Thirteen
My lungs had been on fire, the burning in my chest increasing with each pull through the water. When I finally reached the edge of the pool, I gripped the tiles weakly, trying to return the oxygen to my body. Gulping in air had never been so fucking difficult. As I tried to catch my breath, I glanced over at Coach Culver, our P.E. teacher. He was standing near the diving board with his hands on his hips and a look of satisfaction on his face as he watched Eli. It almost looked like the man was in awe, his eyes wide and a small smile printed across his face. I could understand where he was coming from though. The way that Eli's arms would just glide through the water and the relentless speed and energy within each of his movements was mind-boggling. The guy was like a fucking machine, never once pausing to rest or to take a breath, and the sick thing was that he was already at his fiftieth lap and it didn't look like he had any intentions in stopping any time soon. I, on the other hand, felt like i was dying. I was tired and hungry and thanking God every fucking chance I got that that was my last class of the day.
You'd think that I would have been used to the whole situation, being that Coach Culver, not only taught our P.E. class, but was also Lincoln's swim and dive instructor. The man wouldn't allow you to call him Mr. Culver; it was COACH Culver, nothing else. If you did happen to call him Mr. Culver, he would make you do either twenty laps around the track or twenty laps in the pool, depending on where our class was taking place. And favoritism: Jesus Christ! The man would look upon his swimmers and divers like they were fucking Buddha or something while the rest of us were like the piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe.
Even though we did other activities, such as basketball, soccer, baseball, none of them combined would have equaled the amount of time that we had spent at the pool. Most of the time, whenever the man wasn't looking at Eli, or some other person from his swim team, he had a look of disgust on his face. I don't know what he expected. You were either a swimmer or you weren't, simple as that. If you didn't make a point to swim two hundred laps every day, then chances were that you probably were going to suck hardcore at doing a mere ten. I was only one amongst the many who sucked hardcore, but at least I actually put forth some fucking effort. Apparently unused to the chill and exertion that usually came with swimming, a few of the guys merely floated idly in the water when they assumed that Coach Culver wasn't looking. Finally, after what seemed like hours of horrendous torture, he blew his whistle, signaling the end of the gym period.
"Five more laps, then get dressed and go home," he shouted. Jesus, did the man think this was swim practice or something? I rolled my eyes, flipped back into the water with a sigh and began my laps with reluctance.
My whole body felt like jelly as I practically crawled into the locker room. There were already a few people, who I recognized as being from the swim team, that were stripped down and in the showers. I pushed through a small throng of guys to get to my locker and saw Eli sitting patiently on the bench in front of it. He was already showered and dressed.
"Hey Kyle!" he greeted happily, his face melting into a smile. Oh Christ: a Tuscany angel.
"Shut up," I mumbled without any real malevolence. He only laughed as he gave my arm a soft punch.
"You wanna go over to the mall later? We can play some video games? Maybe go see a movie or something? Or are you doing something already?"
I hesitated. "Well, I was going to go over to Oliver's later on. He's having a couple people come over to play some cards and drink a few beers. Nothing special I guess."
"Oh, you mean Jordan Jordan's having people over?" he asked. A strange look passed over his face.
"Yeah, you going?" I asked while opening up my locker.
"Um, well..." he began, his voice trailing off. He cleared his throat. "I don't know...I mean...he didn't exactly invite me or anything," he said sounding suspiciously dejected.
I gave him a look before reaching into my locker for my towel and some clothes. I shrugged, "That doesn't fucking matter."
He looked down at his hands and blushed. "Well, I don't want to, you know, go if – if I'm not..."
"Invited? Welcome?" I supplied. He nodded.
"Eli, stop fucking worrying. If you wanna go, then go. Oliver doesn't give a shit. Besides, he asked me whether or not you were going to show up with me tonight," I said while slamming my locker shut.
He gave me a quick glance, his eyes lighting up. "He did? He really asked that?" he asked. This time he sounded suspiciously hopeful. I nodded.
"What did you say?"
I shrugged, "Said I didn't know. That he'd have to ask YOU if he wanted to find out so badly."
"Oh," he murmured.
"Besides, why do you care so much about what Oliver said?" I asked almost curiously. Again, he lowered his eyes to the floor and gave a small half-shrug.
"You going or what?" I asked him.
His gaze still locked to the floor, he seemed strangely at a loss for words. "I..." he began.
"Who's going where?" interrupted a harsh voice. I looked up and saw Brendan standing at the edge of the bench that Eli was sitting on. His hair was matted a little and a small pool of water was slowly forming beneath him. Apparently he had just finished swimming his laps. I groaned inwardly and rolled my eyes. Brendan didn't notice though. In fact, I don't think that he was even aware that I was present by the way his eyes were focused on Eli. It was almost like he was afraid that if he looked away, that Eli would disappear or something. It sort of freaked me out a little when I caught the unnatural glint within his stare. I wasn't sure, but I could have sworn that I sensed a mild tension beginning to grow within Eli. He began to fidget uncomfortably beneath Brendan's intense gaze. Nobody said anything and an awkward silence fell over the three of us. I was about ready to ask Brendan what the hell he was staring at until Eli suddenly spoke.
"To Jordan's house tonight."
Brendan laughed. "Humph. Thinking of trying out one of Oliver's orgies, huh?"
Eli blinked a few times. "Orgy?" he asked looking confused.
"Jesus, Brendan, they aren't that bad." I turned to Eli, "So are you going or not?"
