Streamline (3 page)

“Shh.” Leo tried to comfort her. “I hope you told him he was an idiot. Nobody can just forget their father.” He wished that wasn’t true.

As they pulled into the parking lot, Audrey sniffed. “I told him he was wrong, yeah.”

Leo shut off the car and faced his girlfriend, enveloping her in an embrace. Their bodies pressed against each other, and Leo was definitely awake now.

“We can ditch practice if you want — go somewhere and talk about it.”

“Then you’d really be in trouble.” She sighed loudly. “C’mon, we don’t want to be late.”

They jogged into the weight room. Tuesday morning meant strength training. Their weekly schedule included practices before school four days a week and after school five days a week. It was grueling, but all the best swimmers trained twice a day.

Leo heard Audrey giggle as Alex Bradbury waltzed into the weight room behind them. The six-two junior had wavy black hair that stuck out in all directions. He wore a thick, white terrycloth robe over his T-shirt and shorts, along with striped Ralph Lauren socks and Adidas flip flops. Much to Leo’s amusement, Alex was notorious for bringing his own sheets when the team stayed at a hotel for out-of-town swim meets. The kid was quite a lovable snob.

“Laney!” Alex called in his breathy voice, joining her at the lat pull-down station. Elaine and Alex were lifting partners, as were Leo and Audrey, and the foursome often hung out when Leo’s father actually allowed him to leave the house.

Matt looked grumpy, likely tired from his late night at the restaurant — his
other
job. “Okay, people. Get to your stations!” Choosing to get the lunges over with first, Leo and Audrey collected their weights and stood on a mat before the mirrored wall.

Matt adjusted the stereo, and European techno music blasted out before he quickly ejected the CD.

“Maaaaatt,” Alex protested. “I brought that CD to pump us up!” Matt shook his head. “That techno crap couldn’t even pump up Michael Phelps,” he snarled. Glancing at Leo, Matt asked, “
You
don’t like it, do you?”

Leo held out his hands noncommittally. Matt rifled through the disks scattered on top of the stereo. The folksy strains of the Grateful Dead filled the room as Matt started them on the circuit.

“Now
that’s
weightlifting music,” he muttered.

Seven stations into the circuit, Leo and Audrey did squats while Alex and Elaine worked their chests at the bench press station. Leo felt sweat slide down his legs as he lowered his body, clutching the weighted bar across the back of his neck.

“Good form, Leo,” Matt called from across the room.

While Audrey took some plates off the bar before her turn, Leo watched Elaine and Alex adding twenty-five pound plates to their bar. When Elaine flattened herself on the bench, Leo wrinkled his forehead. “Wait a minute. Does Elaine lift
more
than you, Alex?” Assuming the spotting position behind the bar, Alex gave him a wounded look. “Shut up, Leo! Look at Laney’s biceps! I could
never
lift as much as her!”

Chuckling, Audrey heaved the squat bar up to her chest and then over her head, resting it on her neck and shoulders as she lowered into a squat. Her lean muscles strained against the burden.

“Audrey, keep your back straight,” Matt instructed. When she continued to struggle, he added, “Leo, help her with her form, will you?” Leo nodded and came up behind Audrey, wrapping his hands around her hips to steady her. She seemed to shiver. Leo smiled and leaned in closer. “I think your form’s absolutely perfect, Rose,” he whispered.

He guided her through a couple more repetitions before he noticed Matt standing next to them, scowling.

“Get a room, you two.”

“Yes, sir.” Leo stifled a grin, and Audrey blushed. Matt returned to the other side of the room, and Leo again whispered in Audrey’s ear.

Five minutes later Leo watched Audrey approach Matt, gingerly holding her arm. “Um, Matt, I think I did something to my elbow on the triceps machine. Okay if I go get some ice?” Matt scowled. “Okay. Tell me how it’s feeling this afternoon.” Audrey skipped out of the room.

After waiting a beat, Leo approached Matt. “May I go to the restroom, sir?”

Matt nodded and waved Leo off, turning his attention back to yelling at two sophomores for pausing too long between sit-ups.

Once Leo cleared the door, he sprinted to the men’s locker room, where Audrey waited for him with hungry eyes. He grabbed her and drew her body flush. Their sweat intermingled as they attacked each other with urgent kisses.

