Chapter 1 The Problem Nobody Talks About #2
They had crossed paths plenty of times during the semester, although they had never actually spoken.
Ryan was one of those people Ethan noticed without meaning to.
He was twenty-three, a senior in sports science, and seemed to belong naturally in the athletic center.
He had a broad build, strong shoulders, and the easy physical confidence of someone who had spent years training.
He played recreational basketball, lifted weights, and sometimes helped with conditioning sessions for different university teams.
Ryan was also the kind of person who seemed impossible to embarrass.
At least, that was what Ethan had always assumed.
Now, standing near the lockers with a towel around his neck, Ryan looked different.
He was rubbing his damp hair with another towel, his expression unusually serious. His training shirt was already in his hand, and he appeared to be debating whether to put it on or leave it hanging over his shoulder.
Ethan slowed down.
Ryan looked toward the mirror.
Then he looked at his shirt.
Then he sighed.
It was such a small gesture that Ethan might not have noticed it on anyone else.
But Ethan noticed.
He knew that expression.
It was the expression of someone checking themselves.
The expression of someone wondering whether they were still acceptable to stand around other people.
Ethan stopped beside his own locker.
Ryan glanced up and their eyes met through the mirror.
For one second, neither said anything.
"Morning," Ryan finally said.
His voice was deeper than Ethan expected.
"Morning."
Ethan looked away and pretended to search through his bag.
He did not want to stare.
He did not want Ryan to know that he had noticed anything.
More importantly, he did not want to be caught doing the exact thing Ethan feared other people did to him.
Ryan pulled his shirt on.
Almost immediately, he tugged the fabric away from his chest.
Ethan's attention returned despite himself.
Ryan looked uncomfortable.
Not dramatically uncomfortable. There was no panic in his face. Just a quiet irritation, as though his body had once again failed to cooperate with what he wanted.
Ethan understood that feeling better than anyone.
Ryan picked up a small toiletry bag and walked toward the sinks. He washed his hands, looked at his reflection, and ran a hand through his hair.
Then he noticed Ethan watching him.
Ethan quickly looked down.
"Sorry," he said.
Ryan frowned slightly.
"For what?"
Ethan hesitated.
"I wasn't staring."
Ryan's mouth curved into a faint smile.
"I didn't think you were."
Ethan nodded, embarrassed by how quickly his face had warmed.
He turned back toward his locker.
Why had he said anything?
He could have simply left.
That was what he normally did.
Instead, he remained there.
Ryan leaned against the counter.
"You swim with the university team, right?"
Ethan looked up.
"Yeah."
"I've seen you at the morning sessions."
Ethan nodded.
"You're in sports science?"
"Senior year."
Ryan extended a hand.
"Ryan."
Ethan stared at it for a moment before taking it.
"Ethan."
Their handshake lasted only a second.
It should have meant nothing.
Yet Ethan felt oddly conscious of it.
Ryan released his hand and looked toward the pool entrance.
"You guys train like you're trying to punish yourselves."
Ethan laughed quietly.
"It feels that way."
Ryan smiled.
The conversation should have ended there.
Instead, Ryan looked down at himself again.
He tugged at the collar of his shirt.
"This place is ridiculous."
Ethan glanced toward the ceiling vents.
"The locker room?"
"The temperature."
"Oh."
Ryan looked around.
"It's like a sauna in here."
Ethan smiled faintly.
He knew exactly what Ryan meant.
The athletic center had been having ventilation problems for weeks. When the pool was busy, humidity collected quickly, making the locker room feel warmer than the rest of the building.
Ethan usually blamed the building first.
Today, however, he suspected there was another reason Ryan was annoyed.
Ryan rubbed his forehead with the towel.
"I can never tell whether I'm sweating because I worked out or because this place has decided everyone needs a second workout."
Ethan laughed.
It came out more naturally than he expected.
Ryan looked at him.
"See? You understand."
"Unfortunately."
Ryan grinned.
The tension between them loosened.
Ethan picked up his water bottle and took a drink.
Ryan was still looking at the ceiling.
Then he said, almost casually, "I swear, I could shower three times and five minutes later I'm sweating again."
Ethan froze.
The words struck somewhere deeper than they should have.
He lowered his bottle.
Ryan seemed to realize what he had admitted.
His expression changed.
