Olympic Dreaming Ch. 02

This will make more sense if you've read Chapter 1. The initial three chapters introduce the characters, and no intimacy will happen until chapter four when they are over eighteen. The series will include first-time and group sex but also includes mentions of suicide and attempted rape; if that upsets you, I suggest you don't start.

Chapter 2

After the excitement of my first week at a new school, the next few weeks flew by with no dramas. Monday and Friday nights were homework, followed by judo training, and Tuesday was revision work. I believed in revising when you were taught something, so it stuck. Just like judo or taekwondo moves, repeating them constantly made them perfect or better. Doing the same with schoolwork should mean the same, shouldn't it? I certainly hoped so; then, come exams, it would be a piece of piss and, if not that exactly, at least not an absolute ballache. Wednesday was now jujitsu, which I was enjoying, and even Wayne seemed to be getting the hang of it, although, after the first few sessions, he could hardly walk. Taekwondo was on Tuesday evenings and Saturday afternoons. Friday evenings were schoolwork and revision, as were Saturday mornings. Sunday was 'my' time when I could hang out with friends, assuming schoolwork was all complete.

A typical Sunday consisted of me going around Dafydd's house and having a cup of tea there; we were typically joined by Isolde and sometimes any of Lisa, Lucy and Claire. Occasionally, we'd meet at Dafydd's and then walk to a coffee shop for a cake. I flirted with the girls, who all flirted back; it was all done innocently. We all knew exams were the priority this year; if things developed after that, they would.

Christmas was soon upon us. None of us had much money, but I got a CD each for the girls. I got a couple of Terry Pratchett books for Dafydd; like me, he was a big fan. My parents, sister Alice and I flew to Sweden to spend time with my grandparents. Christmas with snow is just so much more festive. Once we were back, it was straight into our mock exams, so most of the holidays were spent with my head in textbooks or doing old exam questions.

May started looming towards us, as did the first exams. Tensions at school gradually built, especially amongst those who suddenly realised in early April that they only had four weeks to revise! No shit, Sherlock! I was feeling confident; I just hoped it wasn't misplaced. I'd certainly put the hours and effort in, so it wouldn't be for want of trying. We then had a week's half-term break, halfway through the exams. We were all determined to do our best, so we only met for about ninety minutes in the coffee shop daily to get some fresh air and reset our minds. It became a daily ritual at 3 pm each afternoon, and we all looked forward to it. Exams over, I turned 16 at the end of June but was never much of a party animal. Dafydd and I went to Southampton to watch a film at the multiplex and then to an Italian restaurant for dinner. We were both mentally tired but confident we'd done well. We'd find out in mid-August whether those marking the papers agreed.

I flew to Sweden in July to spend three weeks with my grandparents near Karlstad. I invited Dafydd and Craig to join me, and they both accepted. We flew to Stockholm and then caught a train to Karlstad, where my grandfather met us. I showed them around the area for the next three weeks, and we went hiking and cycling. My grandfather had a small boat, and he'd taught me to sail, so we also went out on that a few times. I wasn't experienced enough to take them alone, but my grandfather always sought an excuse to go out, and Craig and Dafydd loved it.

We arrived home towards the end of July, and I had two weeks at home before heading to Glasgow for a week-long taekwondo camp run by the British Taekwondo Association. Whilst there, I was assessed and passed my second dan black belt. After that, I took the train to Oban on the west coast of Scotland before catching the ferry to Craignure on the Isle of Mull to visit my uncle Tom.

Uncle Tom lived on the Isle of Mull in Scotland with his wife Fiona and was a former paratrooper. He now had a small farm with some rare breed sheep, a hobby; he also did some IT consultancy when he needed the extra money. I often spent several weeks in the summer holidays with him and his wife, helping them out and learning so much about living off the land: building shelters, trapping and skinning rabbits, making fires, and, of course, herding sheep. For the latter, "learning" mainly involved chasing them while they just returned to where they were initially, looking at me like I was some mad two-legged dog—all excellent stuff for a boy growing up who loved the outdoors.

