Page 1 of Dickathlon

1

Tyler

A month after the Brisbane Olympics

SAN JOSE

“Why do you keep fidgeting with your phone?”

“I’m not fidgeting.”

“You’re fidgeting, Ty.”

“So what if I am, Quinn?”

My best girl friend rolled her eyes at me from across the table. “Not gonna lie. Insecurity makes you better looking.”

“Funny you should say that. I’m actually deciding whether or not to text someone.”

“Someone?” she asked.

She wasn’t just cute. She was smart too. Sometimes annoyingly so. But she was my best friend and it was about time I told her about my recent sexual epiphany.

“So…remember the Olympics?”

“How could I forget, doof. That time you went to Australia and won two bronze medals? It was last month.”

I ignored her and tried to think of how to explain it.

“Did you finally hook up with Luke?”

“What?! No!” I heard how much shriek was in my voice, so I took a breath before replying. “Why would you ask me that?”

She shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. You’re obviously thinking about texting a guy, otherwise you would’ve said ‘chick’ earlier. He’s been your bro for years. He’s gay. He’s hot.” I watched her count on her fingers. “It’s not much of a stretch to think something happened, especially at the Olympics. Everyone’s heard about all the condoms.”

“Well, you’re close, but it didn’t go as far as hooking up, and it wasn’t Luke. His name’s Declan Moore.”

“Oooh, Declan. Sounds like a hunky firefighter who just pulled me out of my burning apartment. Oh no. Where did my top go? It was burned off in the fire but, luckily, my brawny rescuer is taking his shirt off to wrap around my shivering-”

“He’s a decathlete, Quinn. But points for creativity.”

She smiled, then brought her fingertips together in front of her chin. “And how did you come upon this gentleman’s phone number?”

After I told her we met in the Olympic village, Quinn begged me for the entire story, so I explained all of it. Not that there was much. He recognized me in the cafeteria and then I couldn’t form a coherent sentence, and then I caught him in my arms by the pool and after a brief, slightly less stuttery conversation, he gave me his number.

“And you haven’t texted him yet? It’s been what? Like a month?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“God, men are such…men sometimes. Start with hello. Go from there.”

Tyler: Hi.

“What did you just text?”

“I texted hello. Well, hi.”

“That’s it?”