A Drop In The Lake

the boys in the boat

Alessa

    Water rushes below the hull of the boat as our synchronized feathering of the oars mimics our thirty stroke rate. My arms begin to burn as the blisters on my hands stretch under the friction of the tape and the oar. Pain shoots through my back as our rate goes up two beats, then two more, gliding us into the final 250 meters of our practice 2k.

    I know the moment we hit the red buoys because Mary, our coxswain, comes over the speaker system and screams, "Last 250 ladies, let's do this." Ice-cold blood shoots through my veins. "Come on Alessa, I wanna see thirty-six in two!"

    "Agh!" I grunt through clenched teeth, looking for the determination I need to finish the race.

    "That's it, ladies, keep your timing together. We're on their stern, get me to their stroke in two. One." She yells, fueling the drive of my legs. "Two. I'm right behind their stroke, one more all out. Drive with your legs!" She continues, pushing us in line with their two-seat and across the finish line.

    "Agh!" Comes a chorus of tired rowers.

    Before we have a chance to register the finish line passing behind us Mary comes back onto the speaker system."Great job ladies! Now lengthen it out to a paddle."

    My vision blurs and my determination melts into putty as I slow down the slide and take all pressure off. After three minutes of choking on air and the English language, I finally muster, "How was our time Em?"

    "7:32, a new best!" Mary supplies, making my whole body go limp.

    Me, Brook, Dani, Dana, and Mary have been rowing together since freshman year of high school. We all joined, looking for a family of friends, and what we came out with was a lifelong sisterhood. Mary has — surprisingly — always been the quiet one of the group, always whisked away into some new adventure described in one of the many books she reads. Brook's the party girl, staying out late only to come back to the dorm and continue the party into the wee hours of the morning. Dani and Dana are twins. Dani's the smart as hell athletic type while Dana's more quiet and reserved like Mary. I, on the other hand, am the momma goose of our squad, always taking charge and reprimanding the others when they fall short. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a total bitch, I just like to push my friends to their fullest potential. I also always carry a first aid kit on me, because you can never be too safe.

    "Damn, I think Princeton might actually recruit me with those kinda scores," Dani adds as we turn around and make our way back to the boathouse.

    "Are you kidding me! Once Princeton gets wind of your practically perfect GPA, they'll be on their knees, begging you to attend their school." Dana cracks.

    As we make our way into the line of boats attempting to dock, we float past the men's 1V boat. All of us have had the hots for guys 1V lineup, because I mean, come on. They're all wildly attractive and strong as hell. We'd just finished racing their 3V (the boat that we finished two-seat lengths behind), and while they're pretty fast, they're nowhere near the 6:22 of the 1V.

    As my gaze sails across the boys in the boat, I notice an unfamiliar profile. Unruly black hair, caramel-colored skin, and subtly defined back and arm muscles. As if feeling my gaze, he turns his head towards me and, in the glow of the evening sun, I can see the fresh-squeezed lime green of his eyes along with the rugged facial features of a GQ 'bad boy'. He's hot. There are no if, and, or buts about it.

    I just sit there, with my oar in my lap, staring at him for what feels like a lifetime, when Brook taps me on the soldier and says, "Ale. Earth to Ale."

    "I'm sorry, did you say something Brook?" I stumble, trying to recover from my obvious gawking.

    "No, but our coxswain did, 'stern pair row arms only'."

    I fumble with my oar for a second, trying, and failing to seem as if I had heard Mary all along. But the sound of my boat mates chuckling tells me that my attempts were fruitless.

    Our boat slides next to the dock at the same time as the men's 1V, and I just cannot stop myself from looking over at their stroke seat.

    "One foot out. Oars across. Up and out!" Yells Mary. As she does, I marvel at the way stroke seat's back muscles flex as he removes the velcro restraints from his footboard.

    "Starboards get oars, ports get oarlocks." I hurriedly regain my composure when Jack, the guy's coxswain, calls for them to get out of the boat. I secure the oarlock and wait for the rest of my boatmates to return, stealing glances at Mr. GQ.

    "Hands-on!" Mary calls once we've all returned. "Up to waist. Ready, up. Up overheads."

    We all walk up the dock, the boat weighing down on our skyward arms. I creep a few more glances in the direction of this mysterious stroke but get no time to dwell on all of his fine details as we split to shoulders, the boat now obstructing my view of him entirely. We walk the boat into the boathouse and carefully place it onto the racks.

    "Spill." I hear Brook whisper from over my shoulder as we head back out to collect our oars.

    "What do you mean?"

    "Oh, you know what I mean. Don't be all shy now, I saw the way you were looking at their stroke." She contests.

    "I mean... So. He's cute and all..." I quickly stop myself from going on as I realize we're passing right next to their boat and he might have heard me.

    "Uh-huh... and he's just cute?" Brook asks knowingly.

    "I just haven't seen him before, do you know if he's a new recruit or something?" I reply meekly.

    "I don't know. Why don't you go over and ask him?" Brook taunts.

    "You know I can't do that," I reply, bending down to pick up two oars.

    "And why not?" She continues.

    "Because. Do you realize how creepy it sounds if I just walk up to him and say, 'Hey, sorry for being so weird earlier and just staring at you, but I think you're insanely attractive, and I was just wondering: what planet are you from?"

    "Earth." My blood runs cold at the sound of a mellow voice greeting me from behind. And guess who that voice belongs to. Yup! None other than the insanely attractive stroke seat himself. Kill me... now.

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So this is chapter one of a story I've been working on for a while. I'm definitely a hopeless romantic so I've read hundreds of romance stories, only thing is they all seem to follow the star QB of the football team and a book nerd. While these stories are different in the way they're told, they all feel the same. So, I took it upon myself to work on a passion project. I love writing and I love rowing, thus the origin story of this story begins to unfold.

A bit of housekeeping (as Mr. Watkins would say) is I'll be uploading a new chapter every Sunday. If you wanna keep up with my journey or any changes/ announcements, I'll be posting those mainly on my IG (oliviatesta_) and Snapchat (Therealistliv). Also please feel free to leave comments and feedback as this story will be growing in real-time (just please think before you comment on something as I am a real person too).

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this story and come back next week for chapter 2!