Monday rolls around too quickly. Carter jostles me awake while it’s still dark outside. We get ready quickly in silence and hop out the door to campus. I try to wipe the sleep from my eyes, but I’m still feeling slow. I hop out of his truck as we reach our facility, tapping my feet on the ground while I jog to the door to try to get awake. A wet floor sign keeps the door propped. A few guys have filed in and are headed to the locker room to change.
I change quickly into our heavy practice sweats, my new Carolina wrestling tee pristine overtop. Carter stretches beside me while Reuben eyes us from the back corner. There’s no way for me to tell if this is where it all goes down. I find comfort in meeting some of the other team members, but the scent of competition for placement seems so raw that no one cozies up to the other.
We run through warmpus quickly, doing some sprints in our main gym before returning to the wrestling room for some more flexibility work. Coach’s voice is firm for how young he is. Maybe 30, hired because of his success at a local high school after he graduated from Penn State with an NCAA Championship in his name. We focus heavily on flexibility and agility throughout the morning, and thank God we didn’t have to do any live drills. I was not looking forward to having to deal with Reuben, but that didn’t happen anyway. Coach gives us some tips and things to prepare for tomorrow, and we disperse back to the locker room.
Carter changes beside me. “Hey,” he trails off. “I’ve got to meet with Coach about lineups for next week. You good to find something to do for the next hour or so?”
“Yeah, man, of course.”
He nods, slings his bag over his shoulder and disappears down the hall through doors towards offices. I take a minute to lace my shoes, letting the room clear out. Reuben’s still at his locker, towel slung over one shoulder and scrolling through his phone like he’s waiting up for someone. I move to leave, but his voice cuts sharply through the locker room.
“Yo, faggot,” he pipes.
I pause, and look back. He tosses his towel aside and stands, cracking his neck as he steps toward me.
“Coach say anything about you?” he asks, voice sharp.
“Not really.”
Reuben exhales through his nose. “Didn’t think so.”
Before I can move, he grabs a fistful of my shirt and yanks me forward, forcing me to look into his eyes. My bag slips off of my shoulder and thugs on the ground. He towers over me, the locker room suddenly way too quiet.
“You think wearing that shirt makes you one of us?” His voice low, dangerous. “You think that’s enough?”
“You don’t belong here just ‘cause Carter wants you around,” he growls. “You belong if you can hold your ground.”
He shoves my chest, hard. I rock back and fall into the locker behind me. I spring to my feet, but he’s already in my face.
“You gonna swing, or you gonna sit?”
“Back off.”
He grins, grabs my wrist and drags me forward. “Make me.”
I wrest my arm from his grip and stand, arms tight by my side. I push into Rueben, making sure I’m not backing down. I stand my ground while he leans in again.
“You think you can take me?”
I say nothing, my jaw clenched tight. I refuse to give him a response. Reuben’s smile fades, replaced by a look of pure malice. He steps up to me, bare chest pressing into me. He shoves me hard, palms against my chest. I fall into the lockers. My heart pounds and adrenaline pushes uncomfortably through me. Reuben grabs my wrist again, fingers digging into my skin. He twists my arm, and the torque on my arm forces my body to twist. I grunt in pain and bite my lip, refusing to cry out. He kicks the back of my knees with his bare foot and my chest slides down the cold locker until I’m on my knees.
“You’re fucking pathetic. You’re never gonna be successful here.”
“You’re just fucking jealous,” I sneer.
Reuben laughs, and then his foot connects with the side of my body. I hit the floor hard and roll to my stomach. I push myself up, but Reuben’s foot connects with my ribcage, and this time I can’t hide the searing pain radiating through my body. I cry out, loudly, curling into a ball to protect myself. He stands by my head, this evil man taking me back to how Carter first humiliated me on the mat, but at least he didn’t want to kill me.
“Get up,” he demands. “Get up and fight back, faggot.” Reuben presses his foot onto my face, the grit of his sole digging into my skin. I wince, squirming under his weight as he puts more pressure on my cheek. I try to squirm away, but I can’t escape him.
I can feel the tears begin to sting my eyes, but I blink them back. I take a deep breath, but I can’t get enough strength to wriggle out from under his foot. He leans down and runs his hands over my ass, teasing it gently.
