I feel the same way

John paused for a moment, trying to decide how best to respond. He thought about his own physical transformation over the past year and how he was still trying to decide who he was now and how to "be" in the world.

"I know what you mean," he confessed, equally quietly. "Sometimes I think maybe I could be sexy but I have a hard time seeing myself that way."

"Really?" Kate turned to him in surprise, "I thought only girls felt like that. Guys always seem to be bragging about how many chicks they've bagged and how easy it was to get them."

John shrugged, "I guess some do. I think a lot of it's just bravado, though. I just wish I could be attractive without all the bravado. It probably just takes some confidence---and maybe a willingness to be a little daring sometimes."

Kate pondered that in silence for a few minutes. "Thanks," she said eventually, "That's actually really good advice." She turned to go, but paused momentarily as if trying to decide whether to say anything more. Finally, she quickly added, "You're probably not as unattractive as you think." And then she was gone, having hastily rejoined her friends.

For the rest of the morning, John rode alternating waves of elation and confusion. "Not unattractive" wasn't exactly an expression of unmitigated lust. On the other hand, "not AS unattractive AS HE THOUGHT" might be a little better. If he thought he was NOT unattractive, then that could mean she thought he was VERY attractive! But then again, maybe SHE thought that HE thought that he was very unattractive, in which case she was just saying that he was only mildly unattractive. Throw a "probably" into the mix, and he concluded that girls were pretty indecipherable sometimes.

Eight hours (plus several timezone changes) of airports and planes later, they finally touched down at the Honolulu airport, to the cheers and applause of all passengers. As they made ready to deplane, Coach Vanessa shouted instructions.

"Stay together! Our baggage claim area is E6! That's E as in Elephant and 6 as in... err... well anyway it's E6! After you collect your bags, we'll go outside TOGETHER and catch the bus to the hotel! Don't wander off! Make sure you have ALL your bags and make sure they're YOUR bags! ..."

Coach Vanessa was one of those teachers whom all the students loved, partly because she wasn't quite as responsible as she probably should have been, and students under her supervision therefore typically enjoyed an inordinate amount of freedom. She was young for a teacher---probably in her mid-20s---and many of the girls on the team thought of her more as a friend than as an authority figure. John sensed that she kind of liked that, and considered most of the girls her peers---especially now that they had all graduated and were therefore "adults" in her eyes. Still, she tried to avoid over-the-top familiarity with the students, which the school administration might frown upon or could get her into trouble with parents. On this occasion she had her best I'm-a-teacher face on.

Nevertheless, twelve ebullient girls, one chaotic airport, and zero additional staff to support her (other than himself, and he wasn't much help), melted her commanding ambiance in short order. The baggage claim turned out not to be E6 at all; instead, half their bags ended up at A2 and the other half over in H somewhere. Ilyana and Chloe accidentally exited security at the wrong checkpoint and spent almost an hour criss-crossing the airport trying to find everyone else. And for about half that time they couldn't find Allison at all. (Eventually they located her in one of the souvenir shops buying---true to her word---a flowery lei.) By the time they reached the hotel, they were being led by one uncharactersitically frazzled, take-no-nonsense coach.

"All right, then!" she ordered as they assembled in the hotel lobby. "Everyone wait here while I collect our room keys. DON'T GO ANYWHERE! John, you can go ahead and check yourself in."

John stepped forward uncertainly and followed Vanessa over to the reception desk. Why was she asking him to check in separately from the others? He waited behind her as she spoke to the receptionist.

"I have a block of 6 two-person rooms reserved---here are the reservation codes---and I have a separate room reservation for Vanessa Bazhunaishvili," she said.

It didn't take a math genius to realize that his room was missing from the list. And why was her room on a separate reservation? Slowly an awful realization dawned on him. The school had booked the rooms, but they'd reserved them for the TEAM. Technically he wasn't on the team, he was just support staff. And he wasn't even really that, since the meet organizers had their own professional spotters. He was really just there for moral support. Apparently he had been expected to arrange his own accommodations, just like any spectator.

He felt panic start to set in. It was like that time he walked into Mr. Franz's class to discover a major exam in progress that he'd forgotten to study for, only ten times worse than that. Discretely he stepped out of the receptionist's queue to try and figure out what to do.