Dealing with It

By Asharia Stone

Published on Oct 5, 2003

Gay

This story is fiction and the results of my deranged mind. It is not intended to resemble anyone else's work or any person that is real. I apologize if it does. If you are not of legal age or this type of material is banned in your area, leave. Easy as that. All criticism is welcome, but be nice. If you like it, please let me know so I can continue. Enjoy.

1 Zane

It had been three weeks into the school year when the posting for swim team tryouts was placed on the bulletin board in the main hallway. I stood there, staring at it, wondering if I should, if I could, even think of trying out. I knew I was a good swimmer. Swimming was my life, my passion. It was one of the few things I excelled at. As much as the thought of swimming for a team thrilled me, the fear of ridicule was greater. I had been living in this town for over a month and had yet to make even one friend. Not to say I didn't talk to anyone, I had acquaintances, people I nodded to as I walked the hallways, but no one to talk with. Most of the student body laughed as I walked past. I was the new guy, the outsider, even more than those who were truly outside. Being new sucked and being alone all the time only made it worse. I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice that someone was beside me until a soft, husky voice asked, "Are you planning on trying out?" I spun around so fast I tripped over my own feet and fell. I could hear my companion chuckle quietly, as if trying to keep me from hearing it. "First time I've even had a cute guy fall at my feet." As I stared at the person in front of me, I couldn't believe that all the guys weren't constantly falling at her feet for a chance at being the center of her attention. My eyes travelled from her feet to the top of her head, cataloguing every detail about her. Her feet were small, legs smooth and well shaped flaring into wide hips before her body curved back into the smallish waist, breast were definitely more than a handful, shoulders small and rounded. Her face was impish, mischievous and full of life. She had full lips, high cheek bones and grey almond shaped eyes. Long, curly black hair complement caramel coloured skin. She was extremely beautiful, and she did nothing for me. I sighed quietly, yeah I was definitely gay. "Are you okay?" she asked, offering me a hand up. As I stood I realized something I hadn't noticed. She was tiny. At 5'10" I'm not a giant, but she barely came to my shoulder. "Didn't mean to startle you." "S'okay, should have been paying attention anyway. And yeah, I'm thinking about trying out. Heard the school's supposed to have one of the best teams." "Yeah, it does. Oh, I'm Ciana, by the way." "Zane." "I know," she smiled at me without explaining. "How?" I asked. I didn't anyone here really knew my name. Those who knew who I was knew my by sight, not by name. "You're the only new junior, all the rest are freshmen. Believe it or not, but the whole junior class knows who you are." Ciana stated. Everyone in my grade knew who I was? Somehow that sounded a bit farfetched to me. "Only thing is, most are too snobbish to even think to welcome you. I've tried to a couple times, but you were either gone before I got to you or I'd be waylaid by someone." "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but why would you want to talk to me?" I exclaimed. I had been snubbed and shunned for three weeks and before me stood someone who supposedly had been trying to talk to me. I didn't really believe it. "Well, for one because I'm part of the Welcoming Committee and two cause I'm a nice person. My brother says our mother must have dropped me on my head as a baby, but she denies it." Ciana smiled as she said this, showing perfect white teeth. "Anyhow, you seem like a nice guy, can't a girl just stop and say hi?" "Maybe your mother did drop you on your head, cause I'm not a nice guy," I responded, smiling as well. Ciana laughed before continuing. "Well, are you going to try out?" She had returned to the original topic. "Not sure," I admitted. "I'm kinda nervous about it. Don't really know if I have what it takes." "Nervous is understandable. Should see me before tryouts, recitals or anything in front of people. But anyone who tries out makes the team. Coach Henderson doesn't cut unless you do something really stupid. You may not get to compete in the meets, but you'll still be on the team." She told me, all joking gone from her face. "I gotta be going, I have my own tryouts." I stood there thinking about what she had told me as she walked away. Everyone that comes out makes the team. It sounded fanciful but I remembered hearing something about that when I applied to the school. Steeling myself, I decided to go for it; I had nothing to lose after all. The pool was located in the basement of the school. A generous alumnus had donated the money to build it several years ago and now the school made use of it nearly everyday for the gyms classes and swim teams. I made my way down, not quite sure what I would find since I had never actually ventured into the bowels of the school before. The comforting smell of chlorine hit me before I even saw the door mark "pool." Inside were around fifty students laughing and talking, all still dressed in street clothes. Looking at them I wondered if we would be swimming today or not. I moved to where a couple of guys were standing, all silent and waited for the coach. I wasn't waiting long when a large man exited the office. "All right, today is the sign up and trials. Which means sign up, grab a suit, you're on the swim team!" he said, addressing the group of kids standing in front of him. "For those newcomers, all you've heard is true. If you sign up, you're on the team. I only cut those who do something stupid and dangerous, or let their grades slip below a C+. Suit are located in the locker rooms, grab them and a locker. First practice is tomorrow morning at six thirty sharp. Be here ready to swim." With that the coach turned and walked back into the office, leaving the student who knew him laughing and the rest bewildered. I followed the returning team members into the locker room at a distance, still not sure if I was ready for this. Inside the room were around thirty teenage guys joking and just fucking around. Speedos were being thrown across the room to those who shouted out sizes and lockers were being claimed at an alarming rate. "Size?" A voice asked beside me. I looked over to see a blonde haired god standing before me. I know that sounds a bit cliche but he was gorgeous. He was a little taller than me with the sleek, slim body of someone who runs and swims instead of weightlifting. Electric blue eyes stared out from behind rimless glasses and shaggy blonde bangs. "What size?" He repeated. "Um, medium I guess," I replied, still in a daze. Guess I was joining the swim team after all. Two swim suits were placed in my hands before he moved on and I was left staring at his backside as he walked away. And it was a nice backside too. When everyone had their suits, he turned around and addressed the crowd. "I'm one of the assistant coaches, my name is Alex Mendun. You will actually deal more with me than with Coach Henderson. I'll let you know I'm strict but fair. Don't fuck up and you'll swim in a meet at least once this year. Got it? Good. Be here ready to swim tomorrow morning six thirty." And with that I was an official member of the swim team.

Next: Chapter 2


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