Until Dawn - 3. Chapter 3

Peeking from the upstairs bathroom door, I slowly crept out into the hallway. I looked left and right, gauging to see if it was safe to make a hasty exit.

I couldn't believe someone had pissed on me. Well, not directly on me, but they might as well have.

I scurried down to the ground level, keeping my eyes peeled for any sign of life. When I didn't see anyone, I ducked into the locker room, and the sounds of my team flooded the chamber. The rush of water and giggling of adolescent boys rebounded off the tiled walls.

Peeping around the corner stack of blue tower lockers, I fixed eyes on Elliot and Jimmy standing by a couple of benches rummaging through their bags, presumably for bathing gel and towels. Behind the white tile wall, I could hear the remainder of my team showering and talking. I got the assumption into my head that it had to be a team member.

But why would my own team mess with me?

From what I could see, nobody else was upstairs, and people from the gym rarely stopped in to use the restroom. Wanting to wash my feet badly, I pushed the thought away temporally and began looking for the locker. Fumbling about with the bracelet on my arm, twisting it, I studied the armband for a number. There wasn't one. So, sighing in resignation, my shoulders slumped. 'Great,' I thought… 'Time to go hunting.'

Rounding the locker bank, Elliot waved at me, and I returned the greeting. Searching for some resemblance to where I put my clothes, I believed I found it, and I lifted the key to the door to open it. Instead, the key didn't fit into the lock. Glumly I removed it, then moved onto the next locker. Sure enough, I miraculously managed to open the cabinet without a problem. I often forgot where I put my shit, but that day it wasn't too bad.

The cheap strips of plastic you got when you paid a quarter for the privilege to lock your stuff away always had worn numbers. Amusingly I always managed to hold onto the key, but then never remembered the location of my clothes. I should have just stuck to one place every time I went, and that way, I'd remember where to find my stuff every time.

Grabbing my body wash from the locker, I reinserted the quarter, locked up, and went to the shower area. Usually, I'd have been thrilled about getting to stand under the warm current and watch my next-to-naked friends, but the incident bothered me. I chose, though, not to speak about it, and since the boys didn't seem suspicious as if they were playing some sort of prank on me, I wasn't swayed to discuss the circumstances.

Taking my place under a vacant shower nozzle, I smacked the self-shutoff valve, and the water broke out into a sprinkle, then quickly became a torrent. It felt good to wash my body, and I didn't waste any time cracking open the shower gel, making the gel run, covering my feet in green goo. If the boys were looking at me skeptically, I don't recall, but I didn't care either way. I felt satisfied with being able to wash off the gross pee and leftover sweat. For the first time, I chose to focus on getting myself clean rather than watching my friends. I somehow got the presumption that if I didn't scrub thoroughly, I'd stink of urine. Alternatively, I listened to my friend's sploshing about and focused on rinsing off the gross assault. Initially, I was going to tell Elliott, but I chose to keep it to myself. I'd wait until we were alone. Popping open my shower gel and then squeezing some liquid onto my palm, I smeared it all across my chest and under my armpits.

"You're getting better at the reverse dive," Elliott said.

The past month Elliott had been complimenting me on my progress, and I wasn't one to really care about impressing others. In hindsight, if I wanted to go to the regionals and win all the meddles, then I'd have to impress people. Bashfully, I shifted to my friend, gazing at the rest of the boys, and smiled.

"You think? I… if so, it doesn't feel like it," I muttered.

What I didn't expect to happen was for Sébastien to cut across the room. Genuinely I wasn't looking for sympathy and wasn't looking to get the rest of the room in on the conversation. I just liked talking to Elliott on my own, and when he said those words, it made me feel special inside. You know how champagne releases bubbles when you pop the cork after shaking it? That's how I felt when I was a kid, talking to Elliott.

"No… You're just staying shit, but you’ll manage to get the most points of anyone here on the team when you get to the regionals," Sébastien teased.

Sébastien and I always had that relationship, where the two of us would always pinpoint each other's flaws in good spirit, but never meant any harm by it. Seb was our best swimmer, the strongest kid on the team, and he could tear through the water like nobody else I knew. Everybody on the team knew that he was the best of them, but you didn't see anybody complaining because they were jealous of his ability. Like Sébastien being the best swimmer, people respected my position as the best diver, and between the two of us, we made up the most vital parts of the team. There was always that tiny bit of rivalry between us, even if we stood to compete in different parts of the group. Beneath the calm exterior of a friendship, we had the same goal and motivation, which was for the team's best interests. I wasn't one to be mute about public displays, and I always gave as good as I got in return.

