Chapter 4I’d been on the swim team all through high school. Never a star swimmer, but always a pretty good one. I knew I had the body, too: v-shaped torso; smooth chest and abs (since populated by a tiny patch of hair between my pecs and a furry little treasure trail); long, slender legs; and size ten-and-a-half feet. I was Italian on my dad’s side, too, giving my skin an olive hue. Over the years, a number of girls on the team—and a few boys, too—had indicated they’d be interested in getting a much closer look at this particular body, but I’d been too chicken to oblige any of them. I hated the part of me that was such a coward and a prude.
The consolation prize came from imagining where some of those invitations could have led. Those images provided ample fuel for all my pre-college wank
