Page 47 of Forever Yours

He and Jayson shared a truck, one they brought with them to CU. Ryder had his Hellcat, and there was always Uber, so Jayson wouldn’t be without a means to get around for a day. My old POS finally bought the farm two days before I left to come to CU. Dad took it to Ryder’s dad’s garage, and I was hoping it would be fixed by Sunday so I could drive it back to campus.

Julien hopped up and started digging through his small chest of drawers.

“We haven’t been on a date in a while. How about I take you out Saturday night? Dinner. A movie. The works. Then we can head to Highland Sunday morning, spend the day, come back around seven-ish.”

He held up a blue shirt and a pair of beige cargo shorts. I nodded my approval, and he placed the clothes at the foot of the bed.

“A date?”

“A romantic, woo-my-boyfriend date where I open doors for you, pull out chairs, buy you dinner, hold your hand, and make sweet, sweet love to you when we get home,” he clarified.

Hope swamped my chest and filled my heart.

“I’dreallylike that.”

Walking into the natatorium was like coming home. The overpowering stench of chlorine was better than any bouquet of roses. The facility was completely remodeled five years ago, according to the infographic out front in the lobby. A new digital scoreboard, message board, and banners hung above deck level. I passed by reception, heading toward the director’s office and stopped to gaze at the crystal-clear blue water of the Olympic-sized swimming pool, made even bluer by the painted bottom showcasing the CU logo. The Wildcat logo seemed to be plastered everywhere on campus, and on every flat surface: walls, floors, elevator doors.

The diving team also used the facility, as did the swim club. Craning my neck, I looked up at the various diving springboards placed at different elevated levels. I had an urge to climb up there and jump into the cool water, but instead, squatted down to dip a finger along its surface.

“Are you Elijah Barnes?”

Standing, I wiped my hand on the back of my shorts and adjusted the strap of my messenger bag.

“That’s me.”

A man wearing a blue polo with the CU swim team logo and a kind smile held out his hand in greeting.

“Charlie Winters.”

It was the same name woven into his shirt under the logo.

“You’re the swim director.”

I remembered seeing his name when I read up about the swim program while searching for student jobs. He was younger than I expected. Early forties, maybe.

“I am.”

I lifted the flap of my bag and pulled out the forms I was told I had to turn in with the job application.

“Do I give these to you?”

He took the application form and the certification copies I was able to print out on Ash’s inkjet he brought with him from home.

Mr. Winters’s green-brown eyes lifted from the papers. “Everything looks in order, but I have to ask. Why aren’t you swimming anymore?”

Surprised he knew I used to swim, I replied truthfully, “My dad is a single parent on a fixed income. A sheriff who works long hours. I wanted to help ease his burden, so I worked a job throughout high school to help out with the finances. Swimming was also expensive, and it took up most of my free time. Time I needed in order to work extra shifts.” I shrugged, embarrassed that I just spewed all that information all over him like a verbal geyser.

“Walk with me,” he said, and I followed without question. “I saw you swim a few times. My nephew went to Raleigh High, and I would come watch his home meets. I remember thinking you were one of the most talented swimmers I had ever seen. So damn fast in the water. Your breaststroke was phenomenal.”

I thought I was surprised before. He knew who I was and had seen me swim?

“What’s your nephew’s name?”

“Jared Winters.”

I mentally clicked through my memories of people I met at swim meets. Team members usually hung with each other while waiting for their heat and rarely mingled with the opposition.

“I think I remember him. Brown hair, blue eyes. Really tall.” I raised my hand three inches above my head to indicate the height.

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