Unnatural (24 page)

About thirty seconds before Mr. Blakeley was set to begin tryouts, Ronan bounded into the gym clad in his Speedo, a towel casually thrown over his shoulder, looking more muscular than Michael remembered. Even though Nakano recognized the look and understood that Ronan’s muscles had been given a boost since he had just fed, he, like Michael, had to look away to catch his breath. Fritz had no need to take such a pause. “Thought you were gonna chicken out, Captain!”

Ronan smiled and tossed his towel on the bleachers before shouting back, “Just giving the rest of you time to warm up, Fritzie.”

Michael noticed some dark black hairs growing in the cleft of Ronan’s chest and around the circumference of his deep brown nipples that he hadn’t noticed before. Were they new, he thought? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that they made him even more striking.

“Sounding a bit cocky, mate,” Fritz said. “Remember we’ve got an Ameri-can who might show you up.”

Ronan winked at Michael. “I think the American will do just fine.”

Again Nakano had to look away, but this time it was so no one would see him sneer. Fritz just laughed. “Oh, I’m sure you do, Ronan!” He didn’t get Ronan’s attraction to Michael or to boys in general, but he admired Ronan’s athleticism and sportsmanship, so he long ago decided to accept how Ronan felt and not question it.
Anyway, he didn’t have time to razz a teammate. Right now he had to concentrate on winning a starting spot on the team.

“The policy here at Double A is that any student who wants to join a sports team must be allowed to do so,” Mr. Blakeley explained. “A load of rubbish! If you bloody well stink, I don’t want you on my team. But I’m not the headmaster, I’m just a lowly gym teacher.”

Under his breath Fritz mumbled, “Lower than low.”

“I heard that, Ulrich,” Blakeley said. He didn’t have to turn to face Fritz to know that the boy’s dark complexion turned a few shades closer to white. “By academy rules, I am forced to give each and every one of you a place on my team regardless of your abilities. However, I do not have to make you a starter or even let you dip one mankie toe into my pool.”

Michael was completely surprised by this cantankerous speech. He had thought Blakeley, like his previous gym teacher, aimed to instill a sense of pride in his students with positive reinforcement and encouraging words, not intimidate them with threats. So much for thinking he could judge someone’s character. His fellow students were about to have the same revelation.

“Hey, where’s the Hawkman?” one of the boys shouted. “He’s always at tryouts.”

Blakeley tried to hide his contempt for his superior, but failed. “Our illustrious leader is M.I.A.”

“That’s two days in a row,” another boy said.

“Maybe he’s on a bender,” Fritz suggested.

“Hawksbry?” Penry replied. “Hardly. Steady like a hawk and all that.”

“Everybody’s got a secret,” Nakano added. “And all that.”

If Ronan weren’t so elated from his feeding, he would have understood there was cause for concern. The headmaster was the headmaster for several reasons, most notably, that he was, as Penry suggested, steady and unchanging. He would never disappear for even an hour without telling his assistant where he was. But for the moment, none of that registered for him. And as far as Blakeley was concerned, he would’ve let the Hawksbrybashing continue all day, but he had tryouts to oversee. “All right, enough! Within the hour you’ll know if I think you’re worthy to be on my team or if I think you should be our own personal kettle boy.”

Some of the boys chuckled nervously and although Michael had no idea what a kettle boy was, he knew by Blakeley’s derogatory tone that it wasn’t something he wanted to become. How quickly his confidence disappeared. He felt as inferior as he did in the hallways at Two W. He couldn’t shake the feeling until Ronan came up behind him and whispered in his ear, “I wouldn’t mind if you were my personal kettle boy.” Suddenly the prospect of being a kettle boy didn’t seem quite so bad.

Michael playfully tossed his towel over Ronan’s head. Just one look at Ronan’s face, open and smiling, his hair tousled as if he couldn’t be bothered to run a comb through it, and Michael couldn’t remember why he had
felt anxious only a few seconds earlier. Then Blakeley started shouting again, and he was reminded. “Eaves, Ulrich, Poltke, and Howard, in the pool.”

