Swim Coach: A Novel

by Sam E. Kraemer

  "There you are. Let's get you off the bricks," Jean-Luc stated quietly as he helped me to my feet. I was embarrassed because I needed the help to get to a chair, but I wouldn't have made it alone.

  "Colton, are you okay?" Leslie asked as she stood next to the chair in which her husband had situated me. She brushed my hair off my face, and her gentle smile put me at ease immediately.

  I coughed again, but it was more of a stalling tactic as I took inventory of myself to try to remember why I was in that place at that moment in time. I felt fine. I'd swallowed some pool water, but I was fine. I turned to see Andre sitting on the pool deck with a white towel under his nose, and I saw the red that had leached into the fibrous loops. His nose was bleeding, and I knew I'd hurt him. God, when will this shit stop?

  "I'm fine. Dre, are you okay?" I asked. He was keeping his distance, and I couldn't blame him. I was a violent person, and I'd physically hurt him more than once. I didn't…he shouldn't be around me for that very reason.

  "I'm fine, love. I caught an elbow before you passed out, but I damn well deserved it. I'm fine," he responded.

  I looked at his mother and gulped. "You should tell your son I'm no good for him. I'm more messed up than anyone you've ever met, and he's so kind and he tries…" I began sobbing. She wrapped her arms around my head and held me, rocking me as a mother was one to do, providing a protective embrace.

  "Andre, son, qu'est-ce qui se passe ici? I mean what's going on here?" I heard his father ask.

  "Colton has some problems with physical contact when he isn’t ready for it, and I know that. I just forgot. I got caught up in a moment, and I forgot. I'm fine, Père."

  I pulled away from Andre's mother and looked into her eyes. She had the eyes of a mother, and God, I loved her son so much. The problem was…would probably always be that I was so fucked up I knew he couldn't love me back. Who would love me? I was damaged.

  "Mrs. Dupree, I'm not good for him, and you need to tell him to stay away from me. I'm…he deserves so much better than me."

  "Colton, no, don't say that," I heard Andre begging.

  She held my face in her hands and smiled through her tears. "My dear, dear boy. What happened to you?"

  I continued to cry, but I knew I owed them the truth. If I told them, they’d keep Andre away. It was for his own good, so I finally said it out loud. "I was raped in my dorm room at school. There were two of them, and they did this," I snapped as I turned my back to her and ripped off my t-shirt, showing her the never-ending, hellish reminder of that night.

  She wrapped her arms around me and held me to her chest. "Oh, honey. You're not…It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong." She held me and rocked me, and I cried about it again even after I’d promised myself I wouldn’t give them another tear.

  I cried as much as I'd cried with Lance when he'd found me the morning after it happened. I heard more crying and looked down to see Andre's head in my lap. I ran my fingers through the back of his hair in an attempt to comfort him because he'd never given me any indication he was so upset about what had happened to me.

  He'd only tried to support me, and fuck, he'd been there even when I tried to push him away. He knew the awful truth of it all, but he didn't disappear on me or run away. That was a fucking miracle.

  I had no idea how long Leslie held me in her arms and cried with me, not letting go. Andre didn't move either, and I cried myself out, yet again. I hadn't cried like that in a few weeks, but it felt good. When the tears stopped, I felt a kiss on the back of my head as slender arms released me.

  Andre was looking at me, and I felt so fucking guilty at seeing his nose swollen and bloody. "Babe, I'm so sorry. I…I'm sorry." That was all I had to offer. I didn't need to tell him it wasn't intentional, but it was apparent to me I was becoming an abusive person and I didn't like it. My father wasn't that guy, and he'd have been ashamed of me. I needed fucking help or I'd just throw myself off a fucking bridge. That was the long and short of it, really.

  "I'm going to touch you," he whispered after his mother moved away. I nodded.

  He knelt in front of me and stroked my face. "Colton, I knew better than to do what I did. I know you can't stand for anyone to come up behind you, but we were having fun and I forgot. It's not your fault, love. I knew better."

