Mr. Jacob noticed

The coach tilted his head slightly. “And I couldn’t help but notice you were wearing a… violet swimsuit. Not exactly the usual choice.”

Glenn’s heart skipped. Please don’t go further. Please.

“It looked,” Mr. Jacob continued, “like a women’s bikini bottom.”

Glenn’s stomach turned. There it was. He’d been seen. Not just noticed, identified.

His face burned, but he made a choice.

He looked down and admitted, quietly, “Yeah… it is. I didn’t have a say. My mom packed it. Thought it was funny, I guess. She’s… like that.”

Mr. Jacob nodded slowly, thoughtful. No judgment in his expression—just curiosity. “And yet… you were faster than half the class.”

Glenn shrugged a little. “It’s tight. Less drag, maybe.”

Mr. Jacob tapped a finger on the armrest, clearly thinking. “Makes sense. Less material. Less water resistance. Hm…”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

Then, almost to himself, he murmured, “What if the whole team wore suits like that?”

Glenn blinked. “Sir?”

Mr. Jacob didn’t elaborate—just smirked slightly, like the gears in his head were turning in a whole new direction.

A beat later, the detention clerk announced, “Fifteen-minute group—you're good to go.”

Mr. Jacob nodded at Glenn. “Alright. You’re dismissed. But Glenn…”

Glenn turned as he picked up his bag.

“You’ve got something most of the guys don’t. Don’t waste it.”

Glenn nodded. “Thanks, sir.”

He walked out, not sure how to feel—still embarrassed, still tired—but beneath all that, something else stirred: