Chapter 10 Shammies and Friends
Shammies and Friends
Maisie
The next month or so of college passes by in the blink of an eye.
I’ve fallen into a routine: class, meals, practice, homework, going to parties with Karsen when I get tired of saying no, Marvel movies with Connor, and roomie nights with Angie.
Our first dual meet is this Saturday, and my nerves are through the roof.
We’re facing off with Mannon University, our biggest and longest-standing rival.
I’m going through the motions of practice, but my temples are throbbing and my palms are sweaty, which makes grabbing my shins while flipping nearly impossible.
The fogginess in my head causes me to miss simple skills, and all of my optionals—the name we have for our harder dives—are either being thrown way over or landing severely under the vertical mark, which only fuels the anxiety cycle.
I can tell Coach Megan is not pleased with my practice today, but I do my best to drown out the noise in my head and run through each of my dives a few times, regardless of their outcome.
Once I’m done, I grab my shammy and head toward the locker room.
On my way, I spot Connor standing in the shallow end of one of the lap pools, holding his navy water bottle aloft, squirting water into his mouth.
His bicep is flexed, the vein that runs along his forearm on full display.
Some of the water misses and dribbles down his jaw, then down his sturdy neck and sculpted chest. My eyes can’t help but track its descent until—shit, he sees me.
Our eyes meet—mine most likely full of panic and his crinkled from the smile he gives me. He lowers the bottle and waves.
I awkwardly wave back and continue toward my destination.
A whistle blows, indicating practice is over for the swim team, too, and before I know it, an all-too-familiar shadow lingers behind me.
I turn just as Connor was about to pull on my wet ponytail.
I karate chop his arm like I’m some sort of ninja, and he groans, dramatically playing along with our faux-violent scene, his plans thwarted.
I smile, content that I can always be my goofy self with him.
Angie sidles up beside me and says, “Wanna do something together tonight?” She looks between Connor and me expectantly.
I balk because this is the first time she’s ever suggested the three of us hang out.
Of course she and I are friends, and Connor and I are friends, and we’re all teammates, but… it still feels weird.
“I don’t have anything going on after this,” Connor replies with a nonchalant shrug. He looks to me.
“Um.” I shake the water out of my ear. “Sure. Why not? What did you have in mind?” Might as well, right? Beats my plans to work on my chem lab.
“What about your place?” She points at Connor, lips quirked to the side.
“I’m game. Just have to run it by the guys, but it should be fine.” He rubs the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. Just as he says it, Connor’s roommate, Hunter, appears by his side.
“What’s this I hear about a get-together?” His smile is confident and his body posture relaxed even after a hard practice.
“Angie and Maize were talking about coming over to our place,” Connor responds. “I was just saying I needed to run it by you guys first.”
“They should come! Brock never minds the company of beautiful women—” he dips his head in respectable reverence to Angie and me “—and Tyler has had enough alone time this week; he needs to socialize, show proof of life, all that good stuff,” he says through a laugh.
“We should probably still ask them—” Connor starts to say, but Angie interrupts.
“Great! See you all there in an hour.” She wastes no time bouncing into the locker room.
“See you then.” Hunter tips his head in a Southern-gentleman way toward the two of us and saunters off as well.
I haven’t moved. Even though my social worlds colliding should be a good thing, it’s left me a bit off kilter.
Plus, I’ve never actually been to Connor’s place.
We always watch movies in my room. Change also has not always been my strong suit.
When I don’t know what to expect, I feel vulnerable, not knowing if things will go okay or what a new environment will be like.
If I’ll feel comfortable enough to be some semblance of myself.
Will this change things between Connor and me?
I must be frowning because Connor boops my nose, asking, “You okay there, Betty?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine.” I stumble backward and nearly fall into the bin of practice fins along the wall. “I’ll, uh, see you at your place then. Bye!” I lift my hand in a haphazard wave goodbye before ducking into the locker room.
I shake my head to clear it as I walk into the shower area, where I find Angie already naked and scrubbing her ringleted hair.
I know I’m way over-reacting, but I can’t help it. “What’s gotten into you?” I ask with a mildly accusing tone.
She flips her hair over and bends at the waist to rinse the underside.
“What? You’re friends with him, so why shouldn’t I be?
Plus, after interacting with Hunter, I may want to explore that some more.
Did you hear him call me beautiful?” Her words are garbled by the water.
Flipping her hair and straightening, she steps back into the spray and smiles fiendishly.
I lather my own hair as I roll my eyes at her.
Of course Angie latched onto that little detail.
I take a deep breath, as close to accepting the change as I’ll get.
“Fine. Whatever. But are you sure you want to see…” I let the question linger, knowing she has history with another one of Connor’s roommates.
Angie’s nostrils flare. “Who cares about Brock? Whether he’s there or not makes no difference to me. I want to spend time with you and your other best friend. That’s all.”
“Alrighty then.”
“The d-bag,” she whispers under her breath.
I pretend not to hear, giving her privacy in her own thoughts, but I smile because I’m pretty sure she’s into one of Connor’s roommates—and it’s not the one she is claiming to have a newfound interest in. It should make for an entertaining evening nonetheless.