My uncle met me in his old Land Rover and we set off for his farm in the north of the island. The first order of the day was phoning home to see if my results had come through the post; they had, and my Mum hadn't opened them yet. I waited patiently as she did, "Well?" I asked.

"A* in Maths, Physics, Computing, French and Spanish," she began.

"A in English, Chemistry, Business Studies and History, and a B in Biology! Well done, we're so proud of you!"

I sat down on a chair and clenched my fists.

"Thanks! All that hard work was worth it. I'm not surprised by Biology; it was a bugger of an exam." I then told her how the week had gone and that I'd achieved the 2^nd Dan black belt, which she promised to pass on to Dad.

"See you in a couple of weeks," I said as I hung up. Uncle Tom put the kettle on so we could have a cup of tea and catch up. He had some dry stone walling he needed repairing, so we'd be up on the hills the next few days doing that. We also planned a few hikes around the area.

"Some Peregrine Falcons are nesting in the quarry," he said. "The chicks are nearly ready to fledge, so we'll look tomorrow before they do. Then we'll crack on with that wall."

After unpacking, we went out, and he let me drive the Land Rover across the fields to see what was needed with the wall. The stones were all there; they only needed to be sorted into the correct size and carefully put back in place. The gap was about 10m wide, and he'd put some temporary fencing to stop the sheep from escaping. He'd shown me how to repair a wall before, so hopefully, I'd be useful after a few hours of re-training. After that, I drove us back to the farm. I only crunched a couple of gear changes, and he theatrically put his hands over his ears every time.

"I blame the clutch!" I smiled at him. "It's too grabby."

"I blame the nut between the steering wheel and the seat!" he responded.

Aunt Fiona had prepared some lamb chops (homegrown) and vegetables for dinner, and we all tucked in. Uncle Tom gave me a San Migual as a treat for doing so well in my exams and for getting my 2^nd Dan. They then gave me my belated birthday present. I spent most Summers visiting so I usually had to wait for a present, but I didn't want anything at home and material things, while nice, weren't the most important things to me. I thanked them and opened it; inside was a pocketknife with a fire-starting module, some CDs and T-shirts. We spent the evening chatting and then watching some TV series they had both got into before heading to bed.

The next day, uncle Tom and I set off after breakfast, walking across the farm and then up through a wood on the side of the mountain above their farm. It was pretty steep in places, but we made good time. After about a five-mile trek, we reached the disused quarry on the side of the mountain and quietly crept to the edge to look for the falcons.

"There, do you see them? Just below that ledge," uncle Tom whispered.

I scanned where he was pointing, and just then, one of the adults returned with what looked like a pigeon.

"Yes, I see them. Looks like three chicks? I don't think they will be there much longer; they have their flight feathers." We watched them for about 30 minutes and then set off around the edge.

"It's beautiful up here!" I declared. "You can see an island over there; which one is that again?"

"That will be Coll," he responded.

"We had a beauty spot similar to this in Shropshire." I said, "Unfortunately, it occasionally was used by people to commit suicide. There was one three years ago, and it shocked the town."

"Aye, something about wanting your last time on earth somewhere like that," uncle Tom mused. "I suppose you can understand wanting somewhere peaceful and beautiful, but it's such a waste of a person's life. We've had a couple here over the years. I don't think they consider the mess when they hit the bottom; it's not a pretty sight."

I glanced over the edge, seeing the rocks below, and shuddered.

We passed a partially derelict hut, continued for a few miles around the mountain, and then stopped to make a fire with my new tool. We had brought some sausages and cooked them over the fire before having a sausage sarnie and a can of lemonade. Ensuring the fire was completely out and covered with soil, we proceeded down the mountain and back to the farm.

The following five days were spent working on the wall. It was hot, so we both worked bare-chested and were quickly sweating with the hard graft.

"You're looking good; I bet all the girls are after you!" Uncle Tom commented during one drink break.

"Ha, thanks! I've got to stay like this if I have any chance of getting to the Youth Olympics next year," I responded. "Unfortunately, girls will have to wait a bit longer to get their hands on this!" I laughed, flexing my muscles in gest.

"You'll make it if you continue training as hard as Keith says you are," he said.

