"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten."
The steady clinking as the heavy weights came together always had a calming affect on Walter. Working out was a sort of meditation to him as he worked out his body and focused his mind.
"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten."
He sighed and leaned back into the chair of the machine to take a short break. He subconsciously found himself running his tongue along his top incisor again. His tusk. He groaned and touched at the two teeth that jutted down from his mouth. The short whiskers on his mouth flexed as he frowned.
He'd been frowning a lot since he realized what he was becoming: A Fucking Walrus. Walter the Fucking Walrus.
Seriously? After Orientation he'd hoped to be a bull or a lion. Something massive that would translate well into Football. His only real passion. He'd been on his varsity team and while he wasn't necessarily the star of the school, it suited him and made him plenty of friends. He didn't necessarily want to go pro, either. But it kept him satisfied and reminded him of his dad.
Football was really the only thing he and his dad had in common.
Can a Walrus even play Football? How the fuck will that even work? Won't I just fall over and embarrass myself?
"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven....Fuck!"
Walter stormed out of the gym floor and headed to the locker room. He rested his forehead against his locker and tried not to cry.
Walruses are fat, ugly, and slow.
He composed himself quickly. Emotions were for the weak, as his dad had reminded him constantly. Brutally. "And no son of mine is fucking weak." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply before looking around quickly to see if anyone had seen his near-meltdown. He was in the clear. He shook his head and opened his locker to grab his towel.
The flyer fell out of his bag and taunted him from the floor. Football Tryouts: Saturday 10:00 AM. He growled and snatched it from the ground before crumpling it into a ball and stomping over to thrust it into the garbage. "What a fucking joke."
Walter was 21. The timing of his birthday and the fact that he was held back a year meant he was older than most of his compatriots. That didn't bother him, though. He liked being bigger than everyone else. It gave him a sense of control that he lacked in his home life. He could have used it to get what he wanted, but his mom influenced him for the better in that regard. She was too good for what she got dealt in life.
It was actually his mother who had convinced him to apply for CVU. She had to do it in secret, so his father wouldn't know. But they worked together to get in the application. They almost missed the deadline, but they did it. And the celebration they shared when he received his acceptance letter! He smiled weakly.
The worst part of