“Fuck. You’re such a pretty piece of meat.” He pulls his foot off of me. And hoists me up under my shoulders.
My body extends while I try to keep both feet on the ground, but once I’m eye level with him, my body dangles at his mercy.
“You keep showing up like you belong,” he says, low and dry. He drops me like I’m nothing. My knees buckle slightly, and I collapse to all fours. “You better figure yourself out quick.”
The locker room door swings open, and he disappears through it without looking. I sit splayed out on the benches with my back against the cold metal. My entire body aches and I text Carter once my fingers steady enough to hit the right keys. I close my eyes and swallow hard. Within a minute of that text shooting off, Carter is in front of me, almost out of breath even coming just from down the hallway. He lifts me by my side and I whimper immediately, my body shaking from where Reuben’s foot connected.
Carter sets his jaw. His hands are suddenly gentler, cradling instead of lifting. His eyebrows are drawn so tight they nearly touch.
“What the fuck happened?” he whispers, kneeling down in front of me now.
I can’t bring myself to say anything. My mouth hangs open while I pull in another breath. He sees it, all of it. The pain and fear, the shame trying to crawl back down my throat each time I swallow. Carter presses a hand to my back.
“Okay,” he says, “steady now. I’ve got you, let’s get you out of here.”
He helps me up slowly, his arm steady around my waist like he’s afraid I’ll fall apart if he lets go. I lean into him without thinking, when really I could walk under my own weight. He doesn’t speak, just guides me out of the locker room and down the hallway. His steps are careful, but he’s shaking– or maybe it’s just from how much I’m shaking. He shoulders open the side door and takes me down a set of stairs around the back of the building. He loops around to his truck and lifts me into the passenger seat like I weigh nothing. Carter gets in and we sit uncomfortably for a moment.
“Was it Reuben?”
I don’t answer. He exhales sharply, then slams the hell of his palm into the dashboard. I flinch.
“He won’t touch you again,” he says. “I swear to God, I’ll end him.” Carter’s voice cracks on the edges. “I should have stayed with you,” he mutters. “Should’ve known he’d pull some shit.”
“You couldn’t have.”
He looks over at me, jaw flexing and his gaze raking over me like he’s trying to memorize where I’m hurting. “I did know. That’s the problem. I should have warned you. Reuben’s not just a loudmouth bruiser. He’s a territorial douche, especially when it comes to me.”
That makes me look at him. “What do you mean?”
Carter’s eyes flick to mine. “He doesn’t like people close to me. Never has. I don’t know why I thought that you’d be chill enough to get him to respect you, but clearly it wasn’t enough.” His voice quiets now, like confessing something. “And you showing up, confronting him yesterday? Living with me, stretching next to me today? All of it is a challenge to him.”
“So how can I change that?”
“You can’t.”
“Reuben has always been there. Since before high school. We’ve fought, we wrestled on the same teams and he was stuck to me just as much then. He was never able to move on.”
My eyebrows crease.
“He tried stuff with me, and I tried to make it work. He said shit he wouldn’t say to anyone else, and after I decided I was done, he swore off men and took his anger out on anyone he thought would threaten his relationship with me.”
“So what now?”
“Now we keep going. You keep showing up with me, wrestling around me. I’m not letting him sabotage this.”
The next day at practice, everything comes crashing back. Reuben appears by the side of the mat. His presence is too big to ignore. He leans against the wall with his arms crossed, eyes scanning like he’s sizing up everyone here. Carter’s jaw tightens, knowing he’ll make his way over. We break to grab some water and catch a breather, and Reuben takes the time to stride over to us.
“Well,” he flashes his teeth. “Look who’s back for round two.”
I stand my ground, but I can feel Carter’s body tense up beside me. Reuben’s gaze flicks to him before settling on mine again. Carter steps between us slightly and whispers something into Reuben’s ear. Reuben smirks.
“Nah. I’ll do and be where I please. Actually, I think I’ll spend the night back at the house.”
“You’re not welcome there.”
“I paid my dues, I have my own room, shit, I even have a key. I think I’m plenty welcome.”
Carter tenses again, his hands balled by his side.
