Page 36

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

GARRET

I drive through town going way too fast, not slowing down until I reach the campus and spot a Camsburg cop at the security gate. It’s not like the rent-a-cop could really do anything to me but I’d rather not start the school year with some stupid traffic violation.

I pull in front of the gym and turn the car off and just sit for a moment. I’m so pissed right now. If Coach would’ve just left me alone this morning, today would be going totally different. I’d be home making pancakes for Jade instead of feeling like shit that I left her there wondering what the hell’s going on with me. But I can’t tell her. I can’t talk to her about this. I need to deal with this alone. This is my issue, not hers.

I did this to myself and now I need to face it.

I fucked my shoulder up. Big time. And I’ve been avoiding dealing with it for months now. It all started after I got shot by Royce last year. I got shot in the upper chest but the damage spread up to my shoulder. The doctor acted like it was no big deal. He injected something in my shoulder that speeds tissue growth so you heal faster. And it was working, but then I went back to lifting weights when I wasn’t supposed to and my shoulder started hurting again.

Last January, I went in for some tests and the doctor said my shoulder had more damage than he originally thought. I didn’t tell him I was the cause of that. I just let him think he misread the original tests. He injected more of that stuff into my shoulder but there wasn’t anything else he could do for it. It’s one of those things where you just have to give it time to heal. Something about tendons and tissue and how the blood flow to the shoulder isn’t the same as other parts of the body.

I wasn’t really listening to everything the doctor said. I probably should’ve had my dad there to listen for me, but I didn’t. I wanted to handle this myself. I didn’t want him, or anyone else, knowing what was wrong because if they knew, they’d force me to stop swimming and stop working out. And I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to rest. I just wanted to get back to normal.

I figured if I just worked out more, my shoulder would get better. But it didn’t. It only got worse. It didn’t help matters that I skipped out on most of my physical therapy appointments. The exercises they gave me didn’t seem to do anything so I stopped going. The therapist told me the exercises work over time but I wasn’t patient enough to wait. And I didn’t want Jade thinking I was taking forever to heal. She already feels guilty about what happened. She blames herself for my injury, like it was somehow her fault that Royce came after us that day. Like it was her fault he tried to kill us.

I hate that she feels guilty about that. After it happened I had to constantly remind her that it wasn’t her fault I got shot. I chose to push her to the ground when the gun went off. She had nothing to do with it. And there was nothing she could’ve done to stop my actions that day. I was prepared for whatever would’ve happened to me. As soon as I saw that gun in Royce’s hand, my only thought was to protect Jade. I don’t regret what I did. I’d do it again today.

But now I’m left with this injury that refuses to heal. If I told Jade, she’d blame herself. She’d say it’s all her fault, which is not even close to the truth. If I’d just taken care of this like the doctor told me to, taking time to rest, going to physical therapy, my shoulder would be back to normal now. The doctor said it takes a year to fully heal so maybe it wouldn’t be completely back to normal, but it would be a hell of a lot closer than it is now.

I get out of the car, slamming the door shut. My body is wound tight and I need to release the tension. Punch something. Kick something. I just need to get this out of me.

The gym is mostly empty except for a few guys over at the weight machines. I show my ID to the guy at the counter.

He doesn’t even look at it. “Go ahead.”

This college is supposed to have great security. After that little encounter, I’m not feeling like it’s that secure.

I run on the treadmill to warm up my muscles. I can’t stand the treadmill. I always feel like a hamster on a wheel, watching that belt move under my feet and running but not going anywhere. I don’t like the feeling of not going anywhere. I like to constantly move forward. And now I feel like I’m moving backward, at least when it comes to my college swim career.

Maybe I should just forget the whole thing. Swimming consumed my life in high school. It doesn’t need to consume my life in college. I’m married now. I have better things to do with my time. Besides, I knew the swimming would end once college ended. It’s not like I’m training for the Olympics here. It’s just a sport. A hobby.

Yeah, right. I can tell myself that all I want, but it’s not true. Swimming isn’t just a hobby. It’s everything to me. It’s part of me. My mom was a swimmer, both in high school and in college. She’s the one who got me started in it. She had me in the water when I was just a baby and I’ve been swimming ever since.

