This is stupid, Kevin thought as he paced by the open locker room door for the fifth time. There are better ways of going about this. Smarter ways. Someone might see you. Don't do this, you idiot, just stop and think and come up with a better idea for how to do this without completely screwing yourself over. Except, carrying these things around was like bearing the One friggin' Ring into Mordor, he was desperate to just be rid of them, and once again, a golden opportunity was presenting itself to him. School had let out, the entire swim team was in the pool for practice, and the locker room was wide open, just begging him to walk in, leave the tags, and walk out with no one the wiser. The more he put this off, the more nails in the coffin if he did get caught with them.
Speaking of putting things off, he wasn't sure how much longer he could risk loitering outside the locker room before someone saw him. With a deep breath (which did next to nothing to settle his nerves), he glanced around quickly before stepping through the door.
His heart was in his throat as he darted quietly around the wall and through the rows of lockers, realizing belatedly that he had no idea which one was Eddward's, or how he would leave the tags for him even if he could find it. Luckily, a lot of the swimmers seemed to be in the habit of leaving their jackets and clothes on the benches parallel to the lockers; with a little luck, perhaps Eddward was among of them. There was an office room in the back for the swim coach; the lights were on and the door was ajar, but one quick glance told him it was unoccupied. Nevertheless, he could feel his pulse in his ears as he continued his search.
The sound of footsteps outside sent him fleeing to the very back corner of the locker room, hand at his pocket to keep the chain and tags from jingling treacherously. In his fright, he couldn't be sure that he could make it to the office without being seen. When he heard the footsteps enter, it was all he could do not to throw up. He pressed himself against the wall, one hand over his mouth, eyes wide.
"...just brutal," someone was complaining as they – there were two of them, Kevin guessed – entered the locker room. "I mean, Jesus Christ, we won the last swim meet, what's got his panties in a knot?"
"Shut up, man, you know it's a bad idea to talk like that about him." A locker opened. Something rustled.
"Paranoid much? He's still at the pool, it's not like he's gonna hear me call him a hardass."
"Your funeral. Hey, wasn't Johnny supposed to be in here?"
"I dunno, probably. Guy's friends with the hardass, he probably needs a break sometimes, too."
The locker slammed shut again, followed by the click of a lock, and the two swimmers left the room again. Kevin's heart was still pounding as he uncovered his mouth and shakily continued looking.
There! Near the door to the coach's office, lying neatly folded on the bench, was a familiar black and gray jacket, and an equally familiar stocking cap – also folded, good lord – on top. Relief flooded through Kevin, making his knees weak, and he practically stumbled over to it. He drew the dogtags from his pocket and, cautiously, left them on top of the jacket. As soon as his hand drew away from the metal, he felt as if a considerable weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His tension eased.
"I am never doing anything like this ever again," he muttered to himself, before turning, listening for any more interruptions, and fleeing from the locker room as if timber wolves were snapping at his heels.
Behind him, in the supposedly vacant coach's office, Johnny stepped out from behind the door. Curious, he glanced around, wondering what the little twerp had been doing in here; watching him without risking discovery had been next to impossible, so he had been forced to settle with listening. His eyes fell upon his friend's obsessively neat pile of clothes, and the very conspicuous item that had not been there minutes before.
"Well, that was interesting, now, wasn't it, Plank?" he mused to his constant companion. "You think Edd would like to know about this? ...Yeah. Yeah, I think so, too."
Eddward stood at the edge of the pool, watching his fellow swimmers in the midst of their breast stroke laps. His arms were crossed, the fingers of his right hand drumming impatiently against his bicep. His mood had not lifted since last Friday, and he made little effort to hide it. Two of the swimmers had returned from the locker room, one having retrieved his cap, the other his goggles – eager little freshmen, always forgetting things – and yet Johnny had yet to return from fetching the attendance sheet from the coach's office.
Ah, there he was, hurrying in barefoot and only slowing once he entered the pool area – there was no running by the pool, after all. He paused to place Plank on the bleachers before walking rapidly toward Eddward with the clipboard under his arm and an eager look on his face.
"What took you so long?" Eddward demanded waspishly, snatching the proffered paperwork. "It was a simple errand, and it took you nearly five minutes more than it should have. And what are you grinning about?"
"You're gonna want to see what I found in the locker room," Johnny told him with an easy smirk.
Eddward raised an eyebrow. "And what might that be?"
"Go look, man. A certain someone left you a present."
"If it was so urgent, you could have at least brought it with you," Eddward snapped.
"Let's just say you wouldn't have wanted me touching 'em. Catch my drift?"
Eddward did, indeed, catch his drift, and his entire demeanor changed from irritation to sudden intensity. "What – are you certain? Who?"
Johnny's smirk widened. "Oh, you're gonna want to hear this."