“Relax, Carter,” Reuben huffs. “I won’t do anything too drastic. Not yet, anyway.”
My chest stays knotted for the rest of practice, and when Coach finally dismisses us, I grab my shit and dip outside, waiting for Carter to unlock his truck. We sit in the truck while the engine idles just like we did yesterday, except a new fervor has risen in me. The ride is quiet, not quite peaceful but the summer air helps blow away some of the tension.
Carter pulls into the driveway. My eyes fix immediately on the other car, new. It didn’t belong there. Carter’s face hardens instantly, his knuckles tightening as he tears his keys from the ignition. The truck engine sputters and he sits for a moment. “Fuck,” Carter mutters under his breath. “I didn’t think he’d actually show up.”
He hops out of his truck and I follow quickly, snagging my things and pushing inside. Carter works upstairs quickly, leaving nothing to chance.
“Stay down here,” he mutters. I don’t argue, and I head to the couch, sinking into it to ignore the feelings caught in my stomach. I hear the thud of footsteps above. Carter’s voice is distinctly ragged. It doesn’t take much to guess who’s on the other side of the conversation.
I hear a loud thud and the chandelier in the foyer shakes. The silence breaks after a moment by a creaking door from down the hallway. Anticipation builds as footsteps approach the foyer. Reuben appears and slowly walks downstairs with his hand on the railing.
“You should probably go check on your boy,” he smirks. His shirt is ruffled, and there’s a slight red streak on his cheek. His knuckles are red, too. “I tried to talk to him,” he pretends Carter would be unreasonable. “But he didn’t believe what I had to say. So much so that he tried to square up. Didn’t end well.”
I don’t move nor blink.
“What? Not gonna run to his side?” he drawls, stepping closer. “You think the closer you can get to him, the safer you’ll be, right?” He blocks the staircase with his body as he approaches me, feet silently moving across the hardwood while I scoot to the other end of the couch. “I’m stronger than both of you.”
Reuben sets his feet in front of me. “Carter used to be mine– on the mat, in the house, everywhere that mattered. You showing up doesn’t change that. He’s still my bitch, but now he thinks he can stand up to me because he has someone he needs to protect.” He leans in closer, voice dropping low. “If you want him, you’re going to have to take him– from me.”
Reuben crouches for a moment, then slides himself onto the couch next to me. He wipes his lip and then drapes his massive arm over my shoulder, pulling my body in until I’m leaning into his chest. He sits for a moment. I stare at the blood on his knuckles. His fingers flex on my shoulder, each tap sends a wave of coldness through me. He knows damn well the game he’s playing. He’s twisting the knife and trying to tear me off of Carter, and he’s enjoying every moment of it.
His voice enters the space, low.
“You think Carter’s some kinda hero? Like he’s just your ticket in and he’s got his ways but you can just brush it off because the sex is good? If he’s even given you that, yet.
“Carter’s mine. He’s been mine for years– but I already told you that. We go farrr back.” He draws out each consonant. “You wouldn’t understand unless you were there to live it. Now, though, you might get to, but I’m not gonna make that so easy. I shaped him. I made him better. I made him Carter. I gave him his confidence and his cockiness, I’m sure you’ve seen the differences between how he carries himself when he’s proving himself and when he actually knows someone. And I’m still working on him. He’s too soft.
“He’s been reliant on me since we first met freshman year in high school. But since you’ve come in and shaken up his world, given him something to think about, he’s been using what I taught him against me. I’ll admit, I didn't see him obsessing over you like he does, but his space is my space.
“The thing about Carter is–” Reuben fills his lungs, then slowly exhales. “He’s weak. He’s emotionally weak. He pretends he’s strong but once the right person finds him, his toughness– it evaporates. That’s where I had– have,” he corrects, “him. That’s where I kept him in line. I know how to pull him back when he got too far into his own head and life. But when you showed up he thought maybe he’d found his savior. I’m not letting that happen.”
Reuben runs a hand through his dark, wavy hair. “You think that man is yours now. You have his heart in your hands and I can tell from the way that he looks at you. I see what he wants from you, and, well, you can’t protect him. I’ve been there, done that– for years now, he’s been whatever I want him to be. He swears I follow him, but that’s just not true.