  I leaned forward and took the towel from his face, seeing the remnants of my outburst. "Let's get some ice on this." I took his hand and helped him up, leading him inside. I sat him down on a stool at his mother's kitchen island, and I found a clean towel, wrapping it around an ice pack I found in the freezer.

  I handed it to him and gulped. "Is it broken?" I asked. I'd broken Lance's nose once, and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself anymore. I didn't want to be a violent person. I hadn't been raised that way. I didn't want to be that guy.

  "Nothing more than I've had in the past," he commented, trying to downplay what I'd done to him. God, I loved him so much. You don't hurt people you love, dumbass.

  Just then, I heard the door open and close. I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, and I quickly turned to see Les. "Andre, let your Père check that. I want to talk with Colton."

  "Mom, it was an accident. I knew better…"

  "OUT!" she ordered. He left without another word, and I chuckled a bit. She certainly had a way about her.

  She turned me in the chair and leveled a stern look at me that had me welded in place. "I guess we were never formally introduced. I'm Dr. Leslie Kelly-Dupree. I'm a licensed psychiatrist, specializing in sexual abuse and domestic violence. After what I learned out there, you and my colleague, Eve Brownley who is a therapist I know well, are about to become very good friends, Colton Wixsom."

  Oh, hell.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sessions

  "Why didn't you tell me your mother was a shrink who dealt with nutcases like me?" I asked Andre after I finished speaking with his mother. He was on the pool deck with the hose, cleaning up the blood from his nose. He had a bandage over the bridge of it, and his eyes were starting to blacken. I hated myself for it.

  He stopped and turned to me. "I, uh, I didn't say anything because I was afraid you wouldn't come, and if by some miracle I got you to come with me, I wanted you to get to know my parents just as my parents. I didn't want you to be self-conscious around them. Are you okay?" He dropped the hose and walked over to where I stood with my hands on my hips, thinking about the conversation I'd just had with his mother.

  "How long ago did the attack take place?" Dr. Dupree asked.

  I looked down at the countertop and began playing with my fingers nervously. "Um, Halloween night. I came back to my dorm room after being out with a friend, and they jumped me when I opened the door." I really didn't want to recount to the woman everything that had happened. I prayed she didn't ask for details.

  "That recent? Do the authorities know who did it? How did they handle it when you reported it?" she asked. I wasn't looking forward to answering that question.

  "I, uh, I didn't report it. I wasn't going to tell anybody it had happened, but Lance showed up at my dorm to go with me to Unionville the next morning, and he figured it out pretty quickly. He ended up telling Andre about it, but other than the two of them, you and Dr. Dupree are the only other people who know."

  She reached forward and touched my hand. "Sweetheart, the boys who did this to you know, and as much as I understand the fact you want to keep this to yourself, if they did it once, they might do it again to another unsuspecting boy or girl. Do you have any idea who did it? You could still report it."

  The idea of talking to the cops about it made me want to puke right there on her beautiful black granite countertops. I certainly didn't want anyone to go through what I went through, but I didn't think I was strong enough to trek through the hell of an investigation. Shit, as far as I could tell, there wasn't any evidence to support my accusations, and I sure as hell didn't want it to be all over the news as a hate crime.

  It
was then I remembered Andre's plan to provoke someone to try to attack him. The idea they could do something to him sickened me. "Look, Mrs.…Dr…uh, ma'am…" I was stammering again, dammit.

  "Colton, please call me Les."

  I nodded and continued. "Miss Les, you need to talk to Dre and tell him to stay away from me. He seems to think he knows who did it and he's got some hair-brained idea to try to get them to attack him. He needs to stay away from me because I am seven-kinds of wrong for him. You need to straighten him out before he does something stupid and gets himself killed or arrested."

  She seemed surprised for a second, but then her face calmed. "I'll talk with him later, but I want you to tell me in three words how you feel about what happened to you."

  I thought about it for a minute and felt my blood boil. "I'm fucking pissed," I stated harshly as I counted off the words on my fingers.

  She smiled. "Okay, I should have been a bit more precise. Pissed is one word. Give me two more."

