It was an odd day. After Wesley and I broke up, I went to the bathroom and cried for a good 20 minutes. I cried because of the break up but mostly because I wasn’t making a comeback. Then Jeremy comes about and again pulls some romantic stunt that made my legs feel like jell-o.
Wesley and I dominated the gymnastics world. He was all around world champion and so was I. The press bought it instantly and we often had to stage romantic and elaborate dates just so the press would go gaga over us. It was all the PR coordinator’s idea. It probably helped that I grew my hair out and dyed my hair brunette when I came to JBA.
Obviously I got the roommate and clique fix when we went back to our dorm.
“What did he say?”
“Did he kiss you again?”
“Did he ask you out?”
“Are you guys a couple now?”
I laughed immediately, “He doesn’t want to move so quickly after Wesley and I broke up.”
Mia giggled, “But he still wants to move with you!”
I rolled my eyes, “I guess so.”
We couldn’t help burst out in laughter.
“We kind of told each other we loved each other,” I blurted.
“What?! That’s a one month milestone!” Rayna exclaimed.
“You have milestones for your relationship?” I laughed.
“That escalated really quickly,” Alexa agreed.
“I blurted it out. Or something like it and he said it back. Is it really that big a deal?”
“Yes!” All three yelled in my face in unison.
We went to a party held at a nearby campsite. There was a bonfire and people were roasting marshmallows. We were sitting on logs. This was my sixth bonfire in two months, I had realized.
“So there aren’t any frat or wild parties that go on here at JBA?” I asked Jeremy.
“There are, but they’re really discreet. Usually mini parties in dorm rooms are by cliques and huge ragers are done by the popular and the elite. Ragers are in town so you got to sneak out of school grounds,” Jeremy replied.
“Has anyone been busted?”
“Oh no, every time the school gets a lead, the party venue changes and people are cut off the list.”
“Have you been to one?”
“Once; it was when the whole Olympic hopeful, Michael Phelps’ nephew story got out. It’s crazy. There were people getting high in one corner, getting it off in the woods and tons of drunken teenagers. One experience was enough, honestly,” he replied.
“Sounds like a typical party,” I shrugged.
He looked impressed, “I never dubbed you for a party girl.”
“I’ve been to some, but never drank or taken drugs before. You know all about the random drug checks.”
He laughed, “Feels like a lifetime ago!”
He yawned. I wondered whether he would do the conventional yawn and stretch move. I felt his arm around me and smiled like a little girl.
Rayna fished out a party pack of marshmallows out from her gigantic purse she obsessively carries around and everyone started roasting marshmallows by the campfire.
Jeremy was already treating me like his girlfriend, even though we haven’t gone out on a private date yet. He took one marshmallow roasting stick and stuck two marshmallows on. I was about to take a stick for myself when he stopped me and winked. He was already acting like the perfect boyfriend.
Mia and Max were cuddling under a blanket, he was kissing her neck. She eyed me and wriggled her eyebrows. I made silly kissy faces back to her as she and Max started making out again.
Jokingly, Jeremy mocked them too. First he jokingly pecked my cheek. Then I wanted to reciprocate by pecking his cheek when he faced me and my lips landed on his.
Then, it wasn’t mocking anymore.
It wasn’t the aggressive and horny kinds of make out you see in frat parties, nor was it just an innocent and cute Eskimo kiss. It was just passionate and absolutely perfect.
“Jeremy!” Rayna yelled.
Both of us stopped kissing and darted towards Rayna.
“Your marshmallows are past burnt,” she laughed.
I laughed, “We got carried away.”
Jeremy winked at me, discarding the burnt ones and replacing them with new and puffy ones.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” I asked.
“Ditto,” he winked at me.
When the marshmallow was nicely roasted, he let it cool a little before he fed me.
“It’s good!” I said with a mouthful of marshmallow.
He buried his face in my hair and laughed, “You’re adorable.”
After the campfire, Jeremy walked me back to my dorm, kissed me goodnight and said, “Let’s go swimming tomorrow morning.”
I crossed my arms, “So you can show off?”
“Come on, I watched you train for 2 months. Whenever coach isn’t around, you showed off so much!”
“Did not!” I scoffed.
He eyed me playfully.
“Okay, maybe just a little.”
“So we’re on for tomorrow?”
“Of course!” I said pecking his cheek.
“I’ve waited two months for you,” I muttered.
“I’ve waited my entire life for you,” he said, kissing me on the mouth, lingering by as our noses touched.
I leaned in to peck him on the lips once more before I finally closed the door.
The next morning, at 8am sharp, Jeremy knocked on my dorm door.
I was still looking for my swimsuit. Rayna went to stall him. I was pretty sure I brought one swimsuit! I gave up after 5 minutes and wore board shorts and a sports bra.
I shrugged when I saw Jeremy, “I really couldn’t find my swim suit!”
He laughed and produced a swimsuit from inside his USA tracksuit jacket.
“How did you?”
“I had a feeling,” he laughed.
It was a little snug, but it would expand in water.
“Alright, I’m done. Let’s go, Jer!”
He opened the door for me, when Rayna yelled, “Have fun kids!”
“Show me your magic, Jeremy!” I teased.
He took off his USA track suit. He was wearing nearly knee length jammers. His body was sculptured; he looked like God of the Seas, Poseidon—or at least, a really hot and sexy lifeguard at the very least.
“You’re still in such good shape!”
He shrugged, “I didn’t want to get fat after I stopped training so I started working out a lot. It’s really nice to work out without being pressured to win.”
I had never really thought of that. I didn’t want to get fat either!
“I don’t mean to spring my sport on you, but swimming is great recovery for people with injuries.”
“I don’t have injuries,” I replied.
He gave me a look, “You can’t be serious.”
“What?”
“No one trains for the Olympics and doesn’t have injuries, especially gymnasts!”
“Okay, my ankle is kind of sprained...”
“And?”
“One of my toes is broken,” I made a funny face.
“At least three,” he murmured.
“And my back has been killing me lately...”
“Bingo,” he seemed content.
“I haven’t swum proper laps since I was maybe 8,” I confessed.
“Swimming is much easier than gymnastics. It’s much safer too, so don’t worry!” He assured me.
The pool was indoors and the water was freezing cold.
“It’s cold!” I complained.
“You’ll get used to it. Or you could stay really close to me. When I’m warmed up, I’m like Jacob Black,” he joked.
“I’ve always been on Team Jacob,” I teased.
He smirked and dove in the water. It’s so nice to see him in his element. He glided through the water as if he were a majestic merman. Now I sound cheesy.
“Come in!” He insisted.
I was so reluctant. He came out of the pool, drenched in chlorine, ran a hand through his hair and swung me on his shoulders and plunged into the pool.
It was freezing.
“Is it cold?” He asked casually.
“Aren’t you?” I complained, trying to hold on to the lane ropes.
He shrugged, “Come on, go do some laps. You’ll feel better.”
I felt so insecure. I’ve hardly done any sport apart from gymnastics for as long as I can remember. Awkwardly, I waded in the water.
He finished eight laps once I had only managed to somehow finish two.
“I think once you can do laps by yourself, you’ll find swimming really therapeutic,” he said.
I sighed, “I feel like a dog trying to swim.”
“Don’t refer to yourself as a dog. You’re beautiful. I’ll teach you how to swim, if you’d like.”
When he complimented me, the words lingered in my ears. I giggled in my head.
“I’d really like that, Jer.”