Page 10 of Teach Me To Sin

He throws a folded towel into my face, so I drape it over my head like a little kid at bath time and follow him over to the bench on the wall. My ass leaves a puddle on the gray plastic as I peek over his shoulder at the clipboard. “These are your times,” he announces, running his finger down a column of messily scrawled numbers.

There’s a long pause, like he expects something from me, so I peer up at him and flutter my eyelashes. “They’re unbelievable, right?”

He snorts and yanks the towel down over my face. “They’re mediocre at best. But, Benji—”

Shit, why does he have to say my name so nice? Every time I calm down, he winds me up again.

“If we concentrated for the next couple of years on building your strength and fixing your bad habits, I think you could have a good chance at the Olympic trials.”

“That’s fine, I didn’t– Wait, really?” I gape at him, my ears ringing a little. He’s talking about professional coaching and Olympics andyears. No one has given me years of themselves, no teacher or friend or even family. I’ve never been worth it.

“Let me show you something.” Alek hunts through videos on his phone until he finds the one he’s looking for. “As soon as I saw you swim, you reminded me of this Australian I used to compete against. People said his swimming was boring and basic, even ugly.”

“Oh, thanks.” When I grin at him from under the towel, he struggles to fight off his own smile.

“Justlistento me. I loved his style, and he swept the Olympics the year Victor had to drop out. Watch.”

He slides the towel off my head and drops it to the side, then holds out his phone between us. My messy, damp hair brushes his ear as I prop my hand on the bench behind him and lean in.

A jacked swimmer with a deep tan tears his way through the 200m freestyle like a machine, every one of his breaths and movements identical. Alek prods the tiny screen eagerly. “If we trained you in this style, it would fit your natural strengths and you’d make tremendous progress.”

“Get your finger off his face and maybe I could see.” I bat his hand away, then grab it when he tries to point again. “Nah, I could never look like that.”

When I go to close the video, Alek twists his fingers free and catches my wrist, pinning it against his chest. I can feel him laughing. “Let him finish, for Christ’s sake.” His voice sounds lower next to my ear, and his heart beats a pattern against the back of my hand. I’d like to imagine everyone has a different heartbeat, like fingerprints, but in the end I guess we all sound pretty much the same.

As the swimmer hits the wall a second before his competitors, he throws up his fists and whoops while the crowd screams. He looks like he’s having the time of his life.

If I had one chance to be that happy, would I take it? If I found the smallest hope of escaping the future my father has for me, would it be worth ruining someone else’s life on the way?

“What do you think?” Alek asks quietly.

“I think you’re crazy.” When I glance up, our faces are only a few inches apart. Heneedsto be kissed. By me. Sweet, then desperate. Why the fuck does he have a girlfriend?

I didn’t realize we were both holding our breaths until he sucks in a gulp of air and drops my hand, scrambling to his feet. “I’d start you on fundamentals three days a week, while you do conditioning the other four until you’re ready to hit the pool every day. We’ll concentrate on endurance, then speed. You could do the charity meet we’re putting on in a few weeks, then travel to some bigger ones to get times on record.” His rush of words slows when he sees my expression. I probably look like I’m drowning. “Sorry, I’m being too much. It’s a problem I have.”

“Um.” I sound completely lost, because I am. The angel and devil on my shoulders are shouting over each other until I can’t think. “I don’t…I don’t know. Can I have some time?” My body’s so tired that my legs almost collapse when I get up and pull on my clothes.

He tries not to look disappointed, but doesn’t quite succeed. “Of course. I’ll give you my number.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

I’m halfway to the door when he says “Hey” in a small, vulnerable voice. He looks lost in this gloomy room all by himself. “I know who I am, and I know people are going to say horrible things if I start coaching. Maybe they’re right. So if your hesitation has anything to do with me, I understand. I’ll be happy to get you in touch with a real coach.”

My stomach sinks and curls in on itself, but I force myself to give him a crooked smile. “No, you’re good. I’ll let you know.” Waving awkwardly, I hurry into the hall and out the nearest door I see before I can make anything worse. The sunset has stained the last tatters of storm clouds a deep purple, and the air smells like rain on asphalt.

I took the bus here, my first time on public transit, because I didn’t want to deal with Gideon. But it was honestly super gross, and now I’m too wound up and miserable to deal with it. After texting the piece of human excrement to come get me, I sit against the wall with my knees up and rainwater soaking into the ass of my shorts. I close my eyes and imagine I got into the passenger seat of that Porsche, surrounded by the smell of that sexy guy, maybe with his hand on my leg. My body’s sparking like a live wire, but it doesn’t know if it wants him or the sweet, tired man who just offered me the world. Jesus. I need to jack off at least ten times, but that won’t fix the fact that I feel like I tried to swallow a bowling ball made of guilt.

My least favorite gray SUV pulls up twenty minutes later, after my teeth start chattering in the damp evening breeze. Jumping up, I yank open the passenger door and throw myself into the seat. Gideon has the ass warmers going, because he knows I hate them. I squirm and rub the dirty water from the butt of my pants onto the leather seats so he’ll have to clean them later. My skin crawls as he stares at me with flat, blue eyes. At least during the day he wears sunglasses.

“Whatever you think is going to happen, cool it,” I tell him, fixing my gaze on the road. “I don’t owe you anything tonight.”

He starts silently weaving through cramped streets toward the eastbound bridge. As the sky darkens, the city lights turn the flecks of water on the car into tiny jewels. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen; I prop my temple against the window and unfocus my eyes, letting myself be mesmerized into a thoughtless haze.

Gideon tries to grope me on the bridge, his big hand fumbling around my crotch. I’m not his personal slut boy; I only offered to blow him a few times when I needed the freedom to sneak out without word getting back to my dad. Tonight, I don’t have any secrets to keep. “Cut it out, fuckwad.” I slap his hand away.

“Shut up. You owe me for driving all the way across the city.” He tries to shove his thick fingers up the leg of my shorts.

“It’s your damn job. You’re literally paid for this.” When I push his arm, he grabs my wrist. “Get thefuckoff me.” Twisting in my seat, I kick the steering wheel and the whole car slaloms erratically.

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