  I chuckled when I figured out what she wanted. "Okay, um, humiliated. Stupid. Weak. Damaged."

  "Why do you feel humiliated?"

  "Because I was too weak to fight back. They jumped me when I walked in the room and put something over my head before they tied me to my bed and held me down. They both did it to me, more than once I think. I blacked out. If I wasn't so weak I'd have been able to beat the hell out of both of them, but I'm taking care of that now," I informed her.

  "But, Colton, they blindsided you. If there were two of them, dear, your chances of being able to fight off both attackers, unless you were armed, were substantially diminished. You were targeted. The odds of you being able to overpower both of them by yourself weren't in your favor. Were you…some people, in that position, are paralyzed with fear and aren't even able to cry out. It doesn't mean they weren't trying to stop the attack, but the body's reaction to danger is different in every situation."

  I looked down. "I'd have tried to yell, but they put duct tape over my mouth before they blindfolded me. The only proof I have that I know who did it is my roommate's ruined bedding and that piece of duct tape. I feel fucking sick for keeping it, but for some reason when I took the stuff to my mother's house to try to wash it, I couldn't look at it again. I hid it in my closet at her house.

  "I bought my roommate a new set of stuff for his bed. I lied to him and told him I'd spilled something on it and couldn't get it out, and he never asked me anything more about it." Dr. Dupree reached into a drawer and pulled out a box of tissues, and that's when I realized I was crying, yet a-fucking-gain. It was pretty funny how that shit snuck up on me…well, not much.

  "If you decide you want to go forward with the authorities, Colton, you have evidence in that laundry bag. You would need to file a complaint, naming who you believe your attackers to be, and then provide the things to the police and let them do their job. I know you're hesitant but think about it.

  "Look, I want you to have a good time here, but I also want you to consider a few things. I won't hammer on you about this while you're here, but I'm going to refer you to my friend, Eve. She’s not a doctor, but she works with survivors of domestic violence and sexual abuse. I’m going to have her call you here after dinner so you can set up a schedule for when you’re available…" she began.

  I shook my head 'no'. I wasn't telling another stranger what happened.

  "I understand how difficult it sounds to discuss this situation with a stranger, but Eve is a professional and won’t form any judgments. You can speak with her on the phone while you’re at school unless you want me to locate someone in the area for you to meet face-to-face. I’m afraid I won’t take no for an answer, Colton."

  She walked closer to where I was sitting and touched my forearm. I looked at her and saw nothing but concern and sincerity. There was no pity and I was relieved. "You need to deal with this before it overwhelms you. I can see my son cares very much for you, and I truly understand the emotions you're dealing with, but you lashing out and becoming physically violent with him isn't healthy. I can only separate myself so much, but at the end of the day, I'm his mother and I don't want him to become a victim of abuse as well.

  "I want you to know you can speak with me about anything, but I want you to talk with Eve. She won’t tell anyone the things you discuss with her, but if you ever want to talk about anything with me, I'll do the best I can to remain objective. Will you be okay with that?"

  I saw her dilemma, so I nodded. "I'll try it, Miss Les." I then went to the bathroom and rinsed my face, going in search of Andre. I wasn’t sure if her plan would work, but I had to start somewhere.

  "I don't know if okay is the right word, but I'm feeling a little more in control. How's your nose?" I reached up and gently touched his cheek. He winced a bit, and the guilt flooded me.

  "Honestly, I'm fine. It looks a lot worse than it is. I knew better than to do what I did, and I forgot because we were just having so much fun. I'm sorry it happened, and I'll try…" he started.

  "Andre, you shouldn't be with a guy with whom you always have to be on guard. You shouldn't have to constantly remember I can't handle being approached from behind. Fuck, I'm afraid if you ever walked up behind me and put your hands over my eyes like Chip did that day at Roxy's, I'd end up beating you to death before I snapped out of the haze. I should get a flight back tonight. I don't want to ruin your holiday, though, I think that fucking ship has sailed."

  "I'm going to touch you." He reached up and put his fingers under my chin to make me look at him.

