Squad Goals: Hot by Halloween

by M. F. Lorson

  Popping in my ear buds, I found an empty seat at the farthest booth near the window, hoping no one decided to sit at the table with me. Most students had already formed cliques and were gathering in them naturally as the student body filled the room. I never knew a high school could be so small that the entire campus had their lunch at the same time.

  Flipping on something with a heavy beat, I zoned out into the music and opened my laptop to the half-finished scholarship application. It was the third one this week, but I wasn’t leaving any stone unturned at this point. I would take whatever I could get.

  I was almost to the short answer portions when I noticed someone knocking on the table to get my attention. My chest heaved a heavy sigh as I pulled a bud out and looked up to see one of the guys I recognized from yesterday’s try-outs standing next to me.

  “Hey, man. Me and the guys wanted to invite you to sit with us.” He nodded his head toward the group of students looking over at me from a long, cafeteria table at the front of the room. The swim team captain was there, but his attention was invested in the blonde hanging on his shoulder.

  “I’m good,” I answered. “Thanks, though.” When I moved to put my ear bud back in, he interrupted me.

  “Come on, man. We’re gonna be on the same team. We might as well get to know each other.”

  I had a feeling he was going to be persistent. I didn’t want to be a straight jerk, so I took another long sigh and snapped my laptop shut. “Alright.” Lunch was only thirty minutes so I guess I could try to be nice enough and at least drop in to introduce myself. My dad always stressed the importance of being a team player...but then again, he didn’t turn out to be much of a team player himself.

  Crossing through the cafeteria, I noticed three girls sitting together and recognized the one in the middle. It was the girl from yesterday’s try-outs, the one who nearly drowned. I must have been too distracted by her so-called swimming to notice how pretty she was. I took her for some clumsy mess, but with her neatly curled brown hair and red lipstick, I had to say, she cleaned up nicely. Too bad my chances of dating her would be pretty slim when I got her kicked off the team.

  The guys at the table were in the middle of an enthusiastic conversation as I approached, but they managed to hush pretty quickly, almost like they didn’t want me to hear it. They all greeted me, but I didn’t catch any of their names. As I sat, I made sure to leave my legs off to the side, ready to make a quick exit if I needed to.

  “So, how do you like Minnesota so far?” one of the guys sitting across me said. I already forgot his name, but he seemed like the calmest of the crowd so far.

  “Not bad,” I answered. “I’ve only been here a couple of weeks.”

  “Must be a big change from California.” He gave me a comforting smile, and I replied with a head nod. I liked this guy already. He wasn’t obnoxious, which wasn’t always easy to find around high school teammates. With his dark skin, Buddy Holly glasses and neatly pressed school uniform, he stuck out a great deal in this crowd.

  “Yeah good luck surfing around here,” the guy sitting next to me added with a laugh.

  I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. “I’m not much of a surfer,” I answered flatly.

  “What? I thought all you California guys were surfers!” The table rumbled with laughter as another guy added in an exaggerated, “as if.”

  It was pretty clear I was the butt of the joke here, so I quickly stood to make my exit. “Come on.” Someone patted my shoulder, but the contact immediately had me feeling defensive, so I spun around and realized I was standing face-to-face with the black-haired team captain.

  “Hey man, we’re just joking with you. You don’t have jokes in California?” He had his hands up like I was going to punch him or something.

  I could tell he was being genuine, but I was too irritated to deal with it at the moment.

  “It’s fine. I’m just gonna go get a head start on my homework,” I lied.

  “I know you were team captain at your old school,” he said, which was really unexpected. The guys at the table weren’t listening, except for the one decent guy sitting across from where I was.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So, I’m the team captain here.” I kept my eyes on him, waiting to see how aggressive he was being. I really didn’t want drama, but I wasn’t going to roll over when some guy started dealing threats. “I don’t want there to be any competition between us,” he finished, and I let out a long breath.

  “Thanks. But I just want to swim and get into a good college.” Which was mostly true. I wasn’t gunning for the captain spot...unless, of course, he sucked at being captain. Then I would gladly knock him down a peg or two.

  Addy

  “So, here I am. Going about my business, just trying to lead my best life, when a little birdie informs me that you’ve joined the swim team.”

  I rolled my eyes and squeezed closer to Nora and Lucy, making room for my brother. It usually took at least three weeks for Max to start slumming and sit with his sister. Day one was a bad sign for him.

  “Don’t you have someone else to sit with?” I asked. “You know like...your girlfriend?”

  Max’s jaw tightened. “Sensitive subject.”

  I looked across the lunchroom to where Nicky sat giggling with her junior friends. She looked awfully good after a summer spent in the Bronx. Apparently stepping it up a notch meant she was too good for my brother now. If I had known, I wouldn’t have said anything, but then again the tag along routine was getting old. Having a brother so close in age might have been cool, say if he were older than me and had hot friends. Instead, I had the hot friends, and he got to be the one punching above his weight.

  I really didn’t feel like getting into the nitty gritty of my Hot by Halloween plan with Max. So, I made an effort to steer the conversation away from swimming.