“You can have your time with him, I’ve accepted that. But he will always come back to me and when he does, he will leave you.” Reuben gives a tight smile, his gaze intense as he retracts his arm and stands, brushing his shirt.
Reuben disappears upstairs. I sit there, the room feeling colder. I stand and move quietly up the stairs and back to Carter’s room. I open the door slightly and see him with his face in his hands and elbows on his knees. His shoulders are tense, and I can hear the slight hitch in his breathing. He doesn’t even notice me at first. But when he does, he looks up. His face is pale and strained, one side of his jaw is puffy. There’s the slightest bit of blood at the corner of his mouth.
I sit next to him. He hesitates for a moment, but then rests his hand on my leg. Carter looks at me, his eyes uncertain. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, lips barely parting enough to articulate anything. “I told you that you could stay here, but I think for the three of us that it might be a good idea for you to go.”
I stare at Carter, then at the wall behind him. I swallow hard while he pulls the rug out from under my feet that I had just barely risen to. His jaw tightens and he closes himself off to me, removing his hand and putting it back on his thigh. This is nothing like the Carter I met when he first recruited me.
“I can get you a hotel room, within walking distance to practice– but I can’t have you here.”
“You’re pushing me away,” I manage to say, my voice low.”
His eyes flicker to mine and then over to the door like he’s trapped here. “I’m not going to let you get caught up in this. That isn’t fair.”
I stand up and step back. “I’m not leaving.”
“That’s not your choice.”
“You can’t make those decisions for me, Carter,” I pipe, not worried if Reuben hears me now. If anything, he’d like to hear this.
Carter’s jaw tightens. He laces his fingers in his hair. “Get out.” He stands and stares me down. “Now.”
I don’t move. The air between us crackles, and I can feel his anger rising. He steps closer, his sadness turning to a weird ambrosia of anger and vulnerability.
“What?”
“You need to leave.” He puts a hand into my chest and pushes me towards the door. “You need to fucking leave.”
I stumble back slightly, surprised by his response. My chest tightens and my heart pounds, my head feels like it may explode. I look up at him. The way his eyes burn with frustration. This isn’t Carter. This is the man who hounded me once I stood off the mat and the man who didn’t care how much it hurt me when he twisted my arm behind my back to make me submit. He lets out a frustrated breath, fingers twitching by his side.
I step up to him, and once again, I’m met with his hand forcing me backward. I stumble back into the doorframe. The sharp corner knocks my spine and I grimace. I lick my lips and then bite them. I don’t say anything. His hand hangs in the air. He looks at it like he can’t believe it belongs to him, but his eyes flatten quickly
“Carter…”
“Don’t,” he snaps. He steps forward and pushes me out of his room this time. I stumble from the surprising force and my ass hits the hardwoods hard.
“You’re pushing me away?” I smile in disbelief. “You’re literally pushing me out of your fucking life.” I look at him while my mouth hangs open. I turn around and see Reuben standing in his door with his arms crossed. He smiles. I flip him off.
“Good one,” he mocks. “Just leave, alright?”
“Where the fuck is this coming from?” I turn back to Carter. Reuben steps up behind me from down the hallway. I turn back to Reuben, trying to read anything from their faces.
“You should listen to him,” Reuben chimes in again, voice smooth and steady while what I thought would be my future seems to vanish as Reuben inches me towards the stairs. I glance at Carter once more, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but his jaw is set and his eyes avoid mine in favor of Reuben’s. I feel the weight of the house pressing on me, the silence between us three so loud.
“I’m not gonna ask again,” Carter mutters flatly. His eyes flicker to mine, then back to Reuben. I feel my stomach twist. I knew that I should have dipped for good the moment he kissed me on the bleachers. He slips further away from me while my vision begins to tunnel. I can’t risk sounding so desperate, but I can’t lose him.
“You’re making a mistake,” I say.
“Carter’s got it all figured out,” he says, lips curling into a smile. “You’re just complication now. Nothing personal.”
Everything about this is personal. I stand for a moment longer, unable to move. I swallow my pride and take the first step on the stairs. I exhale quietly and try to let everything off of my shoulders. When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I glance back at Carter, but there’s nothing left.