Michael felt his stomach somersault and then heard it growl. He had never tried out for a school sport before and now he was going to do so in front of his boyfriend and an antagonistic coach. He felt queasy from the pressure. “C’mon, Ameri-can,” Ronan teased, slapping his backside with the towel. “Show us what you got.” When Michael took his place at the edge of the pool, he still felt a bit disoriented, but for a completely different reason.

“Swim two laps! As fast as you can! You’re being timed!” Just before Blakeley shot his starter gun, he shouted again. “Hold on!” Instantly the four boys broke their starting positions and relaxed, not knowing what to expect next. Ciaran’s position was so low and angled he almost fell into the pool before regaining his balance and straightening up. “Poltke!”

“Yes,” Penry said.

“Didn’t you pass out the other day?”

“Flat on his back,” Ulrich replied for him. “After getting Imogene flat on hers.”

Despite feeling grand amid the approving cheers of his classmates, Penry knew he had to defend his girlfriend’s honor. “Don’t be a git, Fritz.”

“Did MacCleery say it was okay for you to try out?”

“Yes, sir. He said he couldn’t find a thing wrong with me and there was no reason why I couldn’t try out for the swim team,” Penry said, then quickly added, “He
also said that he was quite sure I’d make the starting team.”

Blakeley, like Mrs. Radcliff, had honed a special skill over the years and could tell when a student was telling the truth. Penry was. Even the last bit about the doctor’s guarantee. But Blakeley had an image to uphold and he couldn’t make it appear as if he were swayed by anyone else’s opinion, even a doctor’s. “Yeah, well, you might have fooled MacCleery, but you still have to convince me.”

With no further warning, Blakeley raised his hand, shouted, “Ready, set, go,” and pulled the trigger. Even though the gym was large, the blast was earsplitting and Michael could hear it echo from underneath the water after he dove in. The sound rippled over him until it was carried away by the current, and then just for a second, there was silence. Michael lay suspended, not moving, just letting the momentum propel him forward, not hearing anything except his own heartbeat and feeling it vibrate throughout his body. He always liked to swim, but here at Double A he felt that the water was beginning to change him, somehow make him even feel more alive. It was weird, but it was a feeling he was starting to love.

When his head emerged to take a breath, he heard Ronan and the others shouting, urging them to swim faster, faster, faster, and so he did. Kicking his legs vigorously, he used strength in his arms that he didn’t know he had. He had no idea what position he was in, he couldn’t see anything clearly, but he felt movement
all around him and so he decided to do what he thought was best and focus on himself and not on the others. It was a good strategy because if he had heard what Nakano was saying to Ronan, it would have shattered his concentration.

“Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?”

Ronan didn’t take his eyes off of Michael. “My life is no longer your business.”

“Well, if you’re not concerned about yourself,” Nakano sneered, “think about Michael.”

“He’s all I
can
think about.”

Not the response Nakano wanted to hear. “Then I suggest you be careful, for both your sakes.”

It’s not that Ronan didn’t hear the threat; he just knew that it existed even before Nakano spoke the words. No matter how Ronan responded, he wasn’t going to change anything; as long as Ronan was with someone other than Nakano, his ex-boyfriend wasn’t going to be happy. But the only way Ronan was going to be happy was with Michael. So he would just have to do everything in his power to keep them both safe. And of course remind Nakano that he wasn’t dealing with a novice. “You might want to take your own advice.”

Nakano didn’t like Ronan’s condescending tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

When Ronan spoke again, it was in such a hushed, low voice that no one around him except Nakano could hear, no one looking at him would even suspect that he
was moving his lips. “I’m talking about Penry, you idiot. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was hungry.”

“So what? You know the rules.”

How dare he scold me,
Nakano thought.
My life is none of
his
business and he’s no better than I am.
“You were about to feast on him yourself! You didn’t stop because of the rules, you stopped because you heard me and thought it was your precious Michael. You didn’t want him to see you with your mouth on another guy.”

Ronan knew Nakano was right, but he would keep that thought to himself. “It doesn’t matter why I stopped; it just matters that I did.”

“I made a mistake, Ronan; we’ve all made them before.”

For the first time, Ronan looked directly at Nakano. “Some of us having been making a lot more mistakes than others.”

“Sorry, chum, I forgot I was talking to Mr. Perfect,” Nakano replied, finding it very hard to control his voice so no one other than Ronan could hear. “You and your people think you’re so much better than everybody else.”