I had the next day off after the wall was completed to my uncle's satisfaction, so I decided to have a run up the route we'd walked the first day I got there. I was fit, but the climb up through the woods burned the muscles in my legs, and I was pleased I made it to the top without stopping. Blowing hard, I crept over to the edge to see if the falcons were still there. I scanned their nest site but couldn't see any trace of them, so after a while, I continued past the hut and back down to the farm.

On Monday and Tuesday, my uncle drove us in the Land Rover past some holiday cottages to a friend's farm to help him cut up some logs for winter. While his friend was in his early seventies and still fit, it was neighbourly to help him. When my aunt and uncle first came to the island, they received lots of advice from him on tending the sheep, so they often helped whenever they could.

The day before I was due to get the ferry back to the mainland, I had this strange feeling the whole day. My Aunt noticed it while we were having dinner and asked me if I was okay.

"I don't know, I just seem out of sorts," I said. "I don't think I'm coming down with anything. I just have an odd feeling something's not right. I'm sure I'll be back to normal tomorrow morning."

"There's a big thunderstorm forecast overnight," she said, "and it's also a full moon. Maybe you're part werewolf and can feel the change in the air!"

We all laughed at that, and after relaxing in front of the TV for a bit, I went to bed, shortly followed by both of them.

It took me a while to get to sleep, and when I did, I had a vivid nightmare. I don't usually dream, or if I do, I never remember them in the morning, but I woke up with my heart racing, covered in a light sweat and what can only be described as a sense of doom. Something was wrong; I just knew it but didn't know what. All I could remember clearly of my nightmare was something to do with that quarry. I tried to get back to sleep, but the fear something was wrong wouldn't leave me and if anything got worse.

"This is stupid," I said to myself. I slept in the nude, so I got up and slipped a T-shirt on before putting on some shorts and training shoes.

"I'm not going to wake uncle Tom up. He'll think I've lost it!" so I quietly went downstairs and set off, running towards the quarry. With the full moon, I could see the path clearly, so I started at a fast pace. If I got there quickly enough, I should be able to set my mind at rest and get back to the farm before they were up. Worse case, if they saw me return, I'd say I went out for a run as I would be stuck on a train for hours later that day. I crossed the fields, the sheep in the far corner eyeing me warily and headed into the woods. As before, climbing through the trees was tough, but I powered on. The moonlight was much dimmer under the trees, and I went too close to some brambles a few times, cutting my legs a bit.

"Bummer," I thought. "No way they won't notice those all over my legs; I'll have to tell them I went for a run now." Cresting the top of the climb, I came out of the trees and slowed to a walk, breathing hard. I stopped just before the quarry's edge, put my hands on my knees and looked around. It was a beautiful, peaceful summer night. Over the Isle of Coll, I could see the predicted storm clouds looming, and it looked like it was raining heavily over there.

Great, now I would get back to the farm soaking wet and with cut-up legs! I looked along the cliff edge towards the old hut and then froze. There looked to be a young woman or girl standing right by the edge; she hadn't seen me yet, so I slowly started walking towards her, dreading what I might be about to witness.

"Hi!" I said in as cheerful a voice as I could muster. "Please don't do what I think you're about to!"

She whirled around, looking shocked to see anyone up here at that time of night.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" she sobbed.

"Well, if you take 3 or 4 steps back, I'll explain; it's a bit of an odd story."

She hesitated and then moved back a few steps.

"Why don't we sit on that log over there, and I'll tell you what brought me up here, and if you want, you can do the same?" I said, indicating a fallen tree nearby. She paused and then nodded, and we both went over. As I approached her, I took a better look at her. She looked to be around my age, probably fifteen to seventeen, had short blonde hair and was probably five foot seven inches tall. She was dressed in a pretty top, walking trousers and sturdy boots, so I assumed she was perhaps on a walking holiday with her family. She was slightly plump but had a beautiful face, and there was something about her eyes, but I couldn't see what in the moonlight. I sat down, giving her plenty of space, and she lifted her knees and wrapped her arms around them, looking at the floor.

