Yes, without a problem!

The campus was buzzing when you and Jamal stepped outside. The late-summer sun was high, washing the wide quad in light, the air alive with voices, music, the smell of food trucks parked just beyond the main walk. Banners stretched overhead, each booth lined with bright posters, eager club reps calling out to passing student's.

It was chaotic, and a little dizzying. You clutched the strap of your backpack like an anchor, following close behind Jamal’s steady stride.

“See?” he said over the noise, glancing back at you. “Told you it’d be wild. Every club under the sun shows up here. Half of ‘em you’ll never even hear about again.”

You smiled nervously, eyes darting from booth to booth, hiking club, chess society, something called “Medieval Combat Recreation” with two guys actually swinging padded swords at each other.

“Wow, these people seem crazy” you say amazed, looking around, Jamal just laughs.

“Where’s the swim club?” you asked.

“Over there, near the fountain.” Jamal nodded toward the center of the quad, where a blue-and-white banner with a stylized wave caught your eye. A handful of fit-looking students were gathered around the table, all in team shirts, their voices loud, their smiles easy.

Your stomach fluttered.

Jamal noticed. “Relax. They’re just students, man. Not Olympians.”

Maybe. But as you approached, you couldn’t help noticing the bodies, toned arms, broad shoulders, the kind of casual athletic confidence that made you want to shrink a little.

One of them, a tall black guy with a sharp grin, spotted Jamal and waved. You think you have seen him before, but can't quite place him.

“Yo! Jamal, what’s up, man?”

“Trent!” Jamal grinned back, bumping his fist. You remember, this is the guy that you heared when you met the BSA for the first time. He's the one Justin and Sarah are pretty good friends with. You're interested in understanding what kind of person he is, like why does Justin want to pay for everythint that Trent wants and all that?

But for now you have to concentrate and focus on the conversation.

“You still running this thing?”

Trent chuckled, running a hand over his cornrows. “Yeah, can’t let the new kids screw it up. You thinking about joining?” He looked at you then, his brown eyes sharp, assessing.

“Nah,” Jamal said easily, jerking a thumb at you. “But my boy here might. Remember him, fresh off the plane. Figured he could use something steady.”

Your mouth went dry as Trent’s gaze settled on you. “You swim much before?”

“A little,” you admitted. “Back home, nothing serious. I just… I liked it. And Jamal thought...” You glanced at Jamal, who gave you a small nod. “...thought it might be good for me to start again.”

Trent tilted his head, lips quirking. “We’ve got a beginner squad. Trains the same time as varsity, so you get the atmosphere, the energy, without drowning.” He smirked. “You don’t look like you’ll drown, though.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. “Thanks, I guess?”

He laughed, scribbling something onto a clipboard. “Here. Write your name down. Practices are Tuesday and Thursday evenings. Show up, see how it feels. No pressure.”

You took the pen, hand trembling just a little as you signed your name.

Beside you, Jamal clapped your shoulder. “Told you, man. Easy.”

As you handed the clipboard back, another swimmer stepped up, someone your age, leaner, less intense, with an easy smile and white skin. He introduced himself as Matt, one of the beginner reps, and started chatting with you about practice times, the pool, how the team was split between advanced and beginners. His tone was friendly, casual, making it clear you wouldn’t be out of your depth.

Meanwhile, Jamal and Trent drifted off to the side, their voices lowering into something you couldn’t quite catch. Every so often, you saw Trent’s grin sharpen, Jamal’s smirk in response. They were clearly talking about something more than swim club.

By the time you finished your conversation with Matt, your nerves had settled into something different, anticipation. You’d signed up. You had a place to be. And for the first time since landing, you felt like you might actually belong somewhere here.

When you rejoined Jamal, he slung an arm around your shoulder casually. “So? You in?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Beginner squad. Twice a week.”

“Good. Since the pool party’s this Friday, you can get a little feel for swimming. Perfect timing.”

The mention of the party made your stomach twist again, the image of those tiny swim briefs flashing in your mind. You shoved the thought down, forcing a smile. “Guess so.”

Jamal squeezed your shoulder. “Told you, man. You’re gonna kill it.”

And as the two of you moved on through the fair, weaving past booths and music and food smells, the clipboard with your name on it sat back at the swim table, anchoring you to something new.