Chapter 2
At least half the team was made up of Pearson Scholars, like Ryan. Awarded to high-ranking competitive swimmers with proven academic excellence, the Pearson scholarship covered full tuition and books, with a sizable allowance for living expenses. It was by far the most prestigious scholarship for swimmers in Minnesota—Pearson Scholars were treated like celebrities and envied by the 2,500 students at this small Midwestern college. Back on the farm, at the end of his senior year of high school, Ryan’s parents had thrown him a backyard barbecue when he won the coveted prize—all the other parents shook his hand and told him how they wish their own child was as smart as he was. Now Ryan was a sophomore, struggling with all his schoolwork, while trying to pull his weight on the swim team
“All right, guys!” Coach Ken shouted to be heard as he walked into the locker room, a clipboard in his left hand. “You swam hard today—that’s what I like to see.” The coach paused and looked around at the team. Half of them were already dressed, and half were still mostly naked. Ryan had his socks on with a towel tucked loosely around his waist—he liked to be completely dry before putting on his clothes.
“We have a big season ahead of us, and I think you’re ready for it…” the coach began. Some of the guys whooped and whistled, but Coach Ken held up his hand. “Still, I don’t want any of you getting too comfortable.” The room got quiet. When the coach got serious, everybody shut up. “College sports is not comfortable. Right now, you’re pulling sixty percent—maybe seventy, some of you.” Again, the coach scanned the room. “But I need you at a hundred percent for the U of M meet. Hear that? One hundred percent!”
Out of the blue, a new guy walked into the locker room. Ryan had never seen him before. He was tall and broad, cloaked in an unzipped gray hoodie, with dark brown hair sticking out from his Green Bay Packers baseball cap. His face was square and naturally tan, and he looked a bit taken off guard to find himself surrounded by so many other guys.
“Come on in, Blake—take a seat.” Coach pointed to a spare bench, then raised his voice once more: “One hundred percent! What does that mean? That means giving it all at practice, and then some, and I want you guys to start cross-training on your own time—that means running, lifting, biking, stretching—you name it. Your strength and cardio gotta go way up, guys. I see you back in the water and you think you’re bringing it, but in fact, you’ve been chilling out all summer, and I can tell. Yeah, you lifeguarded at the city pool or whatever.” Coach stared at AJ, who was the managing lifeguard at Lakeside in summer. AJ smirked and flexed a bulging bicep, but coach ignored him. “But summer’s over, friends! We got two weeks to get there—three weeks max. No more breaks, no more chilling, now is the time to give it to me. I wanna see you strong.”
Coach Ken stopped his tirade and wiped his brow. It was warm and wet down in the locker room, and the armpits of his white polo shirt were now soaked with sweat.
“So, you all got that?” he repeated.
“Yeah. Got it, coach,” said AJ.
Ryan nodded along with the other guys. He knew coach did not like a lot of back-banter, and now he felt a little stressed. How the hell was he supposed to find extra time for cross-training?
“Now—just to make sure we’re all on the same page here,” the coach continued, “I’m assigning you pairs. You’re all gonna buddy up for cross-training—push each other and work hard.” Coach looked down at his clipboard and began calling out names. “Hunter, Theo—you’re a pair. Darian and Mason,” Coach made a circle with his finger, “you two are together—sorry guys, but can’t have two brothers in a pair. You might be too soft on each other,” Coach let out a little laugh, then drummed his fingers on his clipboard. “Zach and Jay!” he shouted. “Owen and Erik. AJ, Kyle.” He looked up from his board, and then looked over at Ryan, who wondered why he was last.
“Okay, last thing—Blake, come over here.” The boy in the hoodie and Green Bay cap came forward and nodded at the team, then offered a little wave, before clasping his hands behind his back. Ryan gawked at him, enamored by Blake’s powerful legs, exposed from the edge of his running shoes all the way up to the hem of his brief nylon shorts, draped over his large and unmistakable bulge.