The Deal With Byrd and O'Neill

Chapter 7

Cody

I didn't feel like swimming today. 

Sure, I groaned and moaned about the heavy trainings along with the others a lot. Sometimes we took our sweet time getting into the water, making coach Carta's face go red and the vein on his forehead pop. There was always a love-hate relationship going on between me and the pool. But I can't remember the last time I honestly didn't at all feel like swimming. 

My body just felt heavy. I didn't want to do anything except be alone and lie in bed, but I'd showed up at the pool's canteen thirty minutes before the training anyway. Hung out with whoever was also there at our usual table. Nobody seemed to notice I was quiet though, not even Dylan or Benjamin. They were listening to Britt. 

"I think I'm going to cut it all off and go for sassy short." Britt held a strand of her blonde hair between her fingers and frowned at it.

Benjamin looked horrified at the idea. "Your hair is so much better long!" 

"But Benny, just look at those split ends! Gosh the pool water just kills your tresses," Dylan gasped, obviously making fun of Britt, who glared at him. 

"Nah, short would look great on you Britt," Tessa, one of the younger girls with short hair, said. "I remember when mine started to literally break off. No matter how much hair product slathered on it." 

I touched my own hair. I didn't do anything but wash it, and had even caught a hint of a green colour in it sometimes. Did Mason think my hair had too many split ends? Should I start wearing a cap in the pool more often? Compared to Zoey's glossy curls, my greenish blond mophead wasn't a pretty sight. But even the best looking hair in the world wouldn't make me a girl like Zoey. If I had to blame anything, I had my gender to blame more than my hair for him not liking me.

Coach Carta was right: I would've been better off never getting 'hormonal' like the other boys and girls on our swimming team. Two days ago I didn't know what that felt like and I already didn't like it anymore. The self-consciousness and the sudden worrying if Mace didn't like me because of my stupid hair or other stupid shallow reasons sucked. Not being liked back sucked. Being 'hormonal' sucked.

At least things seemed to be working out for Mace. I don't think he saw through my smile, nor noticed that I hadn't wanted to talk about math. I didn't want to bum him out while he was happy. He was my best friend. Dumping my feelings and doubts on him after seeing that kiss with Zoey was even more selfish than secretly wishing his relationship with her wouldn't work out. 

That, and I'd chickened out. Big time. My tongue had somehow gotten stuck in my mouth when Mason looked at me, and I realised I'd only get painfully rejected. What was the point telling him, if in the best case Mason's dimpled smile would fade, followed by him awkwardly scratching his head and carefully trying to explain he wasn't gay and could only be my friend.