Changing Tides 《COMPLETE》

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Muffled voices carry through the men's locker room. The sound is deep and rich, but the words are undefined as they collide against the metal door separating us from them. Roland adjusts his gym bag on his shoulder and opens the door. He pauses just long enough to turn the page of his newspaper before entering the locker room with the same air of confidence I've always known him to have.

"You hear the Chargers are looking for a new QB?" he asks me over his shoulder.

Butterflies dance around my stomach as the two of us weave through the locker room. The muffled voices become louder and more distinct. Roland probably knows who they are, and it makes this even worse. When Roland came to my high school, he was the new guy who had to earn his place on the team.

Now I'm that guy.

I scratch at the stubble along my jawline. I should've shaved. Granted, this isn't an official practice and I'm not even a part of the team, but I know how first impressions can last longer than they should – both the better and for the worse.

The two of us round the last corner and are greeted by two guys talking against the far lockers. One is still in his swim wear while the other looks like he's just about to leave. They both seem to know Roland though, and the one ready to leave approaches us with a friendly smile.

"Roland! How's it going, man? How'd the Calc final go?"

The two exchange a brief handshake. My eyes automatically sweep over his body to size up the competition. He has a lean torso and strong arms, but he's too short. There's a chance he could do well with short distance races, but there's no way he's an anchor for this team.

"It went," Roland responds with a shrug. He folds his newspaper in half and tucks it under the crook of his elbow.

"What you doing in here on an off-day?" the guy asks. "Getting in an extra practice?"

Roland gives me a side-ways glance, one that is only half apologetic for the introduction that's about to unfold.

"Not exactly," Roland answers. "Since Weston quit the team, I talked to Coach Andrews about getting this guy in for a try-out. Now I just have to get him in the pool to see if I'm going to lose my reputation over it."

Roland nudges me and the friendly face turns to me with curiosity. His smile wanes, but only slightly. He extends a hand and I take it in return.

"I'm Erik," he says. "Nice to finally meet you, Trey."

My eyebrows twitch in surprise. Erik grins and releases my hand, pointing a thumb in Roland's direction.

"I've been privy to quite a few Trey stories over the past year," he explains.

"I promise you they're not all true," I say with a hesitant laugh.

If I knew these guys better, I'd turn to Roland and slug him in the arm so hard he'd have a bruise for a week. Here I am thinking my worst offense will be a scruffy beard. Turns out the entire team already knows what a lousy drunk I am, too.

What a fuckin' gossip.

Erik chuckles and pats me on the shoulder. "It's good to meet you, Trey. Looking forward to seeing you swim."

"Yea, thanks. Nice to meet you too, man."

Erik gives a lazy salute to Roland and waves to the other simmer in the locker room before departing. Roland takes the paper out from under his arm.

"I'll meet you by lane eight," he says.

"You're not swimming?"

He smirks. "I'm not the one who needs the practice."