Weightlifting had been amazing foreplay, and now their hands were all over each other, sliding over slippery, sweaty skin. Audrey exhaled as Leo knelt and lifted her shirt to ply her abdomen with hot kisses, his tongue licking drips of sweat. She skated her hands through his hair, massaging his head and clutching his skull. Shivers of excitement crawled up his spine.

After several minutes of mixing hormones, sweat, and skin, Leo heard a man clear his throat and broke their embrace. As he scrambled to standing, his throat tightened with fear. Audrey tugged down her shirt and smoothed the fabric of her shorts, her face blushing crimson.

“What are you
doing
?” Matt shuddered. “Check that — I have a good idea what you’re doing. Why are my two team captains skipping valuable practice time to get it
on?”
Leo took a deep breath. “We’re just doing what you told us, sir.” Matt squinted in confusion.

“You told us to get a room.” Leo held his breath.

Slowly the corners of Matt’s mouth turned up. He shook his head slowly. “Freaking hormonal teenagers. Get your butts back to the weight room.”

Leo grabbed Audrey’s hand, and they scampered back to practice as Matt muttered behind them.

“
Teenagers
.”

Mary Scott scrounged through the box of Christmas ornaments and sighed.
December fifteenth — the year has gone quickly.

At least Leo had finally sent his application for nomination to the U.S. Naval Academy to Senator Frees. James seemed pleased his son had completed this first step, though it was nearly impossible to make James happy these days.

It had been so fun to decorate the house for Christmas back when they’d lived in Maryland. Each year Mary and the three “boys” had slogged through the snow to pick out a grand evergreen at a tree farm. Now in Florida, the eighty-two-degree temperature hardly put her in a festive mood, and these boxed reminders of a happier past filled her with sorrow.

Inhaling suddenly, Mary pulled out a framed photo of the family from twelve years ago and ran her hand across it.

She and James stood proudly in their crisp, black dress uniforms, flanked by ten-year-old Jason and five-year-old Leo. James had one arm around Mary and the other resting possessively on Jason’s shoulders, while Mary’s sweet Leo was close by her side. All were smiling and carefree in their annual holiday photo.

Mary felt a catch in her throat as she thought about how they’d all changed since then.

She’d met James in Annapolis, where she’d been a young engineering instructor at the Naval Academy. A plebe with incredible hazel eyes had shined in her class — when he’d actually made it to class. Midshipman James Scott had a penchant for fistfights, which often led to marching punishments that cut into his study time. He’d come to her office for tutoring to catch up, and Mary had developed a soft spot for the troubled student.

At first guarded, James had gradually grown to trust Mary.

Eventually he disclosed that his parents had died when was eleven, and he’d fought his way through foster homes since then. Somehow James had reined in his aggression enough to graduate, and when he returned to the Academy as an aeronautics instructor, he sought out Mary to repay her kindness. They’d married within three months of his return, and she was soon pregnant with Jason.

For the most part, their relationship had been happy. Although her parents had been concerned about her interracial marriage, James had eventually won them over with his charisma and devotion. The couple’s one ongoing disagreement involved James spanking the boys when they misbehaved. He insisted his sons needed structure and physical discipline to survive as men, and Mary tried to balance out the strict punishments with warmth and love, though she was certainly no pushover.

This family togetherness had all come to a crashing halt six years ago. Shuddering as she sat with the Christmas ornaments, Mary remembered the betrayal she’d felt that night. She’d sprinted away from James, fleeing to her car through blinding tears and driving off like a madwoman. She’d screamed when the headlights suddenly shone over her hood. She slammed on her brakes, but it was too late.

She recalled very little from the year following the accident. She’d been in a coma for days, and the rehabilitation for her shattered legs — the wheelchair, the leg braces, and canes, the permanent dis-ability from the Navy — had paled compared to the devastation of the family. They’d never been the same.

Still holding the photograph, Mary struggled to stand, balancing precariously on her canes. Feeling a familiar throbbing pain in her legs, she reached to the end table for her bag and the bottle of Oxycontin inside. For some reason, she seemed to be running out more quickly than usual.

Finding himself alone in the locker room, Leo popped an Oxycontin and chased it down with some Gatorade.

