Late Eight

Late Eight
By Systematic

I woke up early with Sandy still in my arms. He was holding me very tightly, and he’s a sound sleeper. We must have drifted off without remembering that he wasn’t supposed to sleep in here – but the only one who would notice would be Red, and she already suspected. Even if I couldn’t convince her that we hadn’t been up playing video games all night, she wouldn’t spill. So I relaxed. Our Saturday morning was lazy, and Sandy and I went to school together. I had practice, and he had student council work to do.

Even though I was hurt, I was still expected to show at the field.

“No, Late. You’re a part of this team. You need to be involved. You’re going to be there on the sidelines today.”

“Okay, sure. I’ll just be right back.” I slipped away. Yeah, I wasn’t going to be right back. The thought of sitting there and watching the team practice made me want to sign up for advanced trigonometry. Not on your life, Coach.

But I didn’t want to climb stairs, either, which limited the number of places with ideal napping conditions. It was too hot outside. Way too hot in the greenhouse. I doubted the redhead and her boy would be back there, but I steered clear just in case. All these chance encounters were robbing me of a lot of rest.

I spotted swim team members coming out of the girls’ locker room. Had they wrapped up early? It looked like it. I watched with interest. It was air conditioned in there. There wouldn’t be anyone else there all day. No stairs to climb, and because of the slow pace necessitated by my injury, Sandy and I had been making love late into the night. I was urgently sleepy, and the locker room was right in front of me. I waited for several minutes after the last girl emerged, then slipped in. Of course it was deserted. And it smelled so much better than our locker room.

I found a tile and wiped down one of the benches, which was damp, then used it as a pillow. In moments I was fast asleep. The door opened and I awoke. Unlike Sandy, I am a light sleeper for obvious reasons. There are a lot of situations I can talk my way out of, but being found in the girls’ locker room isn’t one of them. I was hidden in a locker before the door was fully open. I am an athlete, after all.

I didn’t want to be there, but I was curious to see who’d be coming in here when the only people at school were the football team, the newspaper club, and the student council.

It was Kylie from my class, and Miranda, our PE teacher. Kylie was wearing her school suit, and dripping wet. Miranda was wearing hers too, but she had on a sweatshirt, which was just long enough to tease me when she leaned over. I’d known for a long time that she had a great body. Kylie’s also very sleek and fit. Next to me, she’s easily our school’s best athlete. Her hair was pulled back, but she untied it as she set her bag on the bench I’d been sleeping on.

Kylie was to the swim team what I was to the football team. Miranda had kept her late for some one on one coaching, very common with key players. I should have checked the pool before I came in here.

“You want to tell me what’s on your mind?” Miranda asked, stepping out of her flip flops.

“I’m okay.”

“Come on.” She patted the bench beside her. She’s fairly young, and maybe the best teacher at our school. I like her a lot, and as the coach of the swim team, it made sense that she and Kylie would have a special rapport. “You’re twisted up about something, I can tell. You can do much better than you did this morning.”

Kylie reluctantly sat down and hunched over.

“Anything you tell me stays between us,” Miranda assured her. “I’ll help you if I can. I need you in top form. I know you have a lot on your plate with the council and everything.” She waited patiently.

“I did something weird and I don’t know what to think about it,” she said.

Miranda looked curious. I was curious too, though I felt truly terrible about listening to this. This wasn’t like my usual inadvertent voyeurism. Watching people have sex in foolish places is one thing, listening to them spill their guts was something else. It felt especially dirty that it was Kylie, someone I knew and respected, even if I didn’t exactly like her.