Page 89 of The Older Brother
“I love you,” he says against my mouth.
“I love you, too,” I echo.
And I let him go, because I have to.
The first night apart wasn’t easy. I didn’t really sleep, and I was only half listening to my roommate share stories about herself. Iwanted to be present, but it was hard when half of my heart was two hours away.
Last night was easier, though. Mostly because I had classes to locate before my first day, which was today. And the sheer expanse of campus doesn’t give me much wiggle room between my courses. My mom would be impressed if she saw the online planner I built to keep me on task—and on time—for the next three and a half months. Plus, now that I’m overwhelmed with the reading list from two of my courses on top of the swim schedule coach just locked us into for the season, I think I’ve accumulated enough distractions to not make it a week without seeing Rowan’s face.
I just finished my first afternoon swim session, and while I didn’t feel the drive I once did, I didn’t hate the water. Putting in the work was fun rather than an escape, and even being out of breath feels like a gold coin moment. I think I’m finding myself again, little by little, and I’m excited to see what parts of the old me come along to join the new.
“Nice work today, Saylor. I can tell you worked hard this summer. I’m excited to see your times,” Coach Cruz says as I fish my suit out of the spinner to take home with me to finish drying.
“Actually, I owe the credit to a bunch of twelve-year-old girls.”
My coach quirks a brow, and I laugh.
“I coached a youth team this summer, and it was just easier to get my laps in with them. Some of the girls were fast,” I admit.
Her mouth curves, and she leans against her office door as she folds her arms.
“Coaching, huh?”
I nod, and the excited butterflies finally flutter in my belly.
“I really loved it. I might want to investigate doing it more after I graduate.” I shrug, expecting her to placate my whimswith some positive coaching phrase. But instead, she straddles the bench and tilts her head to the side as she peers up at me.
“I know you’re only a freshman, but how do you feel about being a captain?”
The weight of that responsibility stops my heart at first, but when my pulse kicks in again, the butterflies are back.
“Would it make some of the uppers upset? I don’t want to step on toes. I respect the pecking order,” I say, though really, I think that’s all bullshit. The best should be in the pool. And I have a feeling Coach Cruz feels the same way.
“Maybe, at first. But the ones who have a problem are the ones who don’t put in the work anyhow, so maybe it’s the nudge they need to get their shit together. What do you say?”
I shut my locker and spin my key ring in my thumb, trying to imagine myself in the role. It’s easier to do than I expected. I look back at my coach and nod.
“I say hell yeah,” I say. She holds out a fist, and I pound my knuckles against hers, riding the flutter of competition in my belly all the way to my car just outside the facility.
I can’t wait to share my news with someone, but I’m not quite ready to move my mom into my go-to call list. It’s almost closing time for the garage, though I’m sure Rowan is buried underneath some car while Radiohead blasts in his ears. It’s always been the water for me, but for him, it’s the underbelly of a vehicle.
I swipe his contact to call him, then let my phone ring on speaker as it rests on my thigh. He picks up after a half ring.
“Wow, were you just sitting there waiting for me to call?” I picture him like one of those contestants waiting to ring a buzzer.
“Uh, no. You’re in my ears,” he admits.
“Oh,” I deflate a little, and he must be able to hear it in my tone.
“But I wore EarPods just in case you called,” he quickly interjects. My smile returns, and I swipe over his name to pull up the photos of us together that I saved along with his info.
“I had my first swim day,” I say.
“And?”
“And . . . I liked it,” I say, moving the phone to my cupholder before I clip my wet hair into a knot on top of my head.
“Coach wants me to be captain,” I share.
