Chapter 86

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At twenty-two, Rory has been swimming all his life. Literally. His mother likes to say he was born swimming—the hospital had had an experimental water birthing facility, and Rory’s mother will relate his entrance into the world in excruciating detail to anyone willing to listen. It’s embarrassing. He even overheard her talking about it to the college coach when they came up to tour the campus. “My little merman,” his mother will say, squeezing his cheek hard enough to pink the skin. As if his lanky, 6’ 3” frame doesn’t tower over her by a good head and shoulders in height.