I step outside and walk down the steps, navigating the unmarked asphalt as it winds around trees and homes I could only dream of affording. I pull out my phone to a text from Carter.
I got you a room at The Graduate. I’ll drop your stuff off later
You should reach out to housing and see if you can move in early
I sigh, not letting tears plague me, but I don’t want to go. It takes me about an hour to get where I need to. I didn’t want to call an Uber because maybe it’d be better for me to let my thoughts loose. I check in, and walk bare handed into the elevator. The receptionist looked at me funny, but I’m fine looking funny to literally anyone other than to Carter.
Practice for the next few days is a blur. My movements feel automatic while I can hardly seem to involve myself. I fall into line with the rest of the guys, not talking to any of them. We go to the weight room again, and Coach is more active around talking to his team. He stands with Carter for a moment and I can see both of them glancing on me while I unrack the barbell. I do my best to focus on myself, my strength channeling but failing me all the same. I’m ready to leave, but Coach holds me back individually. I glance at Carter as he leaves.
“You okay, broski?”
I look up to see Coach. Broski?
“Yeah.”
“Your guy,” he flicks his head at the door, “Carter… Everything good, or do I need to keep him in check?”
Damn it. “Yeah.”
“Nah.” He smiles loosely, calling my bluff. “It ain’t. I don’t know what happened but now you’re sitting sidelined.”
“Just figuring out where I’m welcome and where I’m not.”
“You’re welcome here.”
I smile and walk out. The sun is already cutting sharp through rising clouds. The humidity makes the air oppressive. I shoulder my bag and start the walk back to my hotel room, trying not to think about the fact that my legs feel like they’re fighting to turn me around and find my way to Carter. I’m still replaying what Coach said to me, telling me I’m welcome, and making me feel welcomed. It means the most coming from him– the only person who knows that I don’t have to be the best to belong somewhere. It should feel better though, it shouldn’t have to fight against a man who I thought I’d be spending plenty of time with.
As I round the corner back onto a brick sidewalk, I hear low and easy laughter. I slow down. Carter and Reuben. They leaned against the side of Carter’s truck, both in their practice shorts and tees. Reuben says something, and Carter actually laughs. My stomach knots and a rush of warmth courses through my head.
Reuben spots me while I walk slowly past them, like he was expecting me to come by. “Well, if it isn’t our stray.”
Carter turns, his eyes lock with mine. “You lost or something?”
It’s amazing how quickly Reuben wrapped his fingers into Carter’s brain. Fucking dick. A pure manipulator.
I shake my head. “Just heading back.”
“Sure you are,” Reuben tests how much I’ll bend. He strolls over to me. “Still trying to prove yourself, or can you just not take a hint?”
Carter stays against the truck, watching Reuben.
“I don’t have anything to prove.”
Reuben laughs, glancing back at Carter like he’s waiting for his approval for something. Carter keeps his face flat, mouth shut. He stares at me now, and for a second, an unquestionable break in his demeanor where his shoulders sag the slightest. A flicker of doubt in his eyes maybe. Then he nods and crosses his arms.
“Reuben’s right. You should focus on yourself. This isn’t it.”
Reuben tilts his head and agrees. “We’re just keeping it real with you. You got your own lane now, stay out of mine.”
Carter doesn’t correct him.
I nod, swallowing slowly. “Fuck you,” I say, turning more towards Carter. “You’re a fucking coward.”
Carter’s jaw tightens, his eyes widen ever so slightly. Reuben reacts first, stepping in like he’s itching to escalate.
“Watch it,” he mutters.
I shoulder check him and step around, fixing myself on Carter. “You’re pathetic. Hiding who you are for a guy who doesn’t even care about you. Fuckin’ pussy, man, it’s sad.” I shake my head.
Carter flinches. His arms fall to his side again, and his lips part. Reuben takes a step toward me.
“Say that again,” Reuben snaps, but I don’t look at him.
“You gonna let him speak for you for the rest of your life?” I ask, voice edged with something I can’t even name anymore. “Or did I imagine every time you looked at me in the last week like I was the only one who ever saw you?”
Carter’s breath stutters for a moment. He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t need to. I see it written all over his face. Reuben tries to intervene again, but I push around him again.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Carter. Right now. Tell me there was nothing.”