I explained the strange feelings or emotions I had had all afternoon, leading to the vivid dream or nightmare and the urgent need to come to the quarry in the middle of the night. I also repeated my conversation with my aunt and uncle about them wondering whether I was a werewolf and laughed that, thankfully, I hadn't turned with the full moon. She looked up and smiled at my little joke; I could see the tears running down her face as she looked my way.

Suddenly, she exclaimed, "Your legs! You're bleeding all over!" and she got up to look at them.

"They're just scratches," I responded, "You're more important; please talk to me! What brought you up here to do this? Can you tell me? I won't judge, and I'm a good listener. You don't know me. I have no preconceptions about you or your life, and we'll probably never meet again, so it's safe to tell me if you can?"

She sat down again and looked at me for a few minutes, her eyes darting all over my face, seeking the courage to tell her story. Over the next 45 minutes or so, she slowly poured her heart out. It was the usual teenage angst, I suppose; she was bullied and teased about her weight; she had 'developed' early, so there were lots of comments about her breasts. She was called a milking cow, and boys always tried to grab them. Constant torment, and it had got to a head over the summer. One of the boys had spread a rumour he had slept with her and taken her cherry, and a lot of her classmates had made comments about what a slut she was. Just then, there was a bright flash over the sea, quickly followed by a loud clap of thunder, and she jumped and gave a little scream of shock.

I stood up and grabbed her hand. "We'd better get to some shelter before that gets here. Quick, follow me; there's a hut just over here that should keep us dry." We ran over to the hut and looked in. There were two small rooms, and the roof over one still looked solid.

"I'll get some branches and kindling and make a small fire, as it will get cold and dark when that arrives," I said, pointing to the looming storm.

She followed me to the forest's edge, and we started collecting branches, dead bracken and kindling. After about three trips, the heavens opened, and we became soaked as we ran back into the hut. Her top caught on an old nail as she rushed in, causing a large rip.

She held her side in pain. "Bugger, that hurt."

She had a small scratch, but it didn't look deep and only bled briefly. However, her top appeared ruined with the large rip, which now had some blood on it. I built a fire near the entrance, used my new fire-starting tool to light it, and then fed the fire until it gave out plenty of light and heat. The lightning, by now, was directly overhead, and the temperature had dropped. I got a few branches and made something to hang my top on so it would dry out and sat down against the wall.

"We'd better make ourselves comfortable," I said. "It might be a while before the storm passes."

She sat down near me, and we continued to talk. I found out her name was Alicia and told her mine. I told her the story of my friend, Simon, from Shropshire and us both finding his older brother hanging in the woods. It affected Simon and I and devastated the family and the broader community. His parents almost broke up with the heartache and loss.

I also tried to get her to see that in a couple of years; she would probably be off to university, leave all her old 'friends' behind, and probably never see them again, especially if they were still treating her the same way. She would meet new people who would see the real her and eventually find a soul mate who deserved her love.

I talked about my martial arts and how it might be something she might enjoy. It would give her self-confidence and respect for herself, and if it were something she took to, it would be good motivation to get fit and improve her mental health. We continued talking until about 2 am, and Alicia was obviously uncomfortable in her still-wet top.

"My top is dry now; do you want to put that on instead?" I asked cautiously. "I promise not to peek!" I laughed softly, hoping she would understand I was trying to put her at ease.

She thought for a moment and then replied. "Okay, anything must be better than leaving this cold, wet top on." I looked away as she removed her top and carefully hung it on the branch beside mine.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to wear that top again anyway; I think it's ruined," she said.

"You can keep mine when we leave," I responded.

She smiled at me and sat with her knees and arms around them, feeling the texture of my shirt. We continued to chat, and she started coming out of her shell more. Looking at her now, in the firelight, I could see what it was about her eyes that I had noticed earlier. They were a dazzling bright blue and drew your attention.

"Wow!" I said. "Your eyes are transfixing! I don't think I've ever seen eyes that captivating before."

"Thank you!" Alicia responded. "My mum has similar eyes."

After a while, she laughed more as I tried to joke about things that had happened to me and my friends. I kept adding wood to the fire to keep a good fire burning and looked out towards the sea.

"I think this storm will last quite a while," I said.