Swim Coach: A Novel

by Sam E. Kraemer

  "Please call me Eve. What was your biggest worry with regard to…I assume you mean penetrative sex, right?" I nodded, feeling my face flame.

  I didn't look at her, but I gave her question extensive consideration as I counted the leaves on the rose bush I was pruning. I was looking for five, and she was right. Having something to do with my hands made it a lot easier to talk about things.

  "I was worried I would hurt him," I answered honestly.

  "And did you?" she asked, nonplussed.

  "Amazingly, no. He told me he enjoyed it, and I have to believe him."

  "Do you see, based on this experience, a normal sexual encounter with someone about whom you care is nothing like what you experienced?" Her question was like a smack in the face.

  I sighed and closed my eyes. "I do now, but based on the fact I'd never had many sexual encounters and was actually, technically, a virgin when it happened, it was hard to see it wouldn't be awful. My boyfriend was able to show me that wasn't the case," I responded, turning back to the rose bush.

  Eve patted my shoulder and went about pruning more rose bushes. We talked about my school schedule then and the best times for us to talk over the phone. She’d suggested finding me a therapist in Seattle, but I’d decided too many people knew my story and I wasn’t ready to widen the circle anytime soon. Thankfully, she accepted my response of “not yet.”

  "God, how bad was it? I forgot how masculine Eve can be. I honestly don’t know her that well, having only met her a few times at some charity things, but Mom says she has a remarkable way with people who have suffered from…uh," he faded.

  I knew the rest of the sentence so I smiled. “She does. I’m not looking forward to the sessions, but if I have to do them, it’s better I do them with someone I don’t know very well, I’m coming to think.” He took my hands from his ass and led me out of the guest bathroom. We were ready to go pick up his friends. I was wearing his clothes…a pair of his slacks, charcoal gray, and a light blue button-down shirt. He'd picked it out, and I was quite happy with it.

  "I really like Eve. She didn’t push me to give her definitive answers to her questions, and she gave me a lot of things to think about. She also gave me homework. We'll talk about it another time, okay? I'm just ready to show off my boyfriend." He leaned forward and kissed my lips after I finished.

  I followed his gorgeous ass down the stairs, quite pleased with how he looked in the black slacks and lilac-colored shirt. I wasn't sure what kind of club it was, but based on the way we were dressed, I hoped it wasn't too wild. It would be my first time at a club, and I was a little worried about it.

  His parents were eating dinner, so we stopped in the kitchen to say goodnight. "We're off. Don't wait up," he told his parents.

  "I won't bail you out. You know my stance," Jean-Luc stated firmly.

  Andre sighed. "Yes, Père, I remember the incredible night I spent in the lock-up in Seattle before I could get a friend to bail me out. I had to pull the money from my savings to pay him back, so I don't plan on wasting more money on bail. We're going out with Gia and Chelsea, so it's not going to be a wild night," he assured.

  I felt like shit about his arrest because it happened because of me. "I'll pay you back," I told him quietly. I could see the look on Jean-Luc's face at my words, and he was immediately contrite.

  "Did you…was it…you didn't tell us why." Les was stammering, and I wanted to die.

  Andre grabbed my hand and held it tightly. "It doesn't matter why. It happened, and I've dealt with it. We'll see you in the morning for breakfast."

  He pulled me out of the house, only allowing me to call out a goodbye before he closed the front door. "Just forget about that crap. We're going to have fun tonight, and I refuse to let that shit get in the way of it. So, about Chels and Gia. They're extremely demonstrative…to the point where they'll draw attention just trying to piss people off. Best advice…ignore them and walk away like you don't know them. That's what I always do when they get embarrassing."

  We climbed into the SUV and he drove us down the block to another huge estate. We got out after he parked the vehicle, and we walked up to the front door. Andre rang the bell and leaned forward to kiss me just as it opened.

  I turned to see a man in a suit standing there, waiting for us to greet him. "Randall, we're here to call for Gia and Chelsea," he stated.

  "Of course, Mr. Dupree. They're on the terrace having cocktails. Shall I summon a taxi, sir?"

  "Give us thirty minutes. I want Colton to meet Renata and Gregory. Are they here?" Andre asked.

  "Of course, sir. They're outside."

