I pulled supplies out of my dinner jacket’s pocket and made short work of suiting up. No discussion of our debate about his Truvada, my undetectable viral loads, or riding dirty. We spent too much time on that as it was. I was in charge, and that meant condoms. Wrap it before you tap it and all that.
Even with Michael’s pants below the swell of his glorious backside, I moved quickly. I couldn’t bear to leave him shivering, not from cold, at any rate.
“Rem….”
“I’ve got you.” I plunged slicked fingers into him, loosening him for the ride ahead. Michael sighed in contentment, but I knew it was only temporary. I added more lube, gently working it in.
“You ready?” I positioned myself at his entrance.
He shoved himself back on me, and my head swam. “That answer your question?”
Michael was tight and couldn’t handle the hard-shove-and-in method, no matter how horned up he thought he was. I took my time and made him beg. It sounded so pretty.
“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you?”
“Move, damn you!”
So I did. Even though I was in him, Michael still topped me. While he might’ve been hesitant about asking for what he wanted and needed earlier, he appeared to have gotten over it.
“Right… there! Yes! Keep doing that.”
Neither of us would last long, and maybe we didn’t need to. We were sneaking around at a high school formal neither of us had any business attending and doing the deed in an obscure corner of the school. It was so hot.
So I pistoned in and out of Michael like we both wanted and needed. There was no art, just taking my boyfriend where he needed to go that night, where he had asked me to take him, where I wanted us to go.
“Almost there, Rem.”
“Right behind you.”
He cried out, and then I did. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him as we came down.
“Right behind me? Really, Rem?” Michael said as I slipped out of him.
I tied the condom off and pocketed it until I could find a trashcan. “I said that?”
“You did.” Michael kissed my nose as he tucked his shirts in.
“That was horrible.”
Once we were again dressed and presentable to the world—Michael had to retie my bowtie for me—I checked to make sure we would be unobserved. Sure that no one would scope us out, we slipped out of our love nest. Just two guys taking a stroll, right?
“Feel better?” I asked Michael.
He kissed my cheek. “Much. You said something about a backup plan?”
“You’ll think it’s stupid.” Honestly, I couldn’t think where I dug up my ideas sometimes. The bottom of the river?
“Not if you don’t tell me what it is.”
He had a point.
That was how we ended up in a sketchy theater in Sacramento dancing the Time Warp with a fine selection of our fellow misfit toys. Because The Rocky Horror Picture Show in formalwear? It was an immoral imperative.
WE WERE in the middle of finals, Michael and I, and our “dates” consisted of studying together. Parallel play for the win!
True to her word, after a conversation that Monday morning with him, the Gutslinger let Michael off the hook with a withering lecture about the foolishness of sneaking into the junior class’s prom. We were both banned from the senior class’s formal dance in the spring. Tiresome as that might be, neither of us felt the need to bother the Castelreighs with that. After all, we’d already been to mine and could always claim to be danced out. I already had plans to take him to an eighteen-and-over club in San Francisco the minute he turned legal.
The only blowback I experienced from crashing the prom was a summons from Coach Ridgewood. She called me into her office one afternoon toward the end of the semester. I found Coach Pendergast waiting for me. That couldn’t possibly be good.
“I had the weirdest phone call from a vice principal at Davis High a few weeks ago. What on earth was that about?” she asked.
All I could do was sigh as I stood there in front of my coaches. “Long or short answer?”
“Short.”
“My boyfriend thought it’d fun to crash a formal dance. Hilarity ensued. She thought I was responsible for bringing drugs, but I told her the kids could and did do it all by themselves. So long as my random pee tests were clean, she said she’d let it go. I went to Davis High myself, so she knows my word’s good.”
Pendergast shifted in his seat, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “You’re dating someone in high school?”
“I was in high school when we started going out.” I shrugged. “I didn’t see any point to breaking up simply because I graduated.” I couldn’t tell if that mollified my coaches or not. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, not at all. I just thought it was a strange call to receive.” Ridgewood moved a few stacks of paper around on her desk, although why I noticed that, I didn’t know.
“It was a strange conversation to sit through. Come to think of it, the whole evening was a little off-key, but I’m willing to bet that’s not why you called me in.” I shifted uncomfortably. Could they maybe move this along?
“No, it wasn’t. Have a seat, Remy.” Pendergast nudged a seat in my direction with his foot. He stared at me for a few moments. It was an appraising look. I’d received a few of those in my life, and they never made me comfortable. “It’s not a secret, I don’t think, that we’ve all had our eyes on you.”
I blinked. “Actually, no. I didn’t notice. As my brother or boyfriend or even my parents will tell you, if it’s not made of carbon fiber, it’s probably not on my radar. So okay, yes, I saw you both huddled with someone in Boston, and yes, Peter Lodestone talked to people about me both at the Crew Classic in San Diego and at the Youth Nationals, but nothing ever seemed to come of it, and I couldn’t row it, so I ignored it, you know?”
Ridgewood and Pendergast looked at each and nodded. “That explains a lot,” she said.