  "If you go home, you'll make my holiday much worse than any broken nose. You might as well get used to the idea you're not going to get rid of me. The only thing you're guilty of is showing me how much I want a relationship with you. You might not believe it, but I'll spend every day showing you until it finally sinks into that gorgeous, thick skull of yours." He slowly leaned forward and kissed me gently, which was incredible. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled his body closer, so thankful for the contact.

  His arms hung loosely at his sides, likely because he wasn't sure what to do with them, so I took his hands and placed them on my chest. I felt my heart pounding, but I wasn't going to stop. I had to get over it. I had to get past the feeling of impending doom at physical contact because I didn't want to feel that way. I wanted to be happy, and I wanted to feel like there was someone in my life with whom I could be affectionate and have fun. I just wanted to be free from all the demons. I wanted to be normal again.

  "Guys, pizza's here!" we heard shouted from the house. It was Andre's father and I couldn't turn around to look at him. My face was on fire with embarrassment at being caught kissing his son. Andre, however, was laughing.

  "We'll be right there, Père," he called back between the fits of laughter.

  He stepped away and picked up the hose, coiling it to place it into the basket. I looked down to see the now pristine brick and I wished it was as easy to wash away the feelings I had of being inadequate to have a man like Andre in my life. If only…

  "So, have you ever had a boy in your room?" I asked as I walked around Andre's room at his parents' house taking in everything.

  We'd eaten pizza with his parents, and we'd helped his mom with the prep for stuff for the feast the next day. They'd been very welcoming and kind, not mentioning my freak-out or my impromptu therapy session with his mother. We'd had a few beers as we chopped vegetables for the stuffing while Jean-Luc, as I was told to call him, regaled me with embarrassing stories from Andre's teenage exploits. I'd laughed more than I had in a long time.

  "No, I haven't. I can honestly say you're the first boy I've ever had in my room," Andre responded as he looked for a movie he wanted to watch.

  I laughed. "Now, I wouldn't go that far. I'm fairly certain you've had a lot of boys in your room at your apartment. I'd guess that room has seen its fair share of action," I teased.

  I turned to look at him and saw he seemed to be upset. I shouldn't have said it because e
ven though it was true, he’d told me he was trying to change. The basket of shit I needed to let go of was growing by leaps and bounds.

  I walked over to him and put my hand on his back, turning him to look at me. "I'm sorry. That was a bitchy thing to say. I'm not making an issue of it, okay? We have pasts, and you seem to be able to accept mine. I owe you the same courtesy."

  "No, you're right. I'm actually thinking about taking Heidi's vacant room. It's a little bigger than mine but it has an en suite. If Lance and I decide to get a third roommate, they can have the pressure of having to keep the fucking hall bathroom clean since it's the guest john. I'll need some help swapping out her shit for mine because her parents haven't asked for it yet. I'll be calling on my friends for that help," he stated, looking at me with a smirk.

  I wanted to comment on how long that line would be if his conquests were among that number, but considering I'd already insulted him not thirty seconds prior, I held my tongue. "Oh, did I ever tell you my rule on helping friends move? I don't," I joked.

  He laughed and held up his hands, showing them to me before he placed them on my shoulders, gently caressing my neck. "You helped Nick move. Do I not rate as high on your list of friends that you'd decline helping me move?"

  I settled my hands on his hips, feeling more at ease with touching him than I had earlier. I guess practice makes perfect. I sighed dramatically. "If I help you move not just one, but two rooms, what's in it for me?" I was teasing him, and I was happy to see the crooked smile on his face.

  "Well, let's see. I believe pizza and beer are obvious. Um, you can do laundry at my place as much as you need. I can even make up a little coupon book of things I'll do for you in the future when, uh, if you ever… Fuck, that's not awkward at all." The pink on his cheeks was too adorable to resist, so I didn't.

  I leaned forward and captured his soft lips with mine, pulling his body closer to me until we were touching from lips to hips. I only tensed for a moment, but his thumbs brushing over my cheeks as our tongues tangled together, first in his mouth then in mine, calming me immediately. His kiss wasn't aggressive, but both of our breathing became labored.