"Are you saying I'm better than you, Seb?

The boys in the washroom all jeered at my rebuttal.

"Eh… normally you wouldn't hear me say this… and well, you didn't hear me say this now. So, I guess some people are better, but I didn't say this… and not to you," Seb teased.

The room fell silent momentarily, but then the oppressive stillness lifted when Sébastien smirked. I returned with a sneer, and the two of us gave each other a nod of appreciation. I gazed around the room, subconsciously rubbing my chest and washing off the loose sudsy froth that had permeated my body. Sébastien did the same; he applied some shampoo to his hair, shut his eyes, and lathered his cranium in foam.

The events that had transpired in the bathroom upstairs washed away as my adolescent brain became increasingly aware. I was standing in the locker room showers watching boys, dripping wet, covered in fluffy white tufts of shower gel and shampoo. Somehow the erotic site made me delusional. Having to turn back toward the wall because I could feel myself pumping a semi down below, I tried to focus on lathering up my own hair. The way I saw it, if my eyes didn't get the visual stimuli, then everything would subside naturally. The plan worked to a degree, but it didn't exactly help that I could still hear them all horsing around in the background and foolishly making snide jokes about one another. Who had the smallest Schlong, or what guy had started growing pubes? As time passed, the boys would start shredding their skimpy swimwear, leading to a conversation and omission of peer affection. A little bit of insignificant locker room mocking was enough to make me uncomfortable in the notion that I was probably the only gay kid on the swim team.

The suds cascaded down my body and headed for the plughole; my mind started to wander. I thought of those poppies I saw on our family's camping trip to Rivera National Park. But then I recalled Bao’s poppy lips and that was the end of that thought. I expected more hazing and bordering on bullying, but it didn't happen. Rather, the times moved on, and the boys switched subjects. I was happy to not be the center of attention anymore.

"So, my house later…?" one boy said.

It had to be Jimmy, he had that quiver about his voice, and only Jimmy trembled when he spoke. I wasn't sure if it was nerves, but I think words were never his strong suit.

Elliott replied, "Na, I have homework to catch up on."

It didn't take long for Jimmy to display his disappointment by grumbling, "YAWWWN…."

Digging my fingernails into my hair, I gave my scalp a thorough wash, and then something heavy hit my lower leg. Clenching my eyes shut to not get suds in my eyes, I let out a yelp and cursed at the boys.

"You there…?" Jimmy rebuked.

I sometimes had a habit of zoning out, and the boys always seemed to use crude, but effective stimulants to bring me back to earth. Wiping my eyes free of excess bubbles, I opened them and saw Jimmy standing under his shower without his shampoo bottle.

"Am I what?" I said in confusion.

Jimmy spoke up in excitement, "How 'bout you, Coop, you comin' to my house?"

Even if the bottle had hit me, I didn't seem to mind him throwing it at me. And I think after that incident, he believed I was mad at him for what he had done. I did have stuff to do, and my plans weren't to hang around with Jimmy all evening. I had a history paper to finish, a small Spitfire plane model to paint, and chores to complete before the evening ended.

So, I told him, "Think I'm out, maybe tomorrow. I've got a bundle of stuff to do."

Jimmy looked discouraged, and I have to say I felt terrible letting him down. Jimmy had always been a nice guy, and even if he wasn't the best-looking dude of all of us, he was probably the friendliest. Elliot looked to Jimmy, he just shrugged his shoulders, and I immediately swooned. With an eye roll, Jimmy just fobbed his hands and went back to showering.

"Jesus, you two should get married, be boring together," Jimmy teased.

We laughed, I found it amusing, and the entire incident was forgotten like a grain of salt. Deciding to get out ahead of all the boys, I left the showerhead and started for the locker banks. In the background, I heard the boys getting to know the new boy Bao.

'He did not expressly state what his position was for the swim team. I was left wondering why he was showering with us since he never entered the water?'

