Second Lanark

Secrets - Part 21

"Faith, Liz – what are you guys doing here?" Tim scratched the back of his head and looked as though he'd just woken up. His blond hair used to be frizzy from too much chlorine, but the penis that was shaved into their heads during initiation meant that all the rookie men had freshly shorn locks. 

      His t-shirt stretched across his athletic frame and his sweatpants hung low enough that when he scratched his head, his shirt rode up, revealing his stomach and the hint of the V shape emerging from his hips. It was my favourite part on a guy, one of the swimming perks was that I was able to see it all the time. I willed myself not to look right now, but it was harder than I expected. He was cute, in a frazzled kind of way.

      "We were hoping to talk to you about a couple things," Faith said, trying to look around him into the room. "Can we come in for a minute?"

      "God, no," Tim laughed. "My room looks like a clothes hamper vomited. We can go to the common room, if it's free or one of the study rooms." He looked at me and smirked. "How you feeling, Liz?"

      Apparently he was the type of guy who kissed girls in a bar for no reason. I was filled with relief, but underneath that was maybe a touch of hurt pride. I guess I could have been any girl. Then, I thought about Rob calling me brilliant and superb. I realized that I actually didn't care if Tim kissed one hundred girls last night, and I really was simply a number.

      "It's been a weirdly busy morning or," I checked my watch, "afternoon." I sighed. "I was really drunk last night – sorry about that."

      He grinned. "No need to apologize. It was fun – you were fun." He winked at me and then shut his door without locking it. He wandered down the corridor ahead of us and opened the door to the study room which was empty. He sat in a chair with his elbows resting on his knees and looked at us expectantly.

      "Mark spoke to both of us last night about a rookie swimmer who's been talking to the press about our initiation night," Faith said, not bothering with a preamble. "We're wondering if you know who it might be?"

      "Are you asking if it's me?" Tim frowned and sat back in his chair.

      "Ah, not unless we should be asking you that," I said, raising my eyebrows at him and then looking at Faith.

      "It's not me. But, if someone complained, I'm not surprised," Tim said, looking out the window over the cubicles. "Mark's a dick."

      It wasn't surprising to hear someone say that about Mark and yet, to hear it so bluntly stated startled me into a temporary silence.

      "So, you think it's possible that one of the guys complained?" Faith asked.

      "Possible?" Tim shook his head. "No, I don't just think it's possible, I think it's probably likely. Mark got way out of hand a couple of times with some of those guys who didn't have the guts to tell him to shut the hell up." Tim looked at both of us. "The only surprising thing is that one of them might have had the balls to stand up to him after the fact."

      "Do you think you'd be able to ask around in the change room? If the paper runs the story or if the Head of Athletics knows what went on, I think the swim program would be in trouble," I said, hoping the bitterness I hear in his voice is only directed at Mark and not at the team or the program.

      "Yeah, I'll ask around," he said, standing up. "That's it?" he asked, opening the door to the study room.

      Faith looked him up and down. "Are you okay?" she asked gently.

      He gave her a bored look. "Just hungover and don't really want to get involved in all this bullshit. But, I came here for the swim program too, so I can't exactly ignore the fact that Mark might have screwed us all over that night."