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Riding the Waves By: Sean Roberts
-- Chapter 2 --
After last period on the first day of school, ten boys were trying out for two open spots on the team. Coach Baker was there, but as the captain of the boys' team, Tyler was in charge. He was even holding a clipboard. He called a name, blew a whistle and started his stopwatch. Swimming twenty laps was not an easy feat.
There was contempt in Tyler's voice as he called `Lewis'. Dylan stood by the water, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths in preparation. He was clearly not ready, but the whistle sang. He did not jump right away; he finished his breathing, started the chronograph on his watch, and then dove into the water.
He kept a slower pace for the first lap to warm up and get used to the pool's size. When he started his second lap, he began to push himself towards full speed. He drilled through the water, making excellent time. He stopped his watch as he climbed out of the water. He looked at Tyler who was only just pressing the button on the stopwatch. Despite the extra seconds tacked on, Dylan blew everyone else out of the water.
The two boys who made the team—Dylan and another named Tom— were told that team practices were twice a week, with meets on Friday. The rest of the team followed Tyler's lead in fervently congratulating Tom and ignoring Dylan.
Then, in the locker room, someone reached over and pulled Dylan's towel off him. There was laughter as he reached for it off the floor.
"What a dumb, fucking faggot," he heard someone say, to more laughter. It was Trevor Lancaster, the second best swimmer on the team besides Tyler. "Hey cock muncher," Trevor said, "want a taste?" Trevor pointed down to his crotch. Dylan ignored him and dressed as the comments and laughter continued. Tyler was not participating in the taunting, instead appearing very busy with something inside his locker.
Dylan ran straight up to his bedroom, sat at his desk and rolled a joint. As soon as it was ready, he felt better. But he did not light up. He had been asking himself how they knew he was bisexual. Of course they did not; they were just giving him a hard time. Dylan had always avoided smoking as much as possible when he had school. He had to swim and run to stay in shape; he had to study—he wanted to attend Harvard after all. He put the joint away for later and opened his books.
The shouts from the locker room would not leave his mind and he could not concentrate. He shut the book violently and put on his running clothes. He started to feel better in the warmth, running through the streets, seeing the new types of lush vegetation around him. He did not know his way around this new city, but without thinking he ran a familiar route.
He had been out for almost an hour, and was about to turn back when a car growled at him. The dark grey horse turned in front of him and stopped, blocking his path. Tyler was sitting in the driver's seat, wearing sunglasses and driving with his windows down.
"What are you doing here?" Tyler asked.
"I'm running," Dylan said.
"No shit. I mean what are you doing at my house?"
"I was trying to run past it, until you parked in front of me. You know this isn't your driveway, right? But even so, I have to admit that's a nice car. Is it a '67 GT 500?"
"It's a '68, but I'm not surprised you don't know anything about cars either. Didn't I tell you to stay the hell away from me? Instead you worm your way onto my team."
"I swam my way onto the team," Dylan said.
"You know you're sweating a lot, right?"
"Am I? Thanks for letting me know. Too bad you weren't this observant with the stopwatch."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about blowing the whistle when you knew I wasn't ready, and tacking on five extra seconds at the end. You know, if you're going to cheat, it's usually a better idea to do things like that to the other team."
"I have no clue what you're talking about," Tyler said.
"You'd just better not screw up the team like your asshole dad is trying to fuck us over. We win almost every meet. At least we did before you showed up."
Dylan leaned down, putting his face through the window, right up against Tyler's.
"Don't ever talk about my dad that way," Dylan said. "Whatever issues you have with me have nothing to do with him. Understood?" Tyler did not know how to react to this. He was getting angry at being told what to do, but he realized he may have gone too far.
"Uh, Lewis," he said. "You really do look like you're about to die. My parents aren't home, why don't you come in and I'll get you some water." Dylan cursed himself for not having carried water with him. He was too thirsty not to accept the invitation. He walked around to the other side of the car.
"No way in hell Lewis; you aren't getting sweat all over my car!"
"Okay, fair enough," Dylan said. He walked up the long driveway and met Tyler at the front door. Dylan drank an entire bottle of water in one shot. Tyler rolled his eyes and took out another from the fridge.
"Shouldn't you carry water when you go out running?" Tyler said. "Never mind, I answered my own question. That would require a brain." Dylan ignored the comment.
"So what happened to the meets you didn't win?"
"What?"
"You said you guys win almost all the meets; what happened with the ones you didn't?"
"The other team swam faster. Why don't you let me worry about that? I'm the captain, it's my job." Dylan put his hands up defensively.
"And you're doing a great job, captain. You're phenomenal with a stopwatch, and it's clear that your team would follow you into a hurricane. What was the plan there? Have them call me names to scare me off the team? All because of some made up feud you have with me?"
Tyler did not get a chance to retort as the front door opened and Jonathan Harris walked straight into the kitchen.
"Lewis?" he barked when he saw Dylan.
"He was out running," Tyler interjected quickly. "I just invited him in for some water." Mr. Harris was looking at his son, his face turning red. Dylan was familiar with the temper.
"Right," Jonathan said. "Well, don't stay too long. Tyler's got to finish his homework." He stormed off; Tyler's face turned red.