Needless to say, I marched to the locker with my clothes. I remembered the location this time, which was unusual. Unlocking it, I withdrew my things, brought them all to a bench, and then set everything down. Unpacking the items I needed to wear, I removed a pair of denim jeans and a hoodie with large white letters saying Adidas. Dropping my shoes under the bench, I resorted to drying my arms with a towel. Soon Sebastián and the new kid joined me in the changing area. The boys seemed to be getting on well and conversed like they had known each other for years. Though Seb was easy to get on with in the first place.

While I got dried, I kept a watchful eye. After all, Sebastián was naked, and it was just something I did. I moved onto my torso with my arms dry, not forgetting armpits, then popped on a t-shirt. The last few stragglers came out as a group chatting together, Jimmy, Elliot, and Jonathan, giggling like a couple of kindergarteners. They were up to something, and I didn't need to ask them to figure it out. Overhearing them, they talked about boobies, and it made me realize just how grownup we were now. I remembered a time when Elliot used to think asking to take a dump was a secretive matter. He'd be all hushed about it, and now he was actively talking about boobs and what girls he'd bang. Listening to this didn't exactly help me. Sometimes it even made me jealous. Hell, I recall a time when I walked in on him sitting on the toilet squeezing, his face all contorted and making stressed grunting sounds. He had to be about 6-years-old, but that memory lingered in the back of my mind. He was so embarrassed, and he never stopped plaguing me to forget about it. It was ironic since he kept bringing it up, reminding me about it.

Planting my leg up on the bench, I started to dry my feet.

There was a delicate growth of blond hair trailing up my legs, and I was happy to see some progress in that department. I was a late bloomer for a few years, but things were coming full circle that autumn. Elliot took his rightful spot next to me. Jimmy and Jonathan accompanied him, all of them depositing their backpacks on the long wooden seat. I smiled at Elliot, and he returned my greeting. He even welcomed me into a conversation that I didn't know I wanted to be in. The lad's discussion grew more animated, and it confirmed my questionable doubts. The boys were talking about girls in our year and tits. It made me smirk for some weird reason. I dried between my toes as the rest of the boys came over to join us when a nude picture of a woman surfaced on Elliot's cellphone. The lads gathered around, getting all rowdy and aroused by each other's comradery. All the hymns and haws, even the dirty slurs of what they wanted to do, were enough to provoke sexual interest on my behalf. I usually liked to listen to boys, being well… so blatantly honest, but I knew I couldn't handle the teasing. So, I quickly dried and dressed and decided to leave the locker-room, and made sure to let the guys know I was waiting in the lobby.

Outside the entrance hall, my bag rested on a small high table as I waited, sitting slumped in one of the chairs overlooking the pool area where observers watched. One of the lifeguards went about cleaning up, using a hose to spray down the grey tiles encompassing the pool's edges. The first person out of the dressing room was Sebastián; we said goodbye, and he left. The next person out was Bao, and being the new kid, I tried to make him feel welcome.

"See you at the next practice…." I said.

The boy didn't say a word; he just nodded and left via the door. Jeez, I thought, that guy was a man of few words, but at least he seemed nice. Getting tired of loitering, I got up and went to the vending machine. A hunger had stormed its way into my stomach. The receptionist's office chair groaned over behind the counter, and I felt somewhat comforted by not being on my own. Turning my attention back to the glass display, I locked eyes on a packet of Whoppers candy. Therefore, reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my Velcro wallet, counted out the exact amount of quarters, and removed a single dollar.

Feeding the single into the machine, I resorted to putting the quarters next in the coin slot, only to be abruptly disturbed by a loud crash. My first initial reaction was to hit the ground, and I hit the floor hard. Even my hands hurt from the sudden plop. My back pressed up against the vending machine, and I peered around for a shooter. Well, that was my first presumption since it was prevalent in the country of late. My heart scampered up in my chest, and I could have sworn I wet myself. Now when I think of it, I hadn't.

Though my eyes darted around the room, looking for an assailant, though I didn't find one. My heart rigorously thumped in my chest, and I had to force myself to calm down. That didn't last long when I noticed the broken window with all the shattered glass, the one with a body lying in the middle of the discharge.

Twisting onto my knees, I crawled forward, keeping a tentative eye on all the windows in case something else was at play. The receptionist had gotten up from her seat and looked around at the source of the loud bang. I crept all the way up to an upholstered bench then peered around the side of it to get a closer look at the person lying on the floor.

"Be careful; I'm calling the police," the woman called out to me.

Though the warning fell on deaf ears, and that's when I saw Bao lying there unresponsive.