I had all of November to heal up from the minor sore of Alex, and I took to healing well. Within hours after the Halloween party, I had downloaded an app and arranged a series of anonymous fucks to help knock his scent off me. In fact, a bunch of those guys even texted me afterwards and said I was the best I'd ever had and how they'd like to pursue long-term relationships with me. Being a total baller, I declined and reminded them that they were all nothing but a hole to me.
Just kidding. All of that is completely made up. In reality, I did the only thing I knew how to do when life gave me lemons: I turned them into powerful lemonade fuel for my legendary homework and test prep machine. I was a solid four years away from even thinking about the GRE, but figured why not pick up a prep manual for some light reading?
But November chugged onwards and I made plans to go home for the Fall break. I'd go home and reset all of this and try again in December. But before I could get home, three things happened:
--
First, there was Henry.
A day or so later, I'd gone to clean my room and noticed that my cowboy hat and boots had disappeared. Jake and Dean, who honestly might have taken to playing Cowboys and Indians with each other, hadn't seen them.
November was a tough month. I thought that September, my first few weeks of awkward college fitting in, would be the worst hell I'd endure that year. Turning back the clock of development and feeling like I'd learned nothing at all thus far turned out to be a lot more hurtful than trying to learn it all in the first place. Fuck Alex.
Henry, graciously, didn't bring up Halloween. Bless him. He let me retreat into myself just long enough to feel better, and then dragged me right back out into the light when it was time.
"Get up. We're going swimming." He said, slamming my door shut behind him. I jolted up out of bed, the sheet spilling over my leg. I brought my knees to my chest, concealing throbbing morning wood. I loved Henry, but could do without these unannounced plans. That morning, he wore a ballcap and gym shorts. His hair had grown just enough now to stick out in shiny auburn tufts. Henry had no care for temperature or season when it came to dressing himself. In the middle of a blizzard, he'd rise you from bed looking like he'd just taken his morning jog.
"It's November, Hen." I replied, rubbing my puffy eyes and pulling the sheet up over my crotch.
"See this?" He said, reaching down and grabbing at the skin of my stomach, "You don't get to keep that for free." I was embarrassed and flattered, and his fingers on my skin seemed to linger.
"But it's still November."
"Indoor pools have been around for a century, Connor. In fact, we both pay a tidy tuition for one. Look it up." With that, he bounded off my bed and started digging in my drawers for clothes like a dog digging through the bushes for a ball. Henry could oscillate the way we all did, from sad to happy, but he really only had two modes: Laborador or Golden Retriever. He was always on.
Then he started giggling, the worst possible sound out of someone who is presently going through your belongings. I leapt out of bed and grabbed at his shoulder but he easily kept me at arms length. He held it up and I rolled my eyes, falling back into bed, my legs dangling over the side. He held up a very thin, slightly sheer pair of underwear I had bought on a whim online. Not at a sex shop. I could never bring myself to go into a sex shop, much less buy a pair of underwear like that.
"You're such a dick." I said, smiling. There was something vaguely hot about Henry holding up a pair of my underwear, a thought which I'd need to work on burying later.
"But do these things even hold your dick?" He pointed to the very slight pouch.
"No, I'm just skinnier." I replied. He raised his eyebrows. "Not skinny like that. Like I have a small waist."
"Sure, sure, Connor. No judgement here." He rolled his eyes, making a show of folding them and putting them away. If seeing him holding my underwear was a turn-on, talking about dicks was next level. I could talk about dicks all day.
After triumphantly pulling a pair of high cut teal shorts from a box under my bed, Henry led the way out the door.
The pool on campus was located in the rec center, a gargantuan building of all glass and brushed steel. Very modern. I had fonder memories of the rec center back home, which was very 70s and yellowed. That yellowed shade of old books, old drywall, old carpet was comfy. It was home.
This rec center was not home and exactly the kind of situation you'd only find yourself in with Henry. He leaned over the front desk and whispered to the attendant, a student worker with blonde hair that looked like he might have spent too much time around chlorine.
"Two today, Todd." He said, grinning while snaking our IDs into his hand. Todd fumbled Henry's card and scrambled to pick it up.
"H-have fun in there, Henry." Todd said, slumping down in his desk chair. He wore a cute red polo and was definitively sporty. Todd was a "maybe" hot. I could get into it if he was hung, you know what I mean?
When we passed the desk, Henry's voice stayed low, "You'd never think I was a douche, right?"
"I already think you're a douche, Henry."
"No, but seriously, I think the front desk guy is into me. He freaks out like that every time."
"So did you drag me here to register him on my gaydar?" I flippantly replied.
"No," He turned to let me pass by him, holding the locker room door open, "I came to see you in a cute pair of trunks, duh."
I blushed, but kept a grip better than Todd-the-front-desk-guy had. He had a point, Todd was clearly at least severely disarmed by Henry. If anything, I was surprised it wasn't so common for Henry to encounter a daily swoon at his feet.