He doesn’t. His lips press together again, and he looks down.
“Thought so,” I say, shrugging with my palms up as I back away, eyes locked on Carter. “There’s your truth, Reuben, no matter how much you scribble over it.” I hold Carter’s gaze before whipping myself around and I don’t look back this time.
Later that night, I sit in bed on my phone, waiting for each minute to tick by. My thumb moves mechanically through photos of people I knew in middle and high school smiling together, some just friends, one couple somehow together since the beginning of high school. Out of nowhere, a text flashes at the top of my screen from Carter.
You good
I can’t bring myself to answer, but my fingers move anyway.
Yep
I’m sorry
You couldnt say that to my face
Can we talk
No
I hesitate for a moment before typing again
Not till you get your shit together
My head hurts, but I go to sleep. I don’t set my alarm. I miss workouts. I know Coach will be disappointed, but he knows who to ask. I don’t bother getting up until it’s time to get lunch. I walk to the Chipotle next door and sit outside on the patio, the fans work through my hair and it feels good. I finish my food quickly and head back to the iciness of my hotel room. I set the temperature even lower and tuck myself into the sheets. I fish my phone out of my pocket to another text from Carter.
Can we at least talk in person
I leave him on read. Anger boils inside me. I walk down to Bolin creek and then run until I can’t feel my legs anymore, creating my own laps around the greenway through matted trails and concrete walkways. Sweat drips off my body, my shorts are soaked. The world around me blurs with each stride, the pounding of my feet against the ground is the only thing that I can focus on.
The next morning I drag myself out of bed on time. I wash my face and walk to practice, getting there early enough to have enough time to apologize to Coach for missing practice yesterday. The rest of the guys filter in slowly. I keep my head down, tying my shoes several times before the knots look right. A few nods are thrown my way, and I smile back, finally seeming to get more familiar with the faces here. No one says anything directly, which I guess is fine, I haven’t done the work to put myself out there, either.
Practice bored me. Flexibility and muscle mobility training. Critical, but boring, weirdly painful. Nothing worse than doing yoga in a sweaty room where some men think deodorant is optional.
A thin mat of clouds obscure the sun, offering relief from the direct beating of the past week, but only amplifying the humidity. My thoughts are derailed for a moment by the sight of Carter sitting on a brick wall by a bike rack, elbows on his knees and backpack on his side pretending like he’d been here waiting for a while. He doesn’t say anything right away, but I do notice that he’s managed to split with Reuben for the first time in days.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” he says. “Didn’t want to text you again.”
“Probably a good idea,” I smile
“I thought that if you were gonna tell me to fuck off again, it should at least be face to face.”
“Dope.” I stop in front of him. “Fuck off.”
His eyes seem surprised, like he expects me just to fall back in his arms. And as much as I want to, I turn on my heel and keep walking. “Hold up,” he hops off the wall and jogs up to me. “Can we at least talk?”
“No, bruh. You kicked me out like I was nothing and you think now you can just ignore that you did that?”
“I shouldn’t have.”
“I’m glad you see that now, Carter, but you’re un-fucking-believable.” I turn my back to him.
“Cameron, man, I’m sorry.”
I turn to Carter. “Yo, I’m serious,” my eyebrows knit together. “Fuck off.” I put my hands into his chest and continue walking.
Carter doesn’t move, doesn’t try to stop me this time. I turn away, setting my feet steadily and pulling my shoulders back. I glance back just for a moment at the next crosswalk. He stands there, still looking at me with his arms tucked by his side. I want to believe that I’m doing the right thing by choosing myself, but I feel like I’m jeopardizing my future here at the same time. I wish he would have fought harder, and maybe I could have too, but now it feels like the push and pull is too overwhelming.
My breath grows more uneven, the heat behind my eyes making me either want to scream or laugh. I meander across brick pathways along quads, snaking behind old buildings and looking into labs that have been for the most part shut down for the summer. Familiar eyes meet mine just after I decide to head back to my hotel to cool off.
“You look like you just cussed out a ghost,” he says, stopping beside me.
“He’s a ghost alright.”
“Lorenzo,” he states. “Most call me Haase.”
“Cameron. Cam.”