“You’d be surprised how wrong you are about that, Remy. Lodestone spoke to both Joanne and myself in San Diego and at the Nationals in Lake Natoma, and both she and I paid a great deal of attention to your performance at the Nationals back east.”
Ridgewood settled back in her chair. “That’s what we want to talk to you about—those people observing you. You started as a JV walk-on. It happens, but not often. The thing is, you’re outgrowing JV, too.”
“Oh.” I hardly knew what to say to that. “Um… thanks?”
Pendergast laughed. “He’s totally unaware of exactly how good he is.”
“That’s the only thing that makes it tolerable, Frank.” Ridgewood turned her attention back to me. “What we propose is this, Remy: you’ll continue to scull in the afternoons with me, but in the mornings you row with Coach Pendergast in the big boats.”
“This is something of an experiment,” Pendergast said. “We’ve never had a rower straddle two squads like this, but we’ve never had a rower with a chance at the Under 23 National Team, either.”
I stared at him, then jerked my head around to look at Ridgewood. “I… wait, what? I couldn’t have heard you right.”
“To which?” Ridgewood laughed. “I threw a lot at you.”
“All of it?” Seriously, my mind defaulted to the test pattern. But they were wrong about one thing. I knew I could row, but hearing others say it freaked me out.
Pendergast leaned forward. “Some of those people watching you, not only in Boston but at both Youth Nationals, were from USRowing. They like what they’ve seen, Remy, and they like the progress you’ve made. Right now, you’re not there yet. But we think you could be by June. That’s when the next selection camp will be held.”
I sat back in my chair, stunned. The U23 team. My gears spun.
“Now here’s the deal,” Ridgewood said. “Here’s the Real Talk. We’re not being entirely altruistic, although we’re obviously invested in your potential. CalPac’s a new program as far as these things go. We’ve got money, and
we’re making a name for ourselves based on what Nick Bedford started, but you’re the first rower with this kind of potential we’ve had. You’re the chance we’ve been waiting for to establish CalPac in the first rank of rowing programs like Cal or the University of Washington or the Ivies. Helping you go the distance means we go the distance with you.”
I nodded slowly. “That seems fair.”
“It is, basically,” Pendergast said. “The NCAA has a bad rep where student athletes are concerned—”
“Entirely deserved, in my opinion,” Ridgewood said.
“Unfortunately, yes.” Pendergast sighed. “We’d be walking a fine line with you in twice-a-day training even when the rest of the team isn’t. We plan to work with the human performance lab on campus to keep a close eye on your lactate levels, among other things, to keep you from being overtrained. This wouldn’t be easy, but I think this could be rewarding for all of us.”
“If you do this, we’d like to contact your academic advisor to bring her into the loop. Can we do that?” Ridgewood said.
“I think we’d have to.” That sounded safe to say, but then again, my mouth was back to the test pattern since my brain had cha-cha’d off to parts unknown.
“So what else do I need to know?” I said.
Pendergast handed me a packet. “This is USRowing’s information about U23 selection. Read it. Become one with it.”
“In there you’ll find information about the declaration of intent to compete, plus some other things you’ll need to look over, including a stringent code of conduct. You seem like a straight arrow, so it shouldn’t be a problem, odd calls from your old high school aside.” Ridgewood handed me another, smaller packet. “You’ll note here that the selection camp is in late June, and the Worlds are in late July. You have a little time to think, but don’t wait too long. You’re good, but you’ll need to be great.”
I nodded slowly. Why was it I could never stay still? There was always something to yank the rug out from under me, right? For once I wanted to lead a more sedate life. Living out the Plan with Michael, where we rowed our seats without worrying about setting the world ablaze, where we finished college without complications like brooding roommates or colleges that weren’t what we’d hoped, where psychological damage never showed its ugly face, disapproving parents didn’t poo-poo our relationship, that was what I wanted.
But what fun would that be?
If I accepted their challenge. For once, I needed to think about something related to crew. “When do you need an answer?”
“When you come back from winter break,” Pendergast said.
Ridgewood nodded her approval. “I’m glad you didn’t jump at this. While it’s a tremendous opportunity, it’s also a serious commitment.”
“Something else to consider is the cost.” Pendergast made a face. “I hate talking about money. Yes, the school has money, and yes, the rowing program has it, too, but this will cost a fair amount out of pocket. You’ll need a coach lined up, too, and you’ll need to pay him or her. Start thinking about who you want. Don’t rule out Lodestone just because he was your high school coach.”
That surprised me. “You’d let Lodestone have a hand in this?”
“He took you to the Youth Nationals,” Ridgewood said. “Twice. You obviously respond well to him. We’re in uncharted waters here. Neither Frank nor I are going to let ego get in the way, and at the end of it all, when your name’s listed in the program, it’s going to say California Pacific after it.”
“What if I don’t make it?” I chewed on a fingernail, because despite their opinions, this sounded like a long shot to me.
Pendergast grinned. “That’s the beauty of it—you’re eighteen. Even if you don’t make it, you’ll still be on USRowing’s radar. Seriously, Remy, you already have their attention, but this will make sure they’ll watch you very, very closely for the foreseeable future. And you can keep trying for five more years.”