  “We can be sad and single together,” I said, nodding my head toward Mitch, who sat three tables over, his arm slung around Cassie’s shoulder. They were sharing a slice of pie while I was stuck with a salad that tasted like nothing.

  “Sure,” said Max, pushing his mashed potatoes around with a fork. “Bring on the High Fidelity and other depressing break-up media.”

  “I’ll have my Mom make brownies,” said Nora, slightly too enthusiastically.

  A pity party with my brother didn’t sound like as much fun as those two were making it out to be. And yet, I still had to figure out what to do with all my new Mitch-free time.

  “Sounds good,” I said with a shrug—which I immediately regretted as the dull ache in my shoulders intensified times five. I winced in pain, reaching up to rub the tender spot between my neck and collar bone. I had no idea how out of shape I was until this morning when I thought my arms would fall off, just trying to pull my shirt over my head.

  “Are you alright?” asked Nora, reading my pained expression.

  “Just sore,” I grumbled, struggling to tear the lid from my low calorie, low flavor fruit cup. “Who knew swimming was so exhausting?”

  “Everyone,” laughed Max. “If you’re so hung up on a distraction, why don’t you pick something easier? Chess Club or Band,” he said with a mischievous grin and a glance toward Nora.

  Lucy nudged me gently under the table. We both knew exactly where this was going.

  “Hey!” cried Nora, taking the bait. “Band isn’t easy. You can’t just learn to play an instrument overnight!”

  “And they’re off,” whispered Lucy.

  We had heard this debate at least a hundred times. The thing was, Max didn’t give a rats butt about band, he just liked to rile Nora up. Normally, Max flirting with Nora would annoy me, but at the moment, I was grateful for the distraction. It wouldn’t take Max long to figure out swim team was part of my squad goal, and once that happened it would be non-stop teasing.

  I was laughing at something Lucy said, when I spotted Gray making his way across the cafeteria.

  He looked equally as good
in clothing as he did without them, I thought, feeling a blush rise in my cheeks. His pants were all the right kinds of snug. Across the table, Max raised an eyebrow at me. My brother and I were a full thirteen months apart, but sometimes it felt like we were twins. Especially when he did that creepy mind reading thing he was doing right now.

  “You know a rebound is a bad idea,” he said, narrowing his eyes in his best impression of our father. I brushed off the comment. He had no right to advise me on what to do after a breakup. How many girlfriends had he gone through in the last two years? Four? Six? I was losing count. Every relationship he had was a rebound.

  It wasn’t like that for me and Mitch. We had been together for two full years. That’s two years of high school spent pining after the same person. A little eye candy wasn’t going to hurt me. Besides, it wasn’t like I was going to make a play for Gray. I just liked to look at him. Who wouldn’t? What with his perfectly coiffed hair and slightly crooked nose, he looked like one of those Disney Channel child stars all grown up. The boy was practically airbrushed.

  I tried to keep my mouth from gaping as I watched him follow Nolan across the cafeteria. He had a laptop tucked under his arm and a half eaten apple in his hand.

  “Do you think he knows he is walking into the lion’s den right now?” asked Max, following my eyes. “Or is he really naïve enough to think those guys genuinely want to welcome him to the team?”

  “Beats me,” I said, catching his eye as he passed. I was pretty sure I caught a spark of recognition in his face. He probably recognized me from the pool, much to my disappointment. I looked decent in a swimsuit, but my performance in the water wasn’t exactly the impression I wanted to make on the hot new guy.

  “He looks like he needs a friend,” teased Nora. “Maybe you can lead him in the right direction.”

  I smiled. A love interest was not part of my plan, but nothing made a girl look more attractive to an ex, than seeing her with someone else.

  Chapter Three

  Gray

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” my mom ranted as she ran down the driveway in her purple scrubs and blinding white sneakers. She was already flying out the front door just as I pulled up to the curb. I wasn’t used to having to drive my mom to work between school and practice, but we were down to one car now, and we would have to make it work.

  “It’s fine, Mom. Don’t apologize.” She tossed her backpack in the back as she jumped into the passenger seat.

  “It’s not fine,” she answered. “This is your first practice, and I know how much you hate being late! We’ll get a second car soon enough.”

  As I pulled away from the curb, I couldn’t help but laugh. She was scarfing down a frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwich while fixing her hair in the visor’s mirror. And trying to apologize at the same time.

  “They can deal with it. It’s not like they’re going to kick me off the team,” I said with a smug smile.

  “Don’t be so pompous, Gray. It’s not a good look on you.” She sent me a tense mom look, but she couldn’t look mean if she tried. She clearly had no idea what my competition—or lack of—looked like around here. She’d see it soon enough.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I answered.

  For the next few minutes we didn’t talk, just simultaneously bobbed our heads to the radio as we made our way to the hospital. It was only a fifteen minute drive, but about halfway there, I could feel my mom watching me. Her expression settled somewhere between pride and guilt. Maybe because I was stepping up and had shoes to fill, or maybe because I wasn’t letting dad’s absence ruin me like she thought it would.

  This was a new look for my mom, and it was an expression that showed just how much was on her shoulders.

