Synchronised Motion (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 8

He looks up to the roof like he is praying for patience. Like I drive him insane. Like I anger him just as much as he angers me.

He looks back down at me, his lips are pressed together but his eyes are glinting. "Alright then, you think you're so hot shot Goldfish. let's see how good you really are."

He smoothly strips his pants and tops off without hesitation. Then effortlessly drives into the water.

It is an understatement to say I am shocked. Firstly, that he is paying me attention when he has barely glanced at me this whole session only to bark orders and swim criticism. And secondly, that he jumped in the pool.

Some of the team has stopped swimming, watching Oliver jump in with confused and curious expressions. Oliver usually doesn't swim when he coaches, he observes us from outside the pool. 

Oliver surfaces from the water shaking the water out of his hair before landing his eyes on me. "Alright Goldfish, show me what you got." He dares, a challenge to his voice.

I am disbelieving for another moment. He wants to see who can hold their breath longer?

There is no way he is going to beat me.
No fucking way.

I'm certain about it.

If there is one thing I am good at, it is holding my breath. When I was a kid I used to hold my breath a lot. I used to hold my breath to get attention from my Father. Every rare time we would hang out when I was a kid, I was desperate for his attention. I wanted him to talk to me, to be proud of me, to want to hear about my day. But he was always too busy on his phone and working. So I started holding my breath, to see how long it took for him to notice.

It was a stupid way to rebel against him like that, as if hurting myself would punish him. All it did was make me pass out a few times and allow me to hold my breath for a fucking long time. It's not like he ever noticed. At least I got good lungs out of it.

So no, Oliver Fowler has no chance of beating me.

No chance at all.

"Fowler, you have no chance, it wouldn't be fair game," I say, because it is true. I don't think he realises how good I am at this. How bad he is going to lose.

He cocks his head to the side, sizing me up and I can't help but puff my chest out a little when he does so.

"You know what, let's make a bet out of this. If you win I will let you have the nicest room at our next comp. But if I win..." He pauses thinking. "I get something in return."

By now we have all teams' attention. They have swam over to the side of our lane straining to hear what Oliver is saying. I can't help the grin that comes to my face. I don't even need to ask what he wants because there is no way he will win. Not this time.

Game on golden boy.

***

Are eyes are connected in a hard stare both of us too stubborn to break. But I'm seriously considering it because his dark gaze is making my stomach flip.

We are both sitting cross-legged holding onto a water weight facing each other. All I hear is silence and all I see is him.

He looks surprisingly comfortable and relaxed. Composed as always, even when deprived of oxygen for over a minute.

He wants to win, I can see it. A fire is burning in his eyes, and I'm afraid I have been caught in the cross fire.

Golden boy comes from a rich family. A loving caring family. He has never had to work at anything like me. He didn't have to work his arse off to buy his first car. He doesn't have to try hard at swimming he is just naturally good with his long limbs. He didn't have to hold his breath to try and get his Fathers attention.

And that is why I am going to win.

The light breaking through the surface flickers. I look up to see figments of a persons fractured silhouette. Someone is looking down into the water. Someone awfully familiar, like an itch at the back of my brain.

My eyes flick back to Oliver whose eyes are already on me he is unaware of the person watching us.

I try not to let it distract me too much because nothing is going to stop me from the sweet victory of beating Oliver. I am going to win this round if it takes every breath in me—literally.

Oliver is fidgeting a little and I can tell he is struggling. I raise an eyebrow at him to which he ignores. To be honest I am surprised he has lasted this long. I didn't think he would. And from the look of determination on his face I worried that he is going to push himself too far. 

The person above the surface is still there. They wave and my eyes widen when recognition hit. I am so shocked I suck in a sharp breath. Except, there is no air around me—only water.

My lungs protest and I quickly make my way to the surface to splutter the water I inhaled.

Game most defiantly not on. Nah fuck this, I forfeit. The bet is long forgotten as cough out the water. After I have recovered I look at the person who is the cause of my lost breath.

This can't be right, my Father didn't even come to my swim comp that was on my birthday, why would he come to a training now? Anxiety builds in my muscles making them twitch.

"Dad?" I says hesitantly. "Ah, what are you doing here?"

He grins his charming smile. "Hey kiddo, I thought I'd pop by and grab a meal with you."

For the third time this day I am shocked. I am distantly aware of Oliver breaking the waters surface but mainly focused on the man in front of me. The man I haven't seen in what feels like forever. 

Oliver let's me leave training early to grab some food with my Dad. The whole time he was talking about himself and his money and job while I played with the chips on my plate. I lost my appetite pretty soon, was a shame too because the food looked fucking good.

For the first time ever I wasn't holding onto every word of his like gospel. I wasn't competing for his attention or wanting him to care about me. For the first time I was bored. It felt like I was truely seeing him for who he truely is. Seeing how self-centred he is.

I tried to put a fake smile on and pretend that I was happy to see him. Happy to hear him talk more about himself. Good thing he doesn't know me well, my acting skills aren't the best.

Funny thing was that it wasn't my Dads bullshit he was spewing or lack of interest in me that was occupying my mind. But it was the bet Oliver and I had made.

The bet I lost.

And suddenly I wish I asked him what he wanted from me before I agreed.