  The man closed the door and started ushering us toward a set of French doors. "Randall, I know the way. Thank you."

  "Of course, sir." He turned and left us. I looked at Andre and he laughed. "He's the butler. Get ready to meet the pretentious Hollywood types. Now, a little background. Renata's from Alabama. She took diction lessons to rid herself of the accent, so she sounds a lot like Madonna now.

  "Gregory is from Miami. I've heard he started out in the business as a producer of porn videos, but now he's this prima donna Hollywood producer. Thankfully, Gia is entertaining. Do not, I repeat, do not get freaked out. They are just like you and me."

  I laughed because he was nothing like me. I was a kid from Texas who moved around a lot and ended up in a town the population of the crew of an aircraft carrier. He, well, he was something else entirely.

  He opened the door and eased into a personality I'd never seen in my life. He held my hand and pulled me behind him, greeting the couple. "Greg, Renata, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Colton Wixsom. Colton, this is Renata and Gregory Collins. Those two over there who are quite inappropriately making out are Gianna Collins and Chelsea Harrelson. Ladies, pull it out, will ya."

  I laughed, as did Gianna's parents. "What can I get you, boys, to drink?" the father asked.

  "I'll have a Johnny Walker on the rocks. Babe," he asked as he turned to me. I wasn't a liquor drinker by any stretch, so I swallowed hard.

  "If you have any beer, that's fine. Otherwise, just a club soda," I requested.

  "Ah, a simple man. Remarkable." The man strolled over to a refrigerator and pulled out three beers, walking back to me.

  "What's your pleasure, Colton?" He held up a domestic, a stout import, and a Mexican beer. Me, being the "simple man" chose the domestic.

  "Thank you, sir."

  The man laughed and went to pour Andre a drink. "Now, drop that nonsense. I think I'll join you. Ren's French champagne isn't exactly to my liking." He opened the Mexican beer and went to a little dish, pulling a lime wedge from it and slipping it into the neck of the bottle.

  He walked over to where Andre was standing next to me, talking to the wife, and he handed him the drink. "Andre, have you thought about my offer?"

  Andre turned and offered a fake smile. "Greg, I still have a year of undergrad and then another year for my master's. I've already got an internship lined up for next semester, so I'm not ready to sign a contract to work for your production company." It was fucking news to me.

  "My money guy is old and I'm looking for someone to take his place. You're shrewd, Andre. This could be your ticket," the man replied.

  I’m so fucking stupid. He was set to have a bright future, and I was so naïve I hadn't even begun thinking about mine. I was just starting a college career. The ideas of a future with him were ridiculous, and in that moment, I knew it.

  I turned to the woman, Renata, who looked to be pretty hammered. "Mrs. Collins, you have a lovely home," I offered.

  She giggled. "Oh, you boys always love our home. I guess you have ideas about how you'd decorate it differently? Well, come on, darling. Give me your opinions," she responded as she took my arm and began leading me away.

  "Ren, sorry, but we need to go. Maybe another time. Chels, Gia, if you're going, come on," Andre demanded, rescuing me from the mother, for which I was grateful.

  The two girls finally se
parated themselves and walked over to us. "You're the hot boy toy I spoke with? The one he goes on about all the time?" the one I assumed was Gia greeted. I didn't appreciate her comment at all.

  "I believe I told you I wasn't a boy toy," I stated, feigning confidence. I was out of my fucking league, but I wouldn't let it show.

  "Oh, now Twinkle Toes, don't get your thong in a knot. Clearly, you're the bitch in the relationship." She seemed smug in her statement, and I wanted to tell her to fuck off, but she was Andre's friend and I wasn't going to be rude.

  "Gia, stop it or go alone," Andre stated firmly to her. He looked at her sternly, and then he wrapped my arm around his waist. I appreciated he was trying to make me comfortable, but a Valium wasn't going to calm me down at that point.

  Andre Dupree was so far above me in the social strata, I couldn't see the soles of his feet. I was the chopped liver to his filet mignon. He was up and coming and I was…nothing but a small-town boy with no direction and a hell of a lot of shit I was pulling up a hill behind me.