For a moment, his confidence disappeared completely.
"I mean..." Ryan glanced down. "It's annoying."
Ethan knew that tone.
It was the tone people used when they wanted to turn something personal into a joke before anyone could take it seriously.
Ethan could have let the conversation end.
Instead, he said, "Same."
Ryan looked up.
"What?"
Ethan swallowed.
"Same."
Ryan stared at him.
Ethan suddenly wished he could take the word back.
But something about Ryan's expression made him continue.
"I sweat a lot too."
Ryan's face softened.
"Yeah?"
Ethan nodded.
"More than I should."
Ryan gave a quiet laugh.
"Then I guess we're both unlucky."
Ethan smiled.
For the first time that morning, he did not feel the need to hide his reaction.
Ryan leaned back against the counter.
"I thought I was the only one who had to carry extra shirts everywhere."
Ethan's eyebrows lifted.
"You do that too?"
"Two extra."
Ethan almost laughed.
"Three."
Ryan stared at him.
"Three?"
Ethan shrugged.
"Sometimes."
Ryan shook his head, amused.
"Okay. You win."
Something shifted inside Ethan.
It was small.
Almost invisible.
But it was there.
He had spent years believing that excessive sweating was a private defect he needed to manage silently. He had never imagined sitting in a locker room with another man who understood the practical details without needing an explanation.
Ryan knew what the extra shirts meant.
He knew why Ethan checked himself.
He knew why the heat bothered him.
That realization made Ethan strangely comfortable.
Ryan looked at Ethan's bag.
"Deodorant?"
Ethan nodded.
"Body wipes too?"
"Obviously."
Ryan laughed.
"Same."
Ethan smiled.
They stood there for a moment, both amused by how ridiculous their routines sounded when spoken aloud.
Then Ryan's smile faded slightly.
"It's not funny sometimes, though."
Ethan understood immediately.
"No."
Ryan looked at the floor.
"People notice."
The sentence was quiet.
Ethan felt his chest tighten.
"Yeah."
"They pretend they don't."
Ethan nodded.
"Yeah."
Ryan glanced toward him.
"Sometimes you can tell."
Ethan looked at his own hands.
"Sometimes you think you can tell."
Ryan considered that.
"Fair."
Ethan was surprised by the response.
Most people would have tried to reassure him immediately. They would say nobody noticed, nobody cared, or he was imagining things.
Ryan did not.
He simply acknowledged that the fear existed.
That made Ethan trust him more than any comforting speech could have.
Ryan picked up his bag.
"I've got a class in forty minutes."
"Same."
"What are you taking?"
"Biochemistry."
Ryan made a sympathetic face.
"That's rough."
Ethan laughed.
"It's worse than morning practice."
"Nothing is worse than morning practice."
"You don't swim."
"Exactly."
Ethan laughed again.
The conversation had become easy.
Too easy.
He had known Ryan for less than ten minutes, yet Ethan felt more comfortable with him than he did with some people he had known for years.
Ryan walked toward the locker-room door.
Then he stopped.
He looked back.
"Hey, Ethan."
"Yeah?"
Ryan hesitated.
Then he smiled.
"Don't worry about it."
Ethan frowned.
"About what?"
Ryan gave a small shrug.
"The sweating."
Ethan stared at him.
Ryan continued before Ethan could answer.
"I know what it's like. You don't have to keep checking yourself every five minutes."
The words landed harder than Ryan could have known.
Ethan's first instinct was to deny it.
He almost said he wasn't worried.
Instead, he simply nodded.
"Thanks."
Ryan smiled.
"No problem."
He walked out.
Ethan remained beside his locker.
The room was still humid. His clothes were still damp in the sealed plastic bag. His body still produced more sweat than he wanted, and nothing about that had magically changed.
Yet something inside him had.
For the first time, the problem did not feel entirely his.
There was another person on campus who understood.
Another person who carried extra shirts.
Another person who checked himself in the mirror.
Another person who knew what it felt like to wonder whether someone nearby had noticed.
Ethan picked up his bag and followed Ryan toward the hallway.
He did not know yet that Ryan would become important to him.
He did not know that their brief conversation would become the beginning of something neither of them had planned.
For now, all Ethan knew was that he had entered the locker room expecting to feel embarrassed.
Instead, he was leaving with something he had not felt in a very long time.
Relief.
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