Flo

Five

"Oi, you're early."

There was this moment of holy-crap-some-asshole-just-scared-the-absolute-hell-out-of-me, then the realisation of Jesus-Christ-I-nearly-crapped-my-pants until I finally turned around and saw Dean sitting in his sleek, black SUV. He had rolled down the window and leaned across to the passenger's side to get a good look at me with his evil eyes.

And it was because of his evil eyes that I didn't have the guts to correct him, to tell him that he had been mistaken and I was just passing. Instead, I puffed out my chest, beefed myself up and went, "More like, you're late."

And honestly, I had no idea if he was or not. I suddenly wished I had a spontaneous heart attack to remove myself from my utter humiliation. But to my surprise, Dean looked at his dashboard, and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to ignore the impulsive outburst of testosterone and pretend you did not just purposely puff out like a peacock. I'm going to go park my car and when I come back, you better be... I don't know. Normal?"

Before I could open my mouth and snap out a smart retort, he was already circling his way back to the staff car park. I took another bite of my breakfast burger just as Dean approached, cocking his head to the side for me to follow. When arrived at his side, he had already unlocked one of the buildings. I pushed in after him, awkwardly standing in the corner of his office and out of the way.

Just as I was about to finish the rest of my breakfast, Dean reached over and snatched it in his hand. He held it like it was a nappy and drew his eyebrows together.

"Tell me, kid, what the hell you are feeding yourself."

I gave him a look. "My name is Holden, not 'kid'. And I went for a Macca's run."

            "Well, I hope you enjoyed it," Dean answered, tossing the remains of my food into the bin. "Because that's the last time you eat that crap."

I stared at him wide-eyed. For some reason, I couldn't comprehend that he had just threw away my breakfast. I suddenly felt like a little kid whose ice-cream fell onto the floor, disappointment and anger flooding through me. I stared at the bin for what seemed like eternity before I turned back to Dean and scowled.

"Dude, what the hell?" I pointed at the bin in obvious speechlessness.

Rather than replying, he plucked the Styrofoam cup from my hands, popped the lid off and started drinking my coffee. While I stood there, gawking at him in disbelief, he raised his eyebrows at me.

"Well, get undressed and jump in the pool."

"What?"

"Seriously, kid, I think all the grease from your breakfast has absorbed into your brain. You're here to train, so hit the locker rooms and meet me by the pool."

I faltered. "I didn't bring any swimming gear."

"You're kidding." It was a statement, rather than a question.

Awkwardly, I answered, "Nope."

Dean tucked his hand beneath his bicep and held the coffee to his lips. Casually, he leaned against his messy desk and crossed one foot over the other. Then, he tilted his head to the side at a rack sitting in the corner. At first, I didn't understand, but when I stared at it for longer, I realised what it was: Lost and Found.

"No way," I said, shoving my hands in my pockets and planting my feet firmly to the floor. "I could get some kind of disease or something."

Dean looked to the ground, shaking his head as he tried to compose himself before laughing. When he looked up at me, he smiled. Then, he leaned back against his desk, opened a drawer and tossed me a plastic package. I caught it before it hit the ground. Inside, sat a neatly folded pair of untouched speedos. As I tore open the packet and held them up, I realised they were untouched because [a] They looked extremely tight and [b] They were the most unflattering shade of yellow.