“Nice to meet you. I’ve seen you around practice. You look like you’re gonna be hard to deal with. You heading somewhere, or just… storm-walking?”
I raise my eyebrow slightly. “Storm-walking, if it means what I think it does.”
“Well, if you’re looking to chill out, the cold tub’s open. I just finished a bit of a post practice lift. Coach said it should be free all afternoon.”
I stop, the thought tempting enough, but I hesitate. “I don’t have my bathing suit.”
Lorenzo raises his eyebrow and looks me up and down. “That’s not a problem, man. You’re just in and out in a few minutes. Nothing wrong with letting it all free.”
“Yeah, why the hell not?” I smile. We walk back to our wrestling complex and he holds the door open for me. He walks alongside me, telling me where to turn. We head downstairs, and the dim hallway feels like a different world from the modern weight room smells good. The chemicals tinge my nose, but the coldness of the air freshens the space itself. I step inside, the chill of the room quickly wicks the sweat on my skin. The blue tile and grey concrete walls makes the room feel even more like an icebox. In the middle, there are two hot tub sized pools of water ready.
“Not a fan of crowds, huh?” he asks while he peels off his shirt.
“Indifferent. Why.”
“You look like you like to spend time alone.”
“Sometimes, but sometimes it feels like less of a choice.”
“Well, I like to keep to myself, too.” He dips his toes into the tub and continues stripping down until he’s completely nude.
I wasn’t really expecting for his butt to be out, but whatever. I follow suit, slowly sliding my shorts and my boxers down to my ankles and kicking them to the side. I sit on the edge of the tub, and he does the same, but facing me. Lorenzo settles into the tub beside me, letting out a slow breath through pursed lips.
“This is the part where you either love it or hate it.” He slides in quickly and some of the water sloshes out onto the tiles.
I slide in more slowly, my entire body tensing but I take a few deep breaths. “Fuck.”
Lorenzo chuckles, closes his eyes, and tilts his head back. The water bites my skin until my legs and arms begin to numb. My chest feels warm, which is weirdly nice.
“Most guys don’t get this. They know they gotta do it, but I enjoy my time here. It feels like a reset, you know? After a hard practice you can just not focus on anything and let your body soothe itself. It’s nice, because it took me a while to figure out how to actually feel like I could reset my body.”
“So this is your thing, then.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, bro. I’ve been here enough to know that if you don’t have a place to reset yourself, you’re just gonna be miserable and you’re also not gonna be a good wrestler. I’m here to put my name on the sport, and I hope you are too. Some people are just here to wrestle, but it’s not just wrestling. Cliché, but cliché because it’s true.” He speaks smoothly, soothingly.
“How’d you get so good at this?” My teeth chatter quietly.
“You don’t get good at it, you get used to it. You choose to do it so much that now it’s just something you do. No thought, just action. But you gotta put the effort into starting, and making room for it.”
“Yeah,” I trail off. I close my eyes for a moment and allow the cold water to seep into my mind to wash it clean. Lorenzo shifts beside me, and I can hear him let out a small sigh.
“You know,” he puffs, “we don’t always need to be on the clock.”
“Structure keeps my mind good.”
“Until you need a break from it but you can’t get one because you’ve committed yourself to so much shit– so many people, that you lose what you want to do.”
I open one eye, glancing over at him. “Sounds like you’ve been thinking about this a lot.”
“I tend to do that. Everyone’s been through it, some catch it before it breaks them and some don’t. I know you know that, too.”
“I guess so.”
“Well, I know you’re new. That’s a fuck ton of pressure. You have to write yourself to dozens of men and to thousands of students who you represent. It’s a lot.” He submerges himself completely.
Lorenzo surfaces with a quiet splash, and he exhales sharply.
“Don’t let it pile up, Cam.” His eyes meet mine for the first time since we’ve gotten in.
“I hear ya.”
He shifts and stands. He steps out of the water and I can’t help but admire his physique. I follow his suit, stepping out, and walking over to a bin where towels stay neatly folded. I grab a towel and put the rough cotton across my face, down my body, along my thighs until my skin no longer drips. Lorenzo pats my bare ass with his open palm. I turn to him, a small smile playing on my lips. He grins back, and wraps his head in his towel.
