SWEATS

James Moston

‘We always chat but I dunno ya name, mate,’ he said, leaning forward. His elbows slid over his sweat-coated knees, revealing his name in a tribal font on his forearm. ‘Am Max.’

       ‘Dan.’ I smiled, wiping the fluid creeping from my hairline, which I flicked and heard singe on the wooden bench. ‘Girlfriend’s let ya out tonight?’

       He laughed, booming and macho. ‘That little poof Connor been tellin’ tales?’ He pulled his fluorescent green shorts up towards his crotch. Not very hairy.

       ‘He not upstairs with ya tonight?’ I asked, the hot air forcing a tickly cough. His lingering Sauvage coursed through me like an aphrodisiac. It felt like his eyes slithered down the pale, new-found definition of my torso onto my soaked maroon Speedos. Is he comparing? I tried to calm the hummingbird fluttering in my chest.

       ‘Nah. Scrawny git’s bummin’ one of our mates at Center Parcs,’ he chuckled, his pecs dancing.

       ‘Bless ’im,’ I said with a condescending smile. ‘At least ’e isn’t on a leash.’

       ‘She’s a good ’un, my Kira,’ he continued, pouring water over his reddening body. He wasn’t defined, but not fat either. ‘Been with ’er five years now.’ He scratched the trickling water on his chest sideways like an ape.

       ‘Doin’ well then,’ I said, covering my groin with interlocked hands. ‘Don’t ruin it by ’avin kids.’

       ‘Made that mistake yerself?’

       ‘I’ll be reet as long as poofs can’t get pregnant,’ I joked.

       He sniggered, breaking eye contact.

       Oh, I thought as his dirty grin evaporated.

       His fists closed whilst his eyes darted outside. ‘Better get back to ’er actually,’ he mumbled, wobbling upright.

       Thank fuck. I guess he was comparing.

       Nodding Max goodnight as the glass door closed behind him, I sat back, trying not to jolt as the panels burnt my skin. The hummingbird settled with dissatisfied relief.

       I waited a while to make sure he’d gone. Safer that way. Another tickly cough echoed between the open shower cubicles as I staggered through them. Behind the sound of running water, the only closed door groaned open, with a wet, tattooed arm reaching out to guide me inside.