"What the hell..." Tim was looking at the swimmer's driver's license. The rest of the wallet didn't have anything interesting: A few crumpled dollars, a debit card, and a punch card from a local coffee place. But Tim had to do a double take when he glanced at the license.
The photo on the card was a happy, smiling young man with scruffy brown hair and a bit of stubble on his face. His cheekbones were prominent as was his jawline. The boy in the photo reminded him of a surfer from California. The rest of the card display all the important information:
NAME: Ethan Michael Anderson
DOB: 10/16/01
HEIGHT: 5'10"
WEIGHT: 175
HAIR: Brown
EYES: Brown
Tim could not believe that this card belonged to rotund swimmer who barely fit into a massive Speedo. And it appeared that the card was issued less than two years ago. There's no way th-
Tim's train of thought interrupted; he had heard the door to the locker room swing open. He quickly replaced the card into the wallet, shut the locker door, and placed the lock as he found it. Tim then shuffled over a few rows and pretended to be unlocking his own locker.
Seconds later, the obese swimmer waddled over. "Knew I forgot something," he muttered as he closed the lock. Tim glanced over trying to find the face of that skinny surfer under fleshy jowls and a thick double chin. The swimmer then turned away and starting walking away.
"Umm...hey!" Tim yelled at the swimmer who turned around. "Are, uh, those yours?" He gestured to the gigantic red Speedo laying on the bench.
"Oh yeah, it's mine," the supersized swimmer said. "Just leave it there. I don't want to toss it in my locker when it's soaking wet. Besides, I doubt anyone's going to steal it."
"Yeah, I guess not," Tim chuckled. "I haven't seen you around here. Do you swim here often?" Again, Tim searched the swimmer's face and could just barely recognize the boy from the license photo.
"Yep, I'm usually here everyday in the morning right when this place opens up. I like starting my day with some laps. But I had to drop off my mom at the airport this morning, so I'm here way later than I'm used to. What about you?"
Tim had to think of a lie and quick. The only times he ever comes to the pool is when Carl drags him there. And more often than not, he spends the day lounging instead of actually swimming. "Uh, well, no. But I trying to come regularly. Good, uh, exercise, you know?"
"Oh, don't I know it," the swimmer said. "I'm Ethan, by the way." He stuck out his hand and Tim shook it. The flabby boy's doughy arm and chest wobbled. "Hey, I've been looking for a swimming buddy for a while. I hate being here by myself in the mornings. It's kinda weird being the only one swimming. If you're looking for someone to swim with and aren't afraid to wake up before the crack of dawn, I'd enjoy the company."
Tim was intrigued by the offer. While he felt drawn to Ethan and certainly wanted to know what his deal was, Tim wasn't too thrilled about getting up early in the morning to go swimming.
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