“Since you’ll have to submit qualifying scores for 2k and 6k erg tests, this will include a strict regimen of strength training and aerobic conditioning,” Ridgewood continued. “I think we’d want to monitor you quite closely, including things like diet and sleep. To an extent, we’ll all be making this up as we go along. Sure, Frank and I will consult the more experienced coaches on the national team, but this will be a lot of firsts for all of us.”
I’d have to disclose my serostatus, I realized, because this would push anyone to the edge, let alone someone with my condition. I wondered if that would make a difference. Should I tell them now or later? Maybe I should talk to my own doctors before I made up my mind….
Then I realized they were talking again.
“…Selection takes place over five days in late June, so it shouldn’t even interfere with your summer plans.”
“Oh oh oh,” Ridgewood said, “something else to keep in mind… if you make it, USRowing will pick up the costs for the world championships with exception for airfare and hotel.”
I sighed. “That means more private funding, right?”
“Yes.” Pendergast grimaced again, apparently at the thought of money. “But if you make the world championships, I can almost guarantee you that I’ll be able to shake scholarship money out of the alumni oversight committee.”
“You’d be the first from CalPac to make it that far, Remy,” Ridgewood said. “In a few short years, CalPac will have gone from fielding a single eight at the Pac Ten to sending a rower to the U23 world championships. They’ll cough up, trust me. Frank may not like to talk about money, but if it comes to it, I’ll have no problem juicing those people like ripe oranges.”
Pendergast looked at the time. “Listen, we’ve sprung a lot on you that you need to think about, and I have to be somewhere in thirty minutes. Think about this, talk to your family, talk to your boyfriend, and anyone else who can help you put it in perspective, like Peter Lodestone. Then give us your answer when you come back from the holidays.”
“For that matter, if you come to a definite decision—a definite considered decision—over the break, let us know, but the one thing we insist on is that you think about this long and hard.” Ridgewood stood up, extending her hand. “I know how you work. Go sculling. You do your best thinking out there.”
I laughed as I shook my coach’s hand, and then Pendergast’s. I guess he was my coach now, too. “Guilty as charged.”
I walked slowly toward the locker room, quiet now during the off-season. So much to think about. I pulled out my phone to text Michael. Even if he were in class, he’d find the text waiting.
R: I need 2 talk.
Then I walked into the locker room, feeling like I’d stepped into someone else’s life.
Chapter 13
MICHAEL KNEW me so well. When he found my text and couldn’t raise me, he drove out to CalPac’s boathouse and made himself comfortable.
“Thanks for waiting,” I said as I walked out of the locker room.
He gave me a long hug. “I’m surprised you went out.”
“It wasn’t this foggy when I launched, and I had a lot to think about.” I sighed.
“That’s what I suspected, given your text and subsequent vanishing act. I texted Coach Lodestone to see if he knew what was up, but his sphinxlike response only told me that he did and that I should come find you.” Michael shook his head. “One of these days he’ll come right out and answer a question, and then I swear all of his teeth will fall out from the shock or something.”
We wandered out to the CalPac dock to stare at the now-glassy water, once again undisturbed since I’d brought my equipment back to the boathouse. We sat down on a bench, and I filled him in on my coaches’ perhaps Faustian proposal.
His eyes round with surprise, he could only say, “Wow.”
“That’s one word, yes.” I stared out at the water, my mind starting to churn again.
“Um… that’s fantastic?”
I tried not to think about the implications. “I guess.”
Michael gently turned my chin so I faced him. “Don’t shut me out, Rem. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m not shutting you out, Michael.” I smiled, or at least tried. “I’m… yeah. Overwhelmed. This is huge. I don’t know what to think, or even where to start thinking about it.”
“First of all, I know you, maybe better than you know yourself. Right now, this very moment, stop thinking that you don’t deserve this. Because you do. No one works harder at this sport than you. I know that, your teammates know that, and so do your coaches. Lodestone’s always known it.”
“How do you always know what to say?” I whispered.
He kissed me softly. “I know you. So what you’re going to do now is accept the fact that this is something you’re capable of doing—or will be with the kind of training I know your coaches will dish out—and think about whether or not this is something you want to do.”
“It’s going to cost a fortune.”
“Define fortune.”
“I don’t have exact numbers, although they’re surely in one of the two packets Ridgewood and Pendergast gave me, but above and beyond some of my expenses, I’m responsible for my coach’s expenses, too,” I said. “While the school will cover some of it, CalPac probably won’t pony up if I tap Lodestone.”
Michael looked surprised. “They’d let you?”
“So they said. As they pointed out, he took me to two Nationals.” If I’d had to choose now, I’d choose Lodestone. Not that I’d asked him. Or told him. But I’d known him for five years, whereas I’d known Ridgewood and Pendergast for a handful of months.
“A fair point.” He put his arm around me.
I rested my head on Michael’s shoulder, taking solace in his presence. I hoped he found something in mine, otherwise my parents would be right. How could I give this up?
“So it’ll be expensive, time consuming, and exhausting,” Michael said. “Sounds right up your alley.”
“That about sums it up, yes.” I smiled. “So yes, I’ll be rather busy over break. Speaking of break, what’re you doing for yours?”
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