Lost Boy (boyxboy)

Chapter 3: Moir

IT WAS early autumn and the water was cold. But Moir kept reaching forward, each stroke definite and precise. He let himself be lost in a rhythm his body created.

He kept his eyes on the wall ahead.

His goal.

The touch pad.

With every swing of his arms, he propelled himself forward. And forward. And forward. Until he felt his joints heating, his muscles aching.

When, at last, he touched the wall, he pushed himself up. Even as his chest screamed for air, he removed his goggles and looked around. He was hoping he'd hit the goal first.

But he didn't.

Of course.

Percy finished first. He always did. And he always would. He was born to swim, win medals. And bring glory to the school.

Moir shook his head and stayed there, letting the cold numb his tired muscles. He stared at the water, at the mosaic tiles underneath. With his eyes, he traced the outline of the woodpecker, the school's mascot.

"Nice shot, Moir. You got second." Nigel said from a neighboring lane. He was holding a laugh.

"As always, yeah. But there's still two more evaluations before the coach decides who goes where. I'm guessing you got third?"

"Nah." Nigel tried to smile. "Got fourth." Among them, he seemed like the only one who still got a pale complexion. It matched the steely grayness of his eyes, and the dark abyss-like quality of his hair.

"Shame!" Moir booed. He climbed out of the water, laughing.

"Shame on your jumbo ass!" Nigel dove back into the water.

Moir went to a bench and sat. He removed his swim cap and grabbed his towel to start drying his hair. Several feet away, he saw Coach Evans talking to Percy. He was all smiles and laughs.

"I wonder how Percy got away with a tattoo." A boy sat beside Moir, staring at Percy. It was Hendrick Gatsby, the only sophomore who made it into the team. He wasn't as tall or as built as Moir but he was almost as fast as him by about milliseconds.

He had dark hair, green eyes and very tanned skin. He trained at the beach where he now worked as a part-time lifeguard.

"Hey, man." Moir's gaze went to the sunburst tattoo on Percy's right chest. It was intricately designed, with rays that curved in such a beautiful way. Its goldness was a huge compliment to his tanned skin. "You should get one if you like."

"Nah. My parents will kill me." Rick chuckled.

"Me too. Not that I'd want one."

The coach blew his whistle. "Gather around."

THE MOON shone brightly against the early night sky, drowning the stars around it. It was a clear crescent silver cut into a space of endless dark blue. There were no clouds tonight, just tiny hints of wispy cotton.

The canopy of the trees reflected the light, and casted spidery shadows under them. There weren't as many leaves as it were during the summer. But they were still bushy and rich with green lush. Their trunks were dark and old and scaly. Moir tossed a handful of soil over the bonfire, tapering the flames. He laid on the ground, resting his head over a couple of books.

"I'm sorry we had to take your car," he said.

A girl giggled with delight. "It's alright." She scooted closer, her hips touching his. "Your brothers need it for camping. And, besides, the Camry is a lot more comfortable to sit on."