This stuff was awesome.

At first he’d taken a pill for one specific purpose, but now he found all kinds of reasons he needed them. Butterflies fluttering in his stomach before a swim meet? Check. Sore muscles after a grueling practice? Check. Anticipating his father exploding with violence against him? Check. Needing to act respectfully toward his father despite being fil ed with rage? Check. Crushing sadness observing the shell of a woman his mother had become? Check.

The only thing Leo didn’t like about the Oxy was stealing it from his mother. He was disgusted with himself every time he snuck into her bag or medicine cabinet. He was also terrorized by the thought his father might catch him in the act. And pretty soon his mother would figure out her pills were going missing, so Leo had to find another supply. He just had no clue about how to score drugs.

Leo jumped a little as Eric waltzed into the locker room, dripping wet, to rummage through his locker. He retrieved his asthma inhaler and took a couple puffs. “Yo, Scotty. You comin’ out to warm-up or what? You’re late.”

“Thanks for being my personal freaking wristwatch.”

Eric took a step back. “You’ve become an ass, Leo. I’m starting to regret voting for you as team captain.” Huffing, he stomped out of the locker room, leaving Leo to stare after him.

Had
he been an ass? He’d been feeling a little irritable lately, but the Oxy always seemed to calm him down. Leo grabbed his goggles and headed out to the pool.

The competition course was set up for twenty-five yards. Jumping into a crowded lane, Leo began his meet warm-up. Matt allowed the swimmers to choose their own warm-up, which Leo appreciated, and he followed the same routine for every meet: several easy lengths followed by stroke drills and sprints off the block. This time as he finished the last sprint, he tried not to notice how sluggish he felt.

Hugging the gutter, he watched Audrey towel herself off and put on sweats before climbing the bleachers to say hello to her mother. It was obvious where his girlfriend had gotten her reddish-brown hair and rich brown eyes. Mother and daughter squeezed each other in an extended hug.

When Mrs. Rose stifled a yawn, Leo remembered Audrey saying something about her mother coming home late last night from Alabama. Then Audrey laughed.
Mrs. Rose probably just botched some
swimming terms,
Leo thought, a smile on his own face. Audrey’s mother was clueless about the sport, in contrast to her over-involved father.

It was so beautiful to see his girl laugh. Her head tossed back, spilling auburn hair over her shoulders, and her lightly freckled face glowed with warmth. She hadn’t laughed much since her father’s conviction. And Leo certainly hadn’t been making her laugh like he once could.

Leo hopped out of the pool as Audrey climbed back down the bleachers and huddled up the girls’ team for a cheer. He smirked as he dried off while watching their stupid cheer, complete with choreography. He snuck a look over at the Tallahassee Tritons gathered across the deck. Leo hoped they wouldn’t judge Pensacola based on the girls’ cheer.

The guys wouldn’t be caught dead doing anything that involved dancing — their cheers focused solely on amping up. As soon as the girls were finished, fifteen male swimmers congregated around Leo on the deck. He dug deep to generate some excitement. No matter how he felt, it was expected of him as team captain.

He yelled the first line in a raspy yet powerful voice, and the team chanted back, clapping to the beat: Leo: I went down by the river!

Team: Oh yeah!

Leo: Took a little walk

Team: Oh yeah

Leo: Met up with a tiger

Team: Oh yeah

Leo: And we had a little talk

Team: Oh yeah…

The clapping and energy came to a crescendo, and the team was a frenzy of testosterone by the end of the cheer.

Buoyed by his teammates, Leo now felt like he might jump out of his skin. Why was it so hard to feel normal now? Shaking it off, he high-fived the closest teammate, but sobered when he saw his father standing in the bleachers, watching him sternly. Looking away, Leo trotted over to his swim bag and guzzled from his water bottle. He stood apart from the team and planned ahead for the 50 freestyle.

He watched Audrey, Elaine, Susan, and Kelly gather for the 200

medley relay. They were going after the school record, and Elaine looked particularly fierce as she lectured the two sophomores. When she finished, they lined up with five other teams, ready to start. Only the Tallahassee team offered any competition.

Alex came to stand next to Leo. “Go, Laney!” he cheered. “Go, my little hag!”