Page 17 of Swim Crush

I was looking at the pool, but with my peripheral vision, I could tell he was smiling. And staring. At me.

“I don’t do this often, Mike, but would-”

“Hey Mike,” Hayden said, popping up out of nowhere, “Coach wants to see you.”

Thank God.

“Ten-four,” I replied before shooting Tom a smile. “Nice to meet you, Tom. Good luck with the rest of the meet.”

I left Tom with Danny and Hayden. He was cute, but despite Danny’s coaxing, I was not about to go on a date with someone in high school. Even if they were taller than me.

I quick-stepped over to Coach. He was busy chatting with a few older gentlemen, presumably, the other coaches. Standing slightly off to the side, it seemed I wasn’t as noticeable as I thought.

“What is it, Mr. Ramsey?”

I was caught by surprise, but managed to explain that Hayden sent me over.

“Did he now? I can’t imagine why.”

“So, you didn’t need to see me?”

“If I did, I forgot the reason.”

“Is this your best swimmer, Sawyer?” one of the other coaches asked before I could leave.

Coach’s arm wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me closer to the group. “That’s right.”

“Mind if I grab him for a few minutes to help out our best guy. He’s the anchor for our relay.”

“Mike’s a good sport, aren’t you, Mike?” Coach Sawyer slapped my back, causing me to jump, but I smiled and nodded.

“Sure thing, Coach.”

“Tom! Come here for a sec!”

I closed my eyes, took a breath, and willed it to not be the tall underage glass of water named Tom from earlier.

“How was Tom?” Danny asked.

We’d left the meet without showering, and it was mostly because I didn’t want Tom and his friends getting an eyeful of me in the shower. Under normal circumstances, I wasn’t ashamed of my nude body, but during my time “helping” Tom out, it was almost embarrassingly clear that he was smitten. It became abundantly clear when he handed me a note – a note! – with his number on it.

“Aroused and confident. I could see it filling his Speedo and then he gave me his phone number.”

“I still think it’s nice.”

“It is nice, but it doesn’t mean anything.” I continued listing the ways it was never going to work, but after a few minutes with no response from Danny, I checked to see what he was doing. He was on his fucking phone. “Something more important than my sex life?”

“Oh, stop whining. I’m looking him up.” He waved his phone in my face. “Tom Cockburn. He was born September twentieth, making him just over eighteen.”

“Where’d you find all that?”

“Smithfield Academy’s website,” Danny answered.

“Detective Danny,” I said before looking both ways.

We crossed the street and headed northwest towards the best dining hall on campus. I was always starving after a meet, even a friendly.

Blip.