The Swim Coach – Part 2: Open Water

The water at Clifton was cold enough to steal the breath from your lungs. Thabo waded in up to his waist, gasped, and shouted a word that made a passing couple with a dog stop and stare. Liam laughed so hard he nearly slipped on the rocks.

"You said you'd be warm," said Thabo.

"I said I'd be brave. I'm allowed to be cold while I'm brave."

"You're going to be very brave in the sea."

"I'm going to beat you to the rock," said Liam, and dived.

He was faster than ever in open water, cutting through the swell with long, sure strokes. Thabo followed, lungs burning, the cold biting his shoulders. The sea was bright and loud, the waves breaking white against the granite, and for once there was no lane rope, no stopwatch, no squad watching from the edge.

Liam reached the rock first and clung to it, grinning and gasping.

"I won," he shouted.

"You cheated," said Thabo, hauling himself up beside him.

"I did not cheat. I'm just very competitive about rocks."

They sat on the warm granite afterwards, wrapped in towels, watching the surf roll in below. The mountain stood green and solid behind them, the afternoon light turning the water to hammered silver.

"Can I ask you something?" said Liam.

"Yes."

"Why did you stop racing me, the first year? Before I came?"

Thabo pulled the towel tighter. "Because the last man I raced with left the squad," he said quietly. "We were training partners, and then we weren't anything. He wanted more than I could give. I was scared of being that close to someone again, and then it was easier to swim alone."

Liam was quiet. He shifted closer, the rough granite rough against his knee.

"And now?" he asked.

Thabo looked at him. The salt had dried on Liam's shoulders in pale lines, and his eyes were steady and warm.

"Now I'm sitting on a rock with the only man who ever made me want to race again," said Thabo. "And I'm very tired of being scared."

Liam let out a long, breathless laugh. "Can I ask you something else?"

"Yes."

"Would you let me kiss you, here, on the rock, with the whole Atlantic watching us lose our minds?"

Thabo's grin was slow and sure. "Yes," he said. "But if I say stop, you have to swim back to the beach without the towel."

"That's very cruel," said Liam, and leaned in.

He kissed Thabo slowly, his hand cold against Thabo's cheek, the taste of sea salt and warm breath between them. Thabo's fingers curled into the damp towel at Liam's shoulder, and he kissed back, steady and certain, while the waves crashed softly below.

When they parted, both of them were laughing.

"Green?" asked Liam.

"Green," said Thabo. "Very green. Now race you to the beach, Liam, and this time I'm not slowing down."

"Good," said Liam. "I've been waiting all year for you to stop being nice to me."

They dived in together, shouting at the cold, and swam for the shore, side by side, neither of them trying to win at all.