Because we are,
Ronan thought. “Whatever you say, Kano,” Ronan said. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to watch my boyfriend win this race.”

Contracting into a tight ball, Michael flipped and touched the end of the pool with his feet. He bent his knees and pushed off, twisting his body at the same time
so he could resume swimming. When he lifted his head again to breathe, he took a split second to see where he was in relation to the other swimmers. On his right he saw Penry about two arm lengths behind, one lane over and it looked like he was even with Ciaran. On his next breath, he looked to the left and saw that Fritz was about a stroke behind him, but since Fritz was taller, he could probably overtake him in fewer strokes. It was a tight race and Michael wouldn’t be satisfied coming in anything other than first.

Surprisingly, his satisfaction grew when Blakeley announced that he tied for first with Fritz. Being knowledgeable in such matters, Michael realized Fritz was less likely to torment him if they were equals. Ciaran, who came in a very close second, realized he was definitely not Michael’s equal when he saw Ronan extend his hand to Michael to help pull him out of the pool.

“I knew you’d win.”

“A shared victory,” Michael corrected, allowing his wet hand to hold on to Ronan’s dry one longer than necessary.

“You touched down first,” Ronan said. “Trust me, my eyes are much better than Blakeley’s.”

Michael couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, but it didn’t matter. He loved the fact that he was saying something to make him feel good. It was his turn to do the same. “Great race, Ciaran.”

Oh, how magnanimous is the champion
, Ciaran thought. “Thanks. You too.”

“Penry!” Blakeley shouted. “How do you feel?”

“Fine, sir,” Penry answered honestly. “Only a stroke or two behind.”

“Yeah, but you still came in last,” Blakeley reminded him.

Undeterred, Penry shrugged his shoulders. “Somebody had to.”

The next heat was about to begin. The late morning sun glistened through the windows, making Ronan look even more majestic as he stood, bent forward, shoulders bulging as his arms stretched behind him. Michael didn’t think he looked like a swimmer; his muscles were much curvier and not long and lean, his body built more for manual labor than gliding through water. In fact, if he hadn’t seen Ronan race previously, he would have thought Nakano would easily win, but he knew better. And he was right.

From the very first stroke, Ronan commanded the lead and never once faltered. Nakano couldn’t even hope to surpass him. Of course he had an unfair advantage—even without webbed hands and feet—he was a vampire who had just fed, the perfect combination of life and death, almost invulnerable and definitely unbeatable. But he didn’t let any of that spoil his win. He achieved what he wanted to achieve, seeing Michael look at him with an awed expression. “You were incredible.”

“Thank you, Michael.”

“I guess that’s why you’re the captain.”

Ronan wasn’t sure how, but he contained himself and didn’t kiss Michael right there in front of everyone. Instead he quipped, “One of many reasons.”

“Listen up,” Blakeley ordered. “For the second year in a row, Ronan is your team captain.” The loud cheers drowned out Fritz’s snide comment. “The starting team is Ronan, of course, Nakano, Fritz, and Michael.”

He did it; that’s all Michael could think of. He actually attempted something and succeeded. Some of the kids, including Penry, patted Michael on his back, but all he could feel was Ronan’s hand gripping his neck, rubbing up and down a bit until finally he mischievously slapped him on top of the head. Michael let out a shocked laugh. “I can do whatever I want,” Ronan said. “I’m your captain.”

Michael whispered back, “I’ll keep that in mind later tonight.” No one else heard his comment, but Michael didn’t even care. He checked off a goal; he had made the swim team. But then he realized that Ciaran didn’t.

“Team B,” Blakeley announced. “Not as good as Team A, but better than most everybody else, is led by Ciaran, Niles, Alexei, and despite MacCleery’s prediction, Penry.”

Ronan patted Ciaran on the shoulder and teased his brother. “Congrats, mate, you’re better than most everybody else.” Ciaran forced a smile. It was only placement on a team; it wasn’t like it really meant anything. Except that he wouldn’t be practicing alongside Ronan, who was his flesh and blood. He had to once again relinquish that position to Michael. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe
it was time to accept his role as second fiddle. Or maybe it was time to take some action.

“Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?”