  That look made me hate my dad even more than I already did.

  As I pulled up to the ER entrance, she leaned over and planted a quick kiss on the side of my head. Something I suspected she needed more than I did. And it’s not like I was going to deny her her motherly indulgences.

  “I get off at 3:00 a.m., but I’ll take an Uber,” she said as she opened the door.

  “Mom,” I answered in a scolding tone. “No way.”

  “Gray, you have school. You’re not driving to the hospital in the middle of the night.” It was funny how she tried to tell me what to do sometimes. She grabbed her backpack and thought she could just walk away.

  Biting back a smirk, I rolled down the window and yelled, “See you at three! I’ll bring tacos.”

  Without turning back, she just shook her head as she disappeared through the large automatic doors. These roles were new for us: her trying to tell me what to do and me totally ignoring it. I hated the term “man of the house,” but I wasn’t going to let my mom think that she was the only one who had to carry this weight.

  When I pulled into the school parking lot, I looked down at my watch and realized it was 4:38. I was over half an hour late. It would have been a good idea to let the coach know ahead of time, but it was a little late for that now.

  After grabbing my duffel from the trunk, I sprinted into the gym and into the locker room to change. I was already so anxious to get into the water and quiet all the thoughts in my head: the worry about my mom, the fear about the future, the guilt over being so late. Once I could jump in and waste all my energy on getting across that pool, I knew I’d feel a hundred times better.

  “You’re late,” Griffith shouted as I jogged in. There were two or three people paired together at the top of each lane.

  “Sorry, coach.” I quickly doused myself under the shower head in the corner of the room. When I approached him, I almost started to explain why I was so late, but there were too many students hovering around in ear’s reach.

  “I’ve paired you up with two of our newer swimmers on lane three. Give them some pointers on freestyle, and in about five minutes, I’ll have you each swim a lap. You go first to show them the form, but watch them for technique. Got it?”

  “Yes, coach.” He was clearly annoyed with me, and I made a mental note to talk to him after practice. If I needed a good reference for my scholarships, I wanted Griffith on my side.

  I pulled my goggles into place as I walked down to lane three. I was going over the coach’s instructions in my head so I was distracted as I stopped in front of the starting block. The two swimmers were already in the water, floating in mid-conversation.

  “Alright, losers. Listen up—”

  I froze in place as their two faces turned and looked up at me with wide eyes. I didn’t know why I figured the coach would have assigned the boys to swim with the boys, but I guess I forgot that they don’t do things the way I was used to around here. My regular male-teammate banter just mortified the two girls in the water.

  Great. I just called the girl I was trying to get kicked off the team a loser.

  Addy

  Based on the look of absolute mortification on Gray’s face, Amy and I were not who he

  expected to find in his lane. I accepted his mumbled apology as I climbed the ladder out of the pool, but his hotness was greatly reduced by the fact that his first words to me had been, ‘hey loser’. In all fairness, I probably wouldn’t have been thrilled to be assigned the two weakest swimmers either.

  And boy was it clear Amy and I were the worst. She had the excuse of being a freshman trying a new thing. My excuse? I had yet to come up with it.

  “Alright,” said Gray, quickly recovering “Coach asked me to work with you on freestyle. I’ll do a lap first and then you show me yours.”

  I bit my tongue as Gray dove off of the starting block and into the water. Nora would have been so proud of me for not making a sexual predator joke there. Gray was across the pool and back in what felt like seconds. There was no chance of my getting that good. But, I held out a little hope that working with him would get me closer to the middle of the pack.

  He pulled the goggles off his head and rested his arms on the lip of the pool.

  “Now
that you have had a chance to study my form, I want you to try freestyle.”

  I nodded. I had been studying his form alright, but I didn’t see how that was going to help me in the pool.

  “I’ll go first.” I offered, positioning myself to dive in. “Freestyle is my favorite stroke.”

  “Really?” asked Gray, skepticism coloring his features.

  “Sure,” I replied. “Seeing as how I don’t know any of the others.”

  And with that I dove into the pool. This time I remembered to keep my head down and avoided repeating the painfully awkward belly flop from tryouts. I didn’t cut through the water the way Gray had, and I definitely wasn’t going to be winning any time trials, but when my hands hit the wall to finish, I was pleasantly surprised to find the lap over so quickly. I credited YouTube for pointing out that contrary to my previous belief, swimming fast had no correlation to making the biggest splash.

  Feeling pretty good about myself I grabbed a towel from the bleachers and wrapped it around my waist to watch Amy.

  The feeling was short lived however, because Gray was looking at me like I’d just stomped on his cell phone.

  “What?” I asked. I knew I wasn’t good or anything, but, come on, I wasn’t bad enough to warrant that expression.

  “What the hell was that?”

  “Swimming?” I answered, unsure where this was going.

  Gray reached up to run his hand through his wet hair. “Yes, but—”

  “Yes but what?” I asked, feeling my defenses rising.

  “That...that was not freestyle.” The exasperation in his voice rang loud and clear.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “It’s free style...as in...my own style.”

  Gray’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t possibly think that freestyle means you just make it up?!”