The Foreigner & The Pessimist (malexmale)

18. Zuuro

****TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF SUICIDE****

The day has just barely started, and already, I'm exhausted. The tests here are really hard. I was warned about that, but I'm realizing now that I still severely underestimated just how hard they were going to be. The questions are confusing, and the answers are long and complicated, and even though I knew my notes and study materials like the back of my hand, I'll still be surprised if I managed to get even half of them right.

And that was only part one. Each test has five parts – we take one each day – and we're given the hour of our usual class time to complete it. And then we go to the next class, and we get another test in another subject, and the cycle just keeps repeating all week. There are no regular classes. No learning. Just test, after test, after test.

I've only been through one so far, but after that fiasco, I'm not looking forward to the rest of today. Or the rest of this week, for that matter. But now I have gym. Glorious, simple gym. There are only three gym tests each year. One at the beginning of the school year, one in the middle, and one at the end. That's it. So, gym is just class as usual this week.

I stroll into the locker room, giving a nod of acknowledgment to coach as I pass on my way towards the back. He has to stay in here now while we change. We didn't get an official reason as to why, but we all know it's because of what happened between Lane and Darin. Because even though the school called what happened to him an "accident" on the official record, the way they've been handling it says otherwise. That they knew what Darin was doing, they just chose to turn a blind eye to it until ignoring it was no longer an option. Which seems to be the case now.

When I reach the back of the locker room – where Lane and I usually change – I find Lane's backpack and shoes, but no Lane. I frown. I can't have missed him entirely yet, could I?

Then I remember that he's swimming today, not just sitting on the sidelines, and my stomach falls. Suddenly, I no longer feel very well.

He has to swim. I know that. It's the only way for him to get gym credit while he's recovering. But the thought of him being in that big huge pool all by himself...I just hate it.

I know he'll have someone there monitoring him, but still. What if they walk away for a minute? What if they look down at their phone? What if something happens to him and they don't get to him in time?

Deep breath, Zuuro. It's gonna be fine. Lane will be fine. I tell myself.

I don't know that for sure, but that's what I need to tell myself to make it through this next hour. Clearly, gym isn't going to be as relaxing as I thought.

While I'm getting myself changed, Lane returns; his regular clothes wadded up under his arm as he sports only a black pair of swim shorts.

I'm surprised my jaw doesn't hit the floor as I freeze; a familiar heat burning its way over my cheeks and nose.

I've seen him without his shirt before, but usually he's got his back to me. And somehow, I feel like his other pants leave more to the imagination than these shorts do. They aren't particularly tight – not compared to his jeans - but...they seem tighter. And they hang very low on his waist...very, very low. Like I think if they slid down another inch or two he may show off more than he'd intended to.

I gulp, suddenly feeling like this has to be breaking one of our rules.

Lane notices my staring and makes a face as he pulls his towel around his shoulders to cover himself. "Please don't. I'm already subconscious enough as it is being the only one dressed like this." He says; packing his clothes away into his bag.