Swimming One Shots

•5• Vanilla » Ryan Lochte

Katherine didn't hate Ryan Lochte, nor did she love him.

She just slightly disliked him.

He was cocky, arrogant, insensitive, over-confident, and selfish. Sometimes, however, he was funny, soft-hearted, sociable, and a total sweetheart and gentleman.

And he was always, always so attractive. It almost pained her to see someone like him get the looks and not the personality.

They were on okay terms, her being his older brother Devon's best friend, but she wasn't keen on getting any closer than that to him, seeing as he was known for often being quite the asshole. Katherine didn't like that sort of shit, she liked to mind her own business and keep the nasty stuff out of her way. Even when Devon started dating one of her acquaintances, Megan, she didn't give him any advice.

Katherine knew that a particular Sunday in July was not her day when she rolled out of bed with a thumping headache. It didn't really make any sense, seeing as she was never a drinker, and hadn't even partied for more than 6 months.

She blamed it on crying so hard the previous day. No, she wasn't dealing with a break up. Katherine was not the kind to cry over a guy, she just got this spurge of hatred after ending any relationship.

In fact, she had simply been crying over Inside Out. That was one movie she could not watch without bawling her eyes out, even if she was 30 years of age.

It was odd how she had never payed an interest in any sort of romantic relationship. She dated quite a few guys in high school, and she regretted it in her adult years, but that was all. She hadn't had a boyfriend in more than 12 years, and hadn't even went out on dates.

She was like that, sweet but hard to get, and she preferred that she stayed that way.

So when she trudged out of bed to make herself some waffles with Advil, she knew that that day was one to dread.

As she quietly stuffed her face while watching reruns of Friends on her large TV, her phone started ringing. She jumped up from the dining table, seeing as her mother had taught her that it was impolite to leave a phone ringing for a long time as long as you were available.

She picked up the phone almost instantly and without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello!" she chirped, despite the pain she was in.

"Hey, Kitty-Kat!" she relaxed on the phone; only Devon called her Kitty-Kat, "I was wondering if you could babysit Ry today, I'm going out with Meg for the night."

She wolf-whistled, "Get some, bruh," then she frowned over the phone, "But why should I babysit him? Isn't he like what, 32? And wasn't he all alone in Rio?"

"Well, look what happened when we left him to himself," she could imagine him rolling his mischievous eyes.

Kat gave it a few moments' thought. She had indeed heard of an incident, involving Ryan, public urination, and imaginary guns.

She shrugged, before noticing something.

"How am I supposed to babysit him when he is the older one? Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"Technically speaking, he's 5," he chuckled, "I'm sorry, I have to go, just tell me your answer?"

She stayed silent for a minute, "How much have I got in it?"

"25 Oreo Milkas, large size," he rushed.

"Consider him already asleep in a fresh nappy."

She heard him chuckle over the other end before hanging up.