This morning is a huge letdown. Instead of diving again Holly is studying the samples we collected yesterday. She walked us through it, taught us what she was looking at, and instructs us to double check her findings when she’s done. I’m forbidden from touching anything at all after a couple of equipment crashes. I keep apologizing profusely but she’s getting increasingly irritated, so I sit off in the corner, hands under my thighs. Alex comes over to sit on the desk in front of me.
“It’s actually kind of adorable how clumsy you are.” He’s grinning with a lopsided smile.
I’d rather be anywhere than here.
"How’d you come across this program, anyway?” He's examining a clear paperweight sphere. Holding it in the light like a prism and tossing it hand to hand.
I appreciate his abrupt change in subject. “I'm going into my senior year as a marine biology major. One of my advisors helped me get connected with the program to strengthen my resume. I'm hoping to jump straight to a PhD program after graduation. What about you?”
“I'm finishing general studies at a community college. Sports derailed me, so I'm playing catch-up. Exploring potential careers. One of my professors thought biology would be a good fit and recommended the program.”
“I was a swimmer in high school. I wasn’t good enough to go past high school, but I definitely would have if given the choice."
"I swam too! I spend a lot of time in the water." He finally sets the paper weight down and grabs a pen. The incessant clicking is getting to me already, but he doesn't notice my irritation.
"Where are you from originally?" I finally reach out to grab the pen, just so he'll stop, but my hand holds onto his for too long. He's looking down where they're connected. I snatch mine back as heat crawls up my neck.
"Augusta. In high school I swam with my school team, Nokomis."
"Huh?" It takes me several seconds to recall the question I asked him. The wheels in my head start turning. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-four. Why?" He tosses the pen aside and picks up a book now. Some kind of textbook and starts flipping the pages too quickly to be reading anything.
"The Warriors were our biggest rivals, and I don't remember you on the team. We definitely would have had at least two years of overlap." I'm replaying countless swim meets in my head trying to place him. There is no way, even in high school, he would not have been the talk of every girl on the team during meets.
"I definitely noticed you!" He tosses the book aside and gives me his full attention. He's giving me his lopsided grin with that stupid dimple that momentarily works to distract me.
When I finally recover coherent thought, I call him out. "I know you're bullshitting." I stare at him flatly. "You were never a swimmer, were you?"
He sighs, "Not competitively."
I narrow my eyes at him.
"It was a summer league," he mutters. He's looking past me over my head.
"Which one?" I cross my arms and purse my lips.
"Fine, I mostly surfed, but swimming was involved! How'd you know I was lying?"
"Other than the obvious fact I never saw you compete with Nokomis? You're built like a hockey player. Or a tight end. You're not aerodynamic enough for competitive swimming."
Frown lines crease his forehead. "What's a tight end?"
I incline my head and search his face. "Is that a joke? I can't tell."
"Obviously," he says and a weird expression crosses his face. Something tells me he was not joking. "I'm sorry I lied. You just seem to love swimming, and I wanted to impress you."
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," I say around my laugh. "Other than you claiming to be a swimmer."
"I really am sorry!" His voice raises to a higher pitch than his normal deep tone. "Let me make it up to you!" He must feel me wavering because that stupid grin crosses his face again.
It really isn't fair to be that attractive all the time. I release a heavy exhale. "If we start over, can you manage the truth?"
"Absolutely. I'm an open book. Ask me anything." He seems so earnest and is leaning toward me from the edge of the desk.
His stupid cologne envelopes me and sets my mind and body at ease. It's like he's a manifestation of the ocean itself. "I also love to surf, so we have that in common."
He looks down and rubs the back of his neck.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I demand.
"Surfing might be too strong of a word… I mostly fall off. But there is a lot of swimming back to my board!"
I absolutely cackle. "That's completely absurd." He looks so ashamed I feel terrible for laughing.
"I occasionally fill in as a surfing instructor. If you'd like to learn, I can try to teach you."
"That'd be fantastic!"
“Rae, you want to try again?” Holly calls from across the room.
“I’m not sure that's a good idea," I answer honestly.
“Come on,” she says with a sigh. “You’re here, might as well learn.”
Somehow, I manage to make it through a few examples without breaking anything.
“We should celebrate!” Alex says excitedly. “Who’s in?”
“I have a friend coming to town for a visit. It’s the only night she’s here, so we’re meeting up at the Dutch.”
This is literally the only night in an entire month I already have plans, otherwise I would have immediately said yes. I'm definitely telling Gracie about the weird guy who invented an entire swimming career. She will have opinions.
“What’s the Dutch?” Alex asks.
“Oh, I thought you said you were from the area? It’s a bar and restaurant called The Flying Dutchman. Great food and a heavy pirate aesthetic. All the servers wear eye patches and have to talk like pirates. It’s hilarious.”
“Sounds fun! Can’t believe I’ve never been there.”
“My friend Gracie’s parents own it, so we get discounts and a great table.”
“Sounds great, I’m in! I’ll meet you there.”
“I... what... wait...”
He’s already walked out the door before I can stop him.
“What time should we meet you?” Holly asks with an arm around my shoulder.
“Uh, seven?”
“See you then!”
She turns and goes back to work.