Between Lanes

"Oh my God!" Mark gasped, now stumbling backward in shock, his feet slipping on the slick, broken tiles beneath him. He barely caught himself before tripping completely, his heart still racing from the sudden jolt of fear.

"You're the phantom swimmer!"

"Phantom?" The boy, now fully visible in the pale light of the flashlight, scowled at Mark with a sharp intensity. "That's a new one."

Mark blinked in confusion, still processing the reality of the situation.

This was fine, really.

Nothing wrong with checking out a (ghost) boy who's not only half-naked and wet but also-wait, is that a fucking V-line?