the flight attendant gave us champagne while the coach passengers boarded. It was set to be two hours, more or less, of pure bliss.

  "So, what do your parents do?" I asked as I settled into my seat and slipped off my flip flops. Andre told me most days were sunny and seventy, so I was embracing the California beach bum buried deep inside me and had brought mostly summer-like clothes. Andre told me he'd take me to the beach so I could see him surf, and I was looking forward to it.

  The night before, I'd dreamed of him in a wet suit, and for the first time since…I woke up with a wet mess in my pajama pants. I would have been embarrassed under any other circumstances, but I was actually thrilled and quite relieved. Maybe my cock was going to start working again?

  He turned to me and rested his chin on his hand, elbow propped on the armrest of his fancy seat. "Dad's a doctor at Cedar-Sinai. He moved to the States from Paris when he was sixteen. He doesn’t have so much of an accent anymore, but sometimes he starts speaking French without thinking about it. Mom's just…well, she's Mom."

  I laughed. "Does she work outside the home?"

  "She, uh, she doesn’t work at a place for the money. She does a lot of volunteer and charity shit. She's gearing up for some big Christmas thing for the…hell, I’m not sure what, but the planning is in place so there's nothing to do until after Thanksgiving."

  I nodded and then remembered something. "Oh, you said she and your dad were working on Friday. I just assumed she worked somewhere," I responded as the plane began pushing back from the gate.

  "She told me she'd be gone and we'd have to fend for ourselves. She didn't exactly tell me what she had to do. She works in my Père's office a few days a week during the summer and holiday seasons, so I guess she's there on Friday so other people can take time off. I don't really know.

  "It's pretty fucking funny that Damon and Nick's families have Thanksgiving together, isn't it? His description of the menu sounded like nothing I'd ever
heard," Andre replied, changing the subject. We'd given Nick a ride to the airport, and we'd all grabbed breakfast before we went off to our separate flights.

  I asked Nick what Thanksgiving looked like for them, and he began telling us about some of the dishes. The yam and sausage stuffed fried dumplings sounded intriguing. When he gave us the news his older sister was recently engaged to a Hispanic guy and his family would be joining them for dinner, I actually laughed. Talk about a true melting pot.

  "Nick says Mama Jennings's collard greens are his favorite dish next to his mother's hoisin-glazed turkey. I tell ya, if they ever invite us up for a visit, I definitely want to get that group together. Talk about a trip around the culinary world," I joked.

  I looked at him and he looked a little surprised. "Yeah…yeah, we should definitely do that. I'd love to see their desserts. I, uh, I'm not really good with take-off. Would you mind…I mean, would you please hold my hand?" he asked. He looked worried and I was surprised, but as we taxied toward the runway, I reached over and took his hand, pulling it onto my thigh and holding it between both of my hands. It was nice to be able to comfort him. God knew he'd tried to comfort me on more than one occasion. I had a lot of no-go zones, so it wasn't exactly easy for him but he was kind enough to try.

  After Lance told Andre what had happened to me, I could no longer trust him though I was trying to get over it. Unfortunately, Lance touching me was still out of the question. The first time he tried to hug me after we got back to school from my father's memorial service, I threatened to hit him. He hadn't tried again.

  "Thanks, Colton." I turned to see Andre close his eyes and lean his head back against the headrest. I looked out the window and mindlessly caressed his hand with my left index finger as I twined our fingers together, happy to have some physical contact with someone…well, especially with Andre. With him sleeping, I felt I could trace the veins on the top of his hand with my finger without worry. I'd missed the physical contact, and it felt good to finally touch someone.