Once he was alone, he didn’t bother going to get his trunks. Instead he walked back to the pool, threw his pjs and T-shirt onto the ground, and jumped right in. He swam around for a while, sometimes breaking to float on his back and get warm from the sun before diving back down to the bottom and turning flips all the way back up. He hadn’t heard the doorbell inside, so he had the absolute shit scared out of him when he popped up from the water to take a big breath and Clark Robbins was standing at the edge of the pool with a huge smile on his face.
“Holy shit!” Solomon yelled, quickly covering his privates with both hands and going back underwater.
He thought maybe it was all a hallucination, some weird effect of all this swimming after so many years without it. But he opened his eyes and looked up to see the cloudy image of his friend looking down at him. Then, just as he was about to come up for air, Clark jumped in.
When his head was above water, he saw Clark’s clothes, all of his clothes, lying on the ground. He looked over where he’d jumped in and watched the shiny figure swim down toward the bottom. He was too embarrassed and paranoid to stick his head underwater and try for a better view, but he did consider it.
When Clark’s head popped up by the diving board, he looked right at Solomon and smiled.
“Don’t judge. It’s effing cold in here.”
“I’m not looking,” Solomon said quickly. “How’d you get in?”
“Door was unlocked,” he said, starting to swim closer.
“Weird.”
It was the first time Solomon had ever forgotten to lock the front door. Ever. And if very naked Clark hadn’t been swimming toward him, he would’ve had time to freak out about that, too.
“So this whole ploy . . . this swimming pool thing was just so you could skinny-dip, huh?”
“For sure,” Solomon said. “Caught me. I’ll go get my trunks in a second.”
“Nobody here but us.”
“Lisa?”
“Said she wasn’t feeling well. Told me to keep you company.”
Solomon, still naked, still covering his business with both hands, eyed his towel where it sat impossibly far away on a chair. Clark was just swimming around the pool behind him like everything was normal.
Solomon stayed in one spot for a while, unable to move, too embarrassed and confused and overwhelmed to do anything but try to seem like he wasn’t watching Clark. But how could he not be watching him? He was naked and swimming all around him. It was like every gay dude’s dream come true—a naked athlete floating around in the backyard. Or maybe it was just Solomon’s dream with this particular athlete. Either way, it was happening and his eyes didn’t know where to go.
“Hey,” Clark said, swimming up way too close to him. “You’re blushing.”
“Sunburn,” he said, trying his best not to look down.
“I’ll go get my shorts.”
Clark used both hands to pull himself out of the water and Solomon watched as he walked across the yard, his bare white butt right there for all the neighborhood to see. He took his swim trunks off the fence where he’d left them drying the night before.
And since Clark was looking the other way, Solomon quickly climbed out of the pool and wrapped a nearby towel around his waist.
“I’m going to go grab mine,” he said, walking across the yard and into the house.
When he returned, Clark was in the water doing a handstand. He waited for him to come up for air before jumping back in and then he swam to the shallow end and took a seat on one of the steps.
“You okay, man?” Clark asked, wading toward him.
“Yeah,” he said unconvincingly. “Totally.”
“Hey, look, I’m used to the locker room and a house with three brothers. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s not a big deal,” he said. “I just . . . I don’t know. Sorry I’m being weird.”
“Sol,” Clark said, moving closer. “It’s okay. You can look, just don’t touch.”
“Jerk,” he said, a smile forcing its way onto his face.
“Really, though. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. You’re like my brother or something, I just didn’t even think twice about it.”
Solomon went underwater, opened his eyes, and let the words echo and sink in and swim all around in his head. Like my brother.
He shook it off and challenged Clark to a race. Clark won, of course, but Solomon came surprisingly close, especially for someone so out of practice. He also couldn’t help being distracted by Clark, watching him as he moved through the water. He liked the way his hair looked when it was wet, slicked back like an old movie star. And he was fascinated by the little patch of dark hair Clark had growing in the center of his chest.
“I didn’t see that in your water polo pictures. The ones Lisa showed me,” Solomon said.
“I shave it during the season. Don’t make fun.”
“Hey, I can’t even grow one hair on my chest. Respect.”
“My dad looks like a grizzly bear with his shirt off. I’m so jealous,” Clark said. “I want, like, caveman body hair, the kind that hovers all around you, you know? That’s the manliest you can get.”
“And why do you need to be so manly?”
“Well, she won’t tell you, but it’s Lisa’s thing. She likes a real scruffy sort of guy. Maybe I should grow a beard.”
“Lumbersexual,” Solomon said. “I think that’s what they call it.”