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“Perfect,” Franky said, twirling the pen in her hand. “This will take me a few minutes. You best get cleaned up. I have a few more errands to run for Matty before noon, but let me know if you need anything. Lunch and dinner are already in the fridge, with heating instructions written on top.”
Franky was still writing things down when I ran upstairs. I was showered, dressed, and at the desk in my bedroom in no time. I picked up the envelope from Miss Paulina and removed the letter inside. When Franky said the message had been transcribed, she wasn’t fibbing.
The message had been typed out on official paper with the Vaulteneau seal at the top.
It read: “Dear Mr. Galbraith, the following message was received from your high school counselor Mr. Jones from the Clark County School District concerning your virtual login and assignments loaded into Schoology for the upcoming week.”
I sucked in a breath and sank in the swivel chair when I saw Drew’s name in the first line.
Of course he’d send instructions through official channels, but still it stung that he hadn’t bothered to email me directly. Why go through the estate? Was this Drew’s way of putting additional distance between us?
Power through it, Ciaran. You can do this.
Gritting my teeth, I folded the letter and placed it in the top drawer of the desk. Next, I retrieved my school laptop from my bookbag, logged into my school’s network, and reviewed each class’s lesson plan, quiz instructions, required reading, and the details for all assignments due by Friday.
There were a lot of things to do and I’d have to keep myself honest and manage my time well.
At least I knew what the week ahead looked like. Hopefully Franky wrote down nearby bookstores on her list. I had a few books I needed to buy before the end of the day.
24
MATTHIAS
I’d been wading in the pool long enough for my fingers and toes to begin to shrivel into raisins. For the second time that morning, I showered in the locker room, though this time I was alone the entire time, which was for the best considering I could not hide my raging hard-on.
With the hot water beating down my back, I imagined Ciaran’s mouth, remembered the way his hands touched me, the way he kissed me last night, the fit of his body against mine. Even the way he cupped my shoulders as he inspected my injury was enough to send me over the edge.
Confused as my mind was about the situation, my body did not seem to care that he called me Drew. My hand automatically reached down to my aching cock to relieve my pent-up frustration. I’d barely tugged on my shaft before I was coming hard and fast.
“Fuck,” I breathed out. The relief was instant and I sagged against the wall, letting the shower stream wash away the evidence.
Once dressed, I headed out of the basement and into the guesthouse, where I found my normal protein recovery smoothie in the fridge. Franky had crafted the perfect ratio between plant-based protein powder, bananas, spinach, avocados, and a mixture of other vitamins to create a shake that instantly helped me recover from hours of swim practice.
I looked around the first floor. Franky was nowhere to be seen, most likely on her usual Sunday morning errands before she split for the day. Ciaran, presumably, was upstairs in his bedroom or he’d escaped to the beach. I counted the surfboards. All were accounted for, excluding the one he’d lost yesterday. The day was shaping up to be warm and sunny, but at least Ciaran wasn’t out in the ocean trying to drown.
Leaning against the counter and sipping my smoothie, I switched on my phone and it loaded all texts that had come in while I was underground in the basement.
Joan’s text said that it would take a few more days to find a home for the statue. Filipe, who was apparently at the grocery store, asked what he needed to bring for the BBQ Bash (his words, not mine) on Friday night.
I wrote back, Anything but red fire oblivion, to which Filipe sent back a thumbs-up emoji.
Dad’s text was merely a picture of him and Theresa in Honolulu, visiting with Dante at our offices on the main island. I didn’t realize Dante was planning to visit them there, but the gesture made a lot of sense given the occasion.
The three of them were dressed in Hawaiian casual and huddled together on the balcony. The picture-perfect Hawaiian skyline with its combinations of mountaintops, coastal businesses, and turquoise waters made for a postcard-style background.
In return, Dante’s text was longer in that it contained actual words. Hey bro. Theresa is awesome. Dad is like a puppy following her around but she isn’t commanding or demanding or anything like that. She’s sweet and kind. This may sound weird, but within five minutes of meeting her, I knew Dad didn’t deserve her, and I think he is trying hard to be worthy of her. I’ve never seen him brought to his knees like this. Anyway, looking forward to meeting Ciaran sometime this summer, and seeing your times in the water. You shaved 1.5 seconds, or so I’ve heard. Great job!
Dante was an excellent swimmer in his own right. He’d been captain of the Trojan Swim Team when he attended USC but he’d never had aspirations to swim professionally.
Dante’s goal in life was to be part of Dad’s business and help modernize it, to include making everything environmentally friendly and sustainable. It wasn’t easy, but Dante was making strides.
While it was true I had shaved time on my lap time, that was before the overuse injury, so I’d lost all ground gained. I think that was why I was pushing myself to the breaking point. I’d achieved the gains but lost it almost as quickly. I wasn’t easy on myself when it felt like I was failing miserably.
I’d been doing a pretty good job of hiding the injury, especially from Dad, Dante, and to a certain extent, Coach Anderson. Coach knew I wasn’t performing my best, but he’d chalked it up to lifestyle, assuming I was partying every night.
Granted, I’d been a bit out of control in high school and at the beginning of freshman year at USC, so there was some truth to Coach’s perceptions. However, I’d been working hard on turning a corner, not that it helped when I’d slipped up in February of this year and did a few lines of coke.
Coach witnessed it and thought the best way to deal with the situation was to have me date his daughter, who was an aspiring actress, unless I wanted him to report my misconduct to the swim committee. Naturally that would have disqualified me from competing in any competition, including the upcoming Nationals.
