Nope. It’s not because of that. Not at all.
Six
Polish and Brighten
ANTON
I am the last man on Earth who should coach swimming lessons. I don’t really like the water. But teenagers should know how to swim, so they’ll like it better than I do.
This is a selfless act on my part. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
“Are we going to lift?” Drake asks me on our way out of the meeting. “It’s chest day.”
“Of course we’re going to lift.” This is the season where I will take nothing for granted. “Let’s go.”
The weight room is a little crowded today, because everybody has the same idea. But that’s okay. Drake and I make good use of the bench, and I like the camaraderie of the weight room during the season.
Plus, there’s gossip. Castro’s wife wants to redecorate their apartment. O’Doul picked a date for his wedding. And Beacon got a dog.
“I got a teenager and a toddler,” he jokes. “It’s chaos already. Why not add a dog?”
“Bring on the chaos!” somebody else yells.
“I don’t know,” Drake says, adding a plate for my last set. “It’s going to be different around here. With the women and all. Now that’s chaos.”
“How do you figure?” I ask. “They have their own weight room. Their own locker room suite, too. They won’t be in your way.” I take a breath and then lift the bar overhead, grunting like a beast.
“But they’re still here in the building,” he points out. “We might have to change our behavior. Clean it up a little.”
“Do you mean, like, fart less often?” someone asks.
“Exactly,” he says gravely.
“Dude, what?” Castro yelps. “Nobody can just decide to fart less often. Your ass might explode.”
“But you could do it quietly,” Drake says, and he’s completely serious. If I weren’t pressing nearly three hundred pounds of iron over my body, I might laugh.
“Look,” Trevi says. “You’re overreacting. There have always been women in the building. My wife, for starters.” She’s Georgia, the co-head of publicity. “There’s a female trainer, a female massage therapist. There are women in the front office, the travel department, the GM’s office. A woman owns the whole damn team!”
“But that’s not what he means,” Jason Castro says as he wipes down the leg press. “He means there are women in the building doing his same job. They’re not support staff. They’re also the stars of the show. His fragile male ego has taken a hit.”
“It has not,” Drake argues. “You’re putting words in my mouth. I simply meant that the tone around here is going to change some. I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
“You’re afraid of the Bombshells,” someone teases.
“Yeah, especially that angry redhead.”
“I’m not afraid of her,” he grumbles. “Just, uh, a little wary.”
“Huh. You do look a little pale, my friend,” Leo says. “Have you tested your blood sugar lately?”
Drake gives him the finger and marches out of the room.
I’ve finished my last set when Drake comes tearing back into the room. “Guys! You’re not going to believe this, but the locker room is different.”
“Since yesterday?” I ask, skeptical.
“Yeah, there’s some strange thing in the toilet stall. A device.”
“A strange device,” Trevi muses. “Like, a bidet? They were doing some renovations.”
“No, it’s not a bidet. Look.”
A few of the players follow Drake into the locker room, including me. But I was headed there anyway. Soon, we’re crowded in front of a toilet stall. “Look,” Drake says, eyeing the metal unit on the wall. “What’s that?”
Castro is the first to laugh. And then so do I. “It’s…”
“Just…” Tankiewicz howls.
“Maxi…pads…” I can’t breathe. “And tampons!”
“Don’t you have a sister?” Castro snorts.
“But what’s it doing in our locker room?” Drake demands. “Are we being evicted?”
“No, fool,” Castro says. “Maybe they hung it in here by mistake. Calm down, man. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Drake crosses his arms, still looking unsettled. “But there are other changes, too. There are cotton balls and Q-tips by the sinks.”
“Huh.” I strip off my sweaty practice shirt and toss it into a laundry hamper. “That’s good. We need clean ears so we can hear Coach yelling at us.” I strip off the rest of my clothes and grab a shower stall. The water is the perfect temperature, proving that everything that really matters is still the same.
There’s a new shampoo dispenser in here, though, so Drake will probably make a big deal out of that, too. Before, there was just one product in here—a three-in-one soap that was supposed to clean every single part of my tired body. And that was fine.
Now there are choices. The first dispenser contains a lemon-verbena body wash. The second is a shampoo for dry hair—with avocados and coconut. There’s also one for volume, with bamboo extract.
I like both avocados and coconut, so I push the button for that one. Easy choice. My shower takes three minutes, because I’m quick like that.
When I step out to grab a towel, Drake is stepping out of the stall next to mine. “Holy hell. Will I smell like a woman now?”
“Nah,” I say. “There’s nothing feminine about coconuts. Big, hairy nuts? Come on, man.” I grab a towel and toss him one.
“Where will it end, though?” He shakes like a wet dog. “Look, there are new products on the sinks. What is that?”
I walk over and pick up one of the bottles. “This one says Daily Perfecting Cream. It claims to polish and brighten.”
“You could stand to be brighter,” Leo cracks. “Try that one.”
I give him the finger.
“Careful!” Drake barks. “We can’t just spread any random thing on our bodies.”
“Then why do you pick up jersey-chasers in bars?” Castro cracks from inside a shower stall.
“I’m serious. You don’t know what’s in here.” He picks up the bottle and squirts a glossy white blob onto his palm. Then he lifts it cautiously to his nose, like it might be radioactive. “Whoa. What is that? Here—smell this.”
Trevi emerges from the shower stall. “I have a great nose. I bet I can guess it in two sniffs.”
“Wait.” Castro steps out, too. “I’m married to a girl who loves her products. I can guess it in one sniff.”
“Can not,” I argue. That’s why I love these guys. We can turn anything into a competition.
We all crowd around Drake, leaning in to get the first sniff.
“I’m getting…berries,” Castro whispers.
“And flowers,” Trevi says. “Gardenia?”
“Oh God. Flowers? It’s worse than I thought,” Drake complains. “Who’s doing this to us?”