  I'd been fooling myself there was any way I could be accepted into…hell, I didn't know how to explain it, but I knew I didn't belong.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  An Ugly Night with the Beautiful People

  The cab arrived, and we all walked out after goodbyes to the Collins'. I was quiet, and I could see Andre was concerned. He and I settled into the third-row seat with the girls in the middle row, and he leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

  "Wrong? Nothing." Yeah, I was lying.

  We went to a restaurant where a hamburger was thirty bucks, and the girls gushed about the celebrities scattered around the large dining room and then proceeded to rip on their outfits. Surprisingly to me, Andre joined in with them. I kept my mouth shut, but it was an unbecoming side of him I'd never seen.

  After we split the bill, which was way the fuck out of my price range, we went to the club. It had a Middle-Eastern theme, and I couldn't lie and say it wasn't cool…if you were into that sort of thing. I wasn't.

  The girls ordered pitchers of Sangria, and we found ourselves at a table. There was a singer behind a piano, and it seemed like every thirty seconds, someone came to the table to speak to one of the three of them. Andre didn't introduce me to anyone, and I didn't really give a shit about not meeting them, but he was acting strangely.

  The girls continued to cut on people around us, sometimes loudly enough for them to look our way. That was when they didn't have their tongues shoved down each other's throats. Andre just laughed along with them, obviously not embarrassed by their behavior. My momma would have slapped me if she'd seen me sitting there listening to all that bullshit.

  Suddenly, Chelsea got up, grabbed a glass of sangria, and walked over to a girl in a white dress. The girl looked up excitedly and smiled at Chelsea who said something to her. The girl nodded and started to get up after looking at our table. Chelsea laughed and dumped the whole drink on her head. "What the fuck?" I questioned.

  "Chels has a thing about having one-of-a-kind dresses. That girl's dress is like one Chels has. Obviously, she won't be wearing that again. So, anyway, Andre, Cleve actually started crying when he was relating the story to me. I laughed in his fucking face. Can you believe he thought Gerard wasn't using him?"

  "I can't believe he thought he was the only guy Gerry was fucking at the time," Andre replied casually.

  Finally, I’d had my fill. The whole scene wasn't me at all, and I hated being there. I turned to him and tapped his shoulder. "I'm going to call it a night. You stay and get caught up with your friends. I'll see you in the morning."

  I got up from the table and walked out. If those two were his friends and he thought they were fun, we had nothing in common. I found them obnoxious exhibitionists, and I didn't find anything fun about spending time with them.

  I went out to the curb and tried to hail a cab. I pulled out my wallet and saw I all I had left was fifty bucks. I'd take the cab as far as it would go for the price and walk the rest of the way, hoping my cell stayed alive so I had GPS to get there. I'd drained my savings to go home with him, and it was becoming more apparent to me as the night wore on I needed to break it off with him. I couldn't afford to live his lifestyle, what with hundred-dollar pitchers of drinks and thirty-dollar hamburgers. I was a dollar-menu guy. Obviously, Andre wasn't.

  I felt a hand on my arm, and I wheeled around. I saw Andre standing there with his hands in the air in a non-confrontational stance. "What?" I asked harshly.

  "I'm sorry. I should have known this wouldn't be anything you'd like. Please, don't leave without me." He looked pathetic and I felt awful, but I had to make him understand it just wasn't my style.

  "Dre, this just isn't me, okay? I hate parties, and I now hate clubs even more. I'm not…If you're into this shit? You and me? Night and day, babe. I love you…very much as a matter of fact…but this whole night hasn't been anything I'd ever want to repeat. These people aren't living in the real world with the rest of us.

  "You thrive in this environment, and God, I'm so fucking intimidated by everything. I don't fit in," I bitched again as I paced in front of him. Hell, I’m wearing his clothes. I don't even have clothes for this shit.

  "Colton, this isn't…this is where my parents live, okay? Why do you think I chose to go to school in Washington? I learned how to play the game here, but I don't like it. That fucked-up job you heard about from Gregory Collins earlier? I'd rather hang myself from a fucking overpass than take that job. I have an internship lined up in Seattle, and I'm hoping it turns into a job offer because I want to stay in Seattle where you are.

  "I know I fell into the phoniness when we got to Gia's house, and I'm sorry I did. This club shit? I did this more than I wanted back in the day. I hate it. I just wanted you to meet the girls because they used to be fun. They just…hell, I don't know what's wrong with them now."