My mom never pushed me to be on a team. She just wanted me to be able to swim. She said swimming is a survival skill and that everyone should know how to swim. She went to school with a kid who died in third grade because he fell in a lake and didn’t know how to swim. She told me that story when I was really young and it still makes me sad. Who doesn’t know how to swim? How could you be in third grade and not know how? As I got older I realized that not everyone grows up with access to a pool or swim instruction, so it makes sense but it sucks that people are dying because they don’t have this basic skill.

But swimming was more than a basic skill to me. I liked doing it. It was fun and I felt at home in the water, probably because I spent so much time in the pool with my mom. I was five when I started racing other kids in the pool at the local Y. After my first race, I was hooked. I loved the competition and I begged my mom to teach me how to be a better swimmer. She taught me some stuff, but it’s hard to teach your own kid how to do something, especially when she needed to get tough with me and point out my mistakes. So she hired a swim coach for me and that’s when I got really good.

After my mom died, the pool became my sanctuary. I’d go to the pool at my school and swim for hours. My dad noticed how much time I spent there and that’s why, when he built the new house, he put an indoor pool in there. I thought I was the only one who used it but sometimes I caught my dad in there in the middle of the night, just kind of floating. I think it’s because the water reminded him of my mom. I didn’t realize that back then, but I do now.

“Hey, could you spot me?”

I look over and see a dark-haired guy wearing navy shorts and a gray Camsburg t-shirt standing next to the treadmill. He’s sweaty and his stench is filling the area around me. I really don’t want to spot him but I notice the gym is empty now and I get the feeling the guy will keep bothering me until I do.

“I’ll wait until you’re done,” he says, noticing my hesitation.

“That’s okay. I’m done.” I shut the treadmill off and follow him to the free weights.

“Are you new here?” he asks. “You don’t look familiar.”

“Yeah, I transferred in. I’m a sophomore.”

He extends his hand. “Welcome. I’m Kyle. I’m a junior.”

“Garret.” I shake his hand.

“You play any sports?”

I almost say yes but then realize my mistake. “No. I played sports in high school but I don’t anymore. How about you?”

“Football. I’ve got practice later. I come in here and do weights in the mornings.”

“How’s the team?”

He laughs. “We suck. But that doesn’t mean we don’t try.”

“What position do you play?”

“Quarterback.” He wipes his hand over his forehead, dropping sweat on the floor.

“Star of the team, huh?”

He shakes his head. “Hardly. I told you we suck, right?”

“I was quarterback in high school. Our team totally sucked, too.” I smile. “But you still get the benefits of being quarterback, right?”

He smiles back. “Yeah, you do.”

It’s true. No matter how bad the team, the quarterback gets perks, like popularity and an endless supply of girls. And if your team is good, you get a lot more than that.

“I just need to do three sets.” He lies down on the bench and positions his hands on the barbell. “Ready?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

I spot him, then wait for him to rest between each set. As he does, he tells me more about the football team and a little about himself. He’s from LA and his parents are attorneys who handle high-profile celebrity cases. His parents always have the press following them around and Kyle hates it. He came to Camsburg to get away from the media circus that constantly surrounds his parents.

“You want to do some sets?” He wipes the bench down with a towel.

I haven’t bench-pressed since last April but I’m here to work out so I might as well. “Yeah, I guess I could.”

“You want me to change the weights?”

“No, what you’ve got on there is fine.” I wrap my hands around the bar and lift it off the stand. The weight feels heavy. I used to bench 200 all the time but it’s been a while and my muscles need time to adjust. My body feels strong and I know I’m in good shape from all the surfing I did last summer, but that uses different muscles than what I’m using now.

I do 10 reps and feel okay. I rest for a minute, then start another set and on the fifth rep my form gets off and I feel a sharp twinge in my shoulder. “Shit!”

Kyle catches the bar before I drop it. “You okay?”

I sit up and circle my shoulder, the pain now a dull ache. “Yeah. I think I’m done.”

