“Who the hell are you?”
I bit my lip, and tried to look tough.
“I’m, er, Eric. I’m new here?”
The scary swimming-teacher turned away, and gestured at the pool.
“Well, get in.”
“Actually, I…”
“What?!”
“I pulled a muscle today, so I can’t swim. I have a note…”
He glared at me, and I quivered. But then my eyes were drawn to the things behind his head. The thirty or so hot, wet guys contorted in the water, moving rhythmically. I had to close my mouth to stop the drool from coming out.
“I don’t care,” the coach swimmer guy snarled, bringing my attention back to him. “You get into the water now. Right now.”
“But…I can’t.”
“NOW!” he yelled.
I felt like I was going to cry. I can’t…I can’t –
“Sir?”
I turned around, and happened to be able to catch sight of Tyler Anderson as he heaved himself out of the pool. Okay, yum. His hair dripped water down his long, lean body. I could appreciate every single toned muscle as he walked towards me. This time, I couldn’t stop the drool from coming out of my mouth (okay, figuratively. Realistically, I was probably just looking dazed).
“Eric has asthma. It’s been something that’s affected him since birth, but he’s allergic to the inhalers. If he does anything that triggers his asthma, he’ll have to go to the nearest hospital in the next five minutes, or he could die.”
The coach guy glared at me, like it was my fault. I tried to look like what Tyler said wasn’t a load of crap, by nodding (my years as an actor were definitely not wasted then). He seemed satisfied, and grunted something that sounded like, “fine-kay.”
“Thanks,” I whispered to Tyler, when the swimming coach guy moved away. “I owe you one.”
“S’okay,” he said, smiling. I looked down. Somehow, he’s gotten my hand, and he was squeezing it. When I looked up again, I was grinning (even though he was kind of dripping water onto me). “So I wanted to ask you…”
“Yes?”
“Why are you here?” he asked, lowering his voice so the nearby splashing guys frolicking in the water wouldn’t be able to hear us.
My smile was gone. I had to tell him, right? But then that would ruin the whole movie – I wasn’t meant to tell anyone I was the main character until it came out.
But he already knew.
“I’m here because I’m going to act in a movie,” I said.
“And this is a ritual you have to go through before every movie…?”
“No…the Director wants authenticity in his movie, and so I have to practice. You know, being a guy.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“So he sent you to an all-boys boarding school?”
“Uh huh.”
“Is he mental?”
I smiled.
“Probably.”
He smiled back. Then I realized exactly what we looked like. Two guys, one in swimming trunks and dripping wet, holding hands and staring into each others eyes while smiling. I pried my fingers from his hand, and tried not to blush.