  I chuckled. "They think I'm too young for you. Oh, and too uncivilized or uncultured. My girls are Bryana and Amanda, and they are likely two of the least sophisticated girls on campus, but if you want to sit and eat popcorn while watching bad movies with a tequila shot game in the mix, they're your girls. They listen. They sympathize, and they care.

  "Those two I just met tonight? I have no idea how to reconcile them with the Andre I love." I held my hand up again and finally a fucking cab stopped. Andre opened the door and pushed me inside, climbing in after me. I was grateful for that, at least.

  We rode home in silence, and when the cab stopped in the driveway of the house, I offered my cash in payment. Andre didn't move to take it away, and I was grateful. Grateful and broke. I'd be glad to get back to work on Monday.

  We walked inside to hear his mother laughing, which was actually calming. I was headed upstairs, but he grabbed my hand and dragged me into the living room where his parents were snuggled on the couch watching something on television.

  "Boys? I thought you were going out?" Les asked as she muted the television.

  Andre sunk into a large chair and pulled me down with him. "It was a flipping disaster. Gia and Chelsea were hammered before we ever showed up. Greg tried to pressure me into that job, and I think Renata was trying to get Colton to redecorate her house." He turned to look at me, and he gave me a sad smile before kissing my cheek.

  "God, why do you hang out with them? Those people…Christ. They're awful. I know you and Gianna became friendly, but those girls are just dreadful, and Gregory and Renata? Drunk and whore. You decide who's who." I was stunned at Les' synopsis, but in my opinion, she'd called it spot on. Jean-Luc's laugh only substantiated her claim.

  "So, it's ten-thirty. Anyone up for a game of water volleyball?" he asked. I looked at him like he was crazy because it was pitch black outside.

  Andre laughed. "Oh, you wanna take us on, old man? We're up for it. Come on, love. Père, what's the bet?" he asked.

  I saw Jean-Luc ponder it for a moment and smile. "You two win, I'll pay for Hawaii at Spri
ng Break. You lose, you both come here and volunteer at the hospital. Deal?" he asked as he stood and offered his hand.

  Andre looked at me and smiled. "You wanna learn to surf in Hawaii on Spring Break?"

  I couldn't form a sentence. My spring break was likely going to be mowing my mother's grass and cleaning her gutters. Hawaii?

  "I, uh, I don't…"

  "Deal. He'll get into it later. We'll be back," Andre stated. He hauled me up from the chair and dragged me upstairs.

  "Change, Colton. This is how my life goes more than that shit you saw earlier, and I should have known better than to take you into that shit storm. I'm really sorry, and I'll never do it again. I love you, and I should have thought it through. Now, wrap your head around volleyball because my Père plays dirty. If we win, we're going to Hawaii for Spring Break, and I really want to go to Hawaii, sweetheart," he told me as his lips met my neck.

  I let go a sigh and went into my room, changing into my swim trunks and a t-shirt. I met him in the hallway and looked at him, seeing how happy he was. There wasn't the stress I'd seen earlier when we were out with his friends, and I had to believe I was looking at the real Andre, not the fake one I'd witnessed earlier. I didn't like that guy, and I hoped I never met him again.

  "Look, Mom will play close to the net and Dad will play the back. Don't underestimate her. She can spike that damn ball like a pro. She played volleyball in high school, and I'll tell you when she gets in the pool, she takes off the gloves. Have you ever played volleyball?"

  I laughed. "Babe, I went to Unionville High. Coach Ziegler, remember him? I have a wicked serve on land, so I can't imagine it won't translate to the water. I'll play it like I don't know what I'm doing. I'll set it and you spike it," I suggested.

  "I knew I loved you for a reason," he laughed as he kissed me sweetly. We ran downstairs and both dove into the pool. His parents weren't there yet, so we swam a bit to warm up.

  "We can set up the net," I offered.

  He looked up at the windows and laughed. "I'd say we wait and see if they actually show. You want something to drink? I'm going to have a beer." I nodded and he climbed out of the pool, going to the refrigerator to retrieve two light beers. He turned on music and then he turned to grin at me. Hell, it was gleaming. He was my Andre again, not the suave California dickhead from earlier.