"Whatever Kyle! You know that all of Oliver's parties end up with everyone getting wasted and fucked!" Brendan argued, glaring at me. My eyebrows rose at his harsh tone.
"Well, maybe it's better if I don't go," Eli said.
Our argument forgotten, both of us looked at him. Brendan's face fell in disappointment.
"No, c'mon Eli, you gotta go tonight," he begged. "Just try it out, you'll have fun, I promise. You can ride with me and if you don't feel comfortable then we can leave," he offered eagerly.
"Stop the fucking peer pressure Brendan. If he doesn't want to go, then he doesn't have to go," I said, exasperated.
"It's okay Kyle, I think that I'll go tonight. You know, this way I'll have a chance to get to know everyone a little better," Eli said.
A smile spread over Brendan's face. "Cool! I'll pick you up then at about-,"
"Actually," Eli interrupted, "I was going over to Jordan's with Kyle," he said. The look he gave me was almost desperate.
Not really caring who rode with whom, I shrugged and Eli smiled happily at my response not noticing Brendan staring at him in disappointment.
"Eli…" he began. His eyes darted from Eli over to me then back to Eli again.
"Yeah?" Eli asked, glancing at him. A sheepish look came over his face at the sad eyes that Brendan was making at him. " Oh, sorry Brendan. It's – it's just that Kyle, well, I live with him, and – well…I just thought that this way, you wouldn't have to drive all the way out to our house, and…" his voice trailed off. Brendan's face began to turn red.
Brendan didn't say anything for a while and I began to wonder if he was going to start crying. His eyes were shining and I could see the Adam's apple in his throat bobbing rapidly. He looked blankly at Eli for a moment and then turned his gaze to me. I froze at the hostility that was held there. Where had that come from?
Staring at me the entire time, he mumbled, "Forget it," and walked away.
I hated memories.
Eli's journal lay untouched, next to me as I sat at home by the pool staring blankly. I felt a little better. Not anything like I had at Oliver's or when I had confronted Brendan. There were no ripples, no movement, or disturbance within the clear surface of the water. It was soothing, the stillness of it comforting to the senses, almost as if I were becoming that water. I didn't just like the idea of it; I loved it; the thought of actually having no worries or troubles. Because water, of course, isn't alive. I guess in a sick fucked up way, water could actually be considered dead.
There was a time when everybody got along. When the animosity between Brendan and me didn't exist and the two of us were more like brothers or close cousins instead of just friends. It wasn't as if the two of us were glued to one another. It was more like a mutual acceptance, comforted in our status with one another. Sometimes going on double dates, to parties, or just drive around all day or all night getting high off our asses. When I lost my virginity to Carol Anderson in the ninth grade, after Oliver, Brendan was the next person that I had told. And just whose door do you think that he made a point of knocking on at fucking three o'clock in the morning after fucking Debbie Cerisoli in the backseat of her daddy's Bentley? Mine.
It was almost laughable: for me to be close enough to somebody that I could tell them anything never believing for a moment that the closeness would eventually change. It was a little fucked up that it took another person hating my guts in order for me to even realize that I had even been close to them in the first place. I guess it wasn't so much that it hurt me really, more like this annoying mosquito flying around your ear when you're trying to sleep.
I took a cigarette from the crumpled pack lying next to me, lit it, and glanced at that dreaded journal, feeling almost afraid of what else it contained. Usually, the unknown failed in serving me any real fear, but maybe the threat of permanence was what freaked me out. I didn't believe that I had a whole lot to lose, but then again, a person's sanity could either cherish them or spit them into the sewer by however they chose to allow something to affect them. Perhaps that was what my problem was. Even though I didn't know what to expect, there was always the possibility that whatever I found, would eventually break down any remaining barriers of oblivion that I still possessed. And if that happened, then I would possibly have to face reality head on without any illusions or vague assumptions. I had just barely touched on any real depth or answers to any questions, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that I whatever I did find, would beat itself into my life, imprinting itself into my perception forever. Really, I had no idea just how right I was at that moment. Not a single fucking clue. But then again, I was the furthest thing that there was from being a God.
August 26, 1996
I'm just going to give a very quick run down of what my classes are like because between you and me classes are boring no matter how you describe them. Okay, let's see – first hour is homeroom (which I have with Kyle), second hour (the only class that I don't have with Kyle) I have Chemistry, third hour I have Trigonometry, fourth hour I have English, fifth hour I have Drawing, and sixth hour I have P.E., overall not too bad. I kinda wish that I had another art course though instead of gym for my last hour. But, it might end up being kind of cool. Kyle told me that the P.E. teacher, Mr. Culver, is also the coach of the swim team. I'm hoping that I'll get to talk to him some day after class about when tryouts are and stuff.
Brendan is also in my P.E. class. He freaks me out a little. I find him constantly looking at me. Well, not just looking, more like STARING. Whenever I'd turn around, I would find him standing behind me, watching my every move. I'd ask him a question and he would get this blank look on his face before answering me. It just made me feel very weird, like I was this giant sized bug or something.
There was this really pretty girl that came up to Kyle and me after lunch to give Kyle a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She was tall. Her hair was long and dark. One of those girls that you only see in the movies or on magazine covers. Kyle introduced us. Her name is Alyssa Vanders.
Kyle's friend Jordan is in my drawing class. Although he sort of stared out the window the entire time, I couldn't help but notice him. I'm not sure whether this really bothers me or not.
-Eli