"Are you going to be okay?" Tyler said, almost in a whisper. "I can give you a lift home."
"I'll be fine," Dylan said. "Sorry, for staying so long, and thanks for the water." Tyler walked him to the door.
"Lewis," he said, stepping through with him.
"Yeah?"
"Take it easy on the way back." Tyler sounded genuine, and Dylan nodded towards him and jogged away.
He ate dinner with his parents, listening to his father colourfully articulate his opinion about Jonathan Harris. He ended his tirade by telling Dylan to not make friends with that Harris kid, whatever his name is. Dylan nodded, finished his dinner quietly and went up to his room. He shut his bedroom door. "His name's Tyler," he whispered to himself.
--
The doorbell rang frantically at 5:00 a.m. on Saturday morning. Paul disabled the alarm and opened the door, ready to begin shouting.
"Ethan?" Dylan said groggily, before anybody else could say anything. "What are you doing here?"
"We're supposed to go surfing today bro! Remember?"
"No. I don't think you told me."
"Oh shit," Ethan said. Dylan's parents groaned and went back to bed.
"Give me a couple minutes, I'll be ready," Dylan said. He brushed his teeth and ran a bit of water through his hair. "Nice truck," he said to Ethan.
"Yeah, need something to carry the boards."
Dylan could smell the salt in the air; the crashing waves made him smile.
"The rest of the gang is joining us a bit later," Ethan said.
"The rest of the gang?"
"Yeah, Jessica, Lisa, Tyler and Alice."
"You still hang out with Tyler and Alice? After the way they talk to you?"
"We've all been friends a long time. They'll get over it."
"Who's Lisa?"
"Alice's best friend, and the second best swimmer on the girls' team. She and Alice are best buds."
"Does she hate me too?" Ethan laughed.
"They're all going to meet us later. The plan was for me to show you the ropes first. Can't believe you forgot."
"Ethan, dude, you really never told me," Dylan said, laughing.
They paddled out together to meet the waves. The sun was starting to peek and the water was cool. Ethan had given him a preliminary lesson on the beach. It seemed easy enough, but Dylan was nervous as he felt his board hitting a wave.
"Now bro!" Ethan said. Dylan jumped expertly onto his first wave, the way Ethan had just shown him. Ethan told him he was a natural when they came out of the water.
Jessica was tall and wore a lot of necklaces, which she was removing and placing in her knapsack before going into the ocean. Tyler and Alice barely greeted Dylan. Lisa had bright red hair and freckles, and walked straight up to Dylan.
"So you're Dylan Lewis," she said to him. She said nothing else, except to whisper something in Alice's ear which made both the girls giggle. Dylan turned red.
"How was the lesson?" Jessica asked.
"He's a natural!" Ethan said.
"Ethan's a pretty good instructor," Dylan said.
"Let's go find some real waves!" Tyler said. They climbed into Ethan's truck. Jessica insisted that Dylan sit in the front, for which he was grateful. He was wishing he had not come, since Tyler and Alice did not want him there.
"Ready for another?" Ethan said. Dylan nodded. The waves were bigger but he managed to climb his board at the right time. He could feel the current's tremendous pressure underneath him; it coursed through his body as he rode it back to shore.
They went out for a second wave. This time, Tyler ended up just beside him. He got up on the board, the wave's energy just beginning to ramp up. Suddenly, he felt something push him over. He could not tell if it was hands or water. He fell into the wave, caught the current and was sucked underneath before he knew what was happening.
Dylan could not breathe. The salt burned his eyes, and he could not tell how deep he was or in which direction he was being pulled. He had no breath left, so he stopped moving. He forced himself to relax, feeling the ocean embrace him. When he lost the current, he pulled himself upwards, finally managing to break the surface and breathe. His eyes were still burning and the water was rough, but he was a strong enough swimmer to be able to deal with that. He looked around until he saw a faint outline of the beach. He was farther out than he would have guessed. He took a deep breath and started to swim back.
"What the hell bro? You alright?" Ethan asked.
"Yeah," Dylan said, coughing.
"Managed to get your board back," Tyler said to him, smiling and pointing at the board lying in the sand beside him. Tyler's eyes betrayed everything, but he was probably not trying to hide what he had just done. It was a warning.
"Great, thanks," Dylan said. He was out of breath and feeling disoriented and confused. He did not understand why Tyler's push felt like a betrayal.
"Ethan, I think I'm going to sit this one out. You guys have fun."
"What are you going to do here by yourself?" Dylan grabbed his knapsack off the ground and pulled out a joint.
"I think I'll figure something out," he said, smiling.
"Is this that good stuff you brought back from B.C.?" Ethan asked.
"Yeah."
"I think I'm sitting the next one out too," Ethan said. They all followed his lead. Dylan had wanted to smoke alone and think about being back in Jack's apartment, but it was nice too, sitting with the rest of them. Though they had gotten off to a rocky start, he hoped that the weed would help everyone acclimatize.
When he got home, his father was at work and his mother had gone out. Dylan showered and took his books out to the lounge chairs by the pool. He once again could not concentrate as Tyler swam into his head.