“Okay, well, I need to head out. Thanks for your help.”

“No problem.”

He starts to leave, then turns around. “I’m having a party tonight if you want to come meet some people. It’s mostly guys from the team.” He smiles. “And there’ll be plenty of girls. This time of year it’s mostly townies. Most of the Camsburg girls aren’t on campus yet. But the townies can show you a good time.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” I grab a towel from the stack next to the weights.

“You got a girlfriend?”

“Actually, I’m married.”

He laughs. “You’re shittin’ me, right?”

“No. I’m married.”

“How the hell old are you? I thought you said you’re a sophomore.”

“I’m 20.”

He’s staring at me like I’m the first alien to land on Earth. I hadn’t considered that people might react this way to my being married. Sean and Harper didn’t make a big deal out of it but I realize now that strangers might find it odd.

“You’re seriously married? And you’re only 20?” He nods, knowingly. “I get it. You knocked her up. So you did the right thing. That’s good, man. I don’t think I could do that.”

“I didn’t knock her up.” I don’t elaborate, but I shouldn’t have to. He shouldn’t make assumptions like that. A guy can get married without getting a girl pregnant.

My shoulder hurts now and this guy’s starting to annoy me. I’ve lost all interest in working out.

“I need to go.” It comes out sounding like I’m angry.

Kyle steps closer. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to be rude or anything. I was just a little shocked by the whole marriage thing. Forget it. I’m sorry. Whatever works, right? Is she in school here?”

“Yeah, she’s also a sophomore.”

“So bring her to the party tonight.”

“I don’t think we can make it, but thanks for asking.”

“Let me give you my number in case you change your mind.”

We exchange numbers and he gives me his address. I go back to my car, not sure if I’m ready to go home yet. I’m starving because I skipped breakfast, so I drive through town and stop at a burger place. I take my food to the tables outside. As I’m eating, Jade calls.

“Are you still at the gym?”

“No, I’m done. I just stopped to get something to eat.”

“Oh.” She sounds sad and a little disappointed. “Okay, well, I’m done cleaning and since you already ate, I think I’ll go for a run.”

Shit. I told her I’d have lunch with her. I totally forgot. Dammit. Now she’s going to think I’m avoiding her or rejecting her or hiding something from her. And I am hiding something from her but it doesn’t have anything to do with her and she’ll assume it does.

I have to be careful with Jade because there’s still that part of her that doesn’t trust people. And although I know she trusts me, I also know that her mind tends to conjure up scenarios that are nowhere near the truth. She always blames herself for shit. She always assumes she’s the problem. She always thinks people don’t like her or are rejecting her. She’d never admit that, but I know her better than anyone and to me it’s painfully obvious.

“Jade. I’m sorry. I forgot about lunch. I just sat down. I won’t eat. I’ll come home right now and we’ll eat together.”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Just eat. I had a late breakfast so I don’t need lunch. I’m going on a run. I’ll see you when I get back.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. We’ll do something later.”

“You already ran this morning. Why are you running again?”

“I just feel like it. I didn’t go that far this morning.”

“I’m coming home right after I eat. Why don’t you just wait and I’ll go with you?”

“You don’t want to run. Besides, you just worked out. I’ll see you soon. Love you.” She hangs up before I say goodbye.

Fuck. I’ve screwed this whole day up. I wanted to spend it with Jade, relaxing, checking out the town. But instead we’re apart. I took off and left her there and now she’s running because she’s upset and doesn’t know what’s going on with me.

But I’m not ready to tell her. Maybe I’ll tell her tomorrow, once I know for sure whether or not I’m on the team. Because who knows? Maybe my shoulder will be okay tomorrow and I’ll be able to swim. It’s not like that hasn’t happened before. All last year I was able to fake it at practice. I just couldn’t compete in the meets. Maybe if I just push through the pain, I can show the coach I’m good enough for the team and then I can work on getting my shoulder in shape for when the season starts.

I take a bite of the burger but I’m no longer hungry. I feel like shit. I keep hearing Jade’s voice in my head, the disappointment in her tone. I don’t like disappointing her. And yet I feel like I keep doing it.