Treading Water

Chapter 1

"Why am I taking this class, again?" John Lennon asked himself, standing in front of the mirror in the school locker room. He pinched at the exposed skin, watching it wiggle a little too much for his liking.

Because you flunked the other one, that's why.

"Fuck."

Now, John wasn't unattractive, but standing there in swimming trunks was not appeasing to the eye. At least, that what he thought. He felt completely exposed. The whole school didn't need to see him in basically just his underwear. There was a reputation for him to uphold. Sighing, he wrapped his white towel around his shoulders, not bothering to make eye contact with anyone else in the locker room. Still holding the towel around his body, he packed away his clothes in his bag, taking as much time to do so as he could.

Not long after, two other people entered the locker room and John tightened his grip on the towel.

"Can you believe we have to do this, Paul? I mean, it's not enough that we practice 20 plus hours a week, is it?" The voice came from a tall, lanky boy just a little younger than John. He had brown eyes and brown hair to match. He was accompanied by another boy John guessed around his own age, maybe younger, but more built and filled in. John would even say muscular.

"It can't be that bad, Geo. Besides, there are regular students taking this class." The other one, Paul, answered back. They didn't seem to notice, or they didn't care, that John was in the room with them. Paul began to change as if he were in there by himself, just casually stripping away layer by layer of his clothes until he was completely naked. When John looked up again, the one Paul called 'Geo', had done the same thing.

They were both incredibly fit, as in, they looked like they worked out. A lot. The whole situation made John even more self-conscious and it worsened when the pair put on their swimsuits. If John could call it that. They wore fucking speedos and they looked tight. John hoped they didn't want children.

"There's always the possibility that Coach stuck his nose in places it doesn't belong. You know as well as I do that Epstein has a knack for that. Remember the email he sent to Mr. Martin?" The skinny one asked and John wanted to throw up. There were actual swimmers taking the damned class.

"'lo, John."

His thoughts were disrupted by his best friend standing there with a towel draped over his shoulder.

"Stu! Fucking hell. Thank God you're in here." John felt a wave of relief wash over him, knowing he'd know someone else. But, it was replaced with self-consciousness since Stu looked a hell of a lot better than he did in trunks.

"It's just swimming, John. We'll do a couple up and downs and be done. Now, come on. We'll be late."

Reluctantly, John followed Stu out of the locker room, feeling the pungent smell of chlorine violate his nostrils as the door was opened.

The pool looked extremely uninviting. And Cold. Definitely cold. He glanced over to the two swimmers he saw in the locker room and they were comfortably chatting with the gym teacher, laughing every so often. The gym teacher handed the pair of them a white piece of paper and pointed to one of the roped off sections of the pool, which Stu so graciously told him was a 'lane'. The skinny one groaned and looked like he spouted off some expletives to his friend.

"Why are they in this class if they can already swim?" John asked.

"Dunno. Maybe they failed the other one as well?" Stu replied staring at the pair in question. They both jumped in the water and started swimming side by side. "It does amaze me how they make it look so easy. I was on a swim team as a kid and I didn't move anywhere."

"You mean to tell me, Sutcliffe, that you've done this before?" John nearly growled.

"Well, yeah. Didn't you have swim lessons?" Stu looked at him with an incredulous expression.

"No. No, I didn't, Stu. Uncle George taught me how to at least survive and that was it. Mimi thought such things were, oh, how'd she say it, 'menial'."

Stu shrugged at his friend, unsure of what to say for fear of how quickly John's mood turned. John just pouted and watched the two swimmers endlessly going back and forth down the pool. How obnoxious and boring is that? He thought, who'd want to do that for hours on end? I bet they're pricks, too. John was an outcast, but he wasn't unpopular. Mostly, people were afraid of him. He had that 'though-guy' look to him. On occasion, he'd clash with the other group. The stuck-up, daddy pays for it all, dicks. Most of them were in sports. He doubted those two in the pool were any different.  

 A few other students trickled in, a couple of girls and three more guys. He winked at the girls even though they were not his type. Nor were they that attractive to him. John had a reputation to uphold.

 The gym teacher, a portly man who might have been in-shape in his hey-day, approached the group of students. Obviously not wanting to be there, he sighed.

"I'm Mr. Andrews, as you all know, let's not make this difficult. Do exactly as I say and you'll pass. Swimming is a different kind of sport. It takes endurance and a whole new set of muscles you aren't used to using. Tomorrow, you will be sore..."

"Fuck." John cursed under his breath, earning a reassuring pat on the back from Stu. He tuned out whatever else kind of garbage Mr. Andrews was spouting out of his mouth. He had other things to worry about and drowning was definitely one of them. Although, at that point, John welcomed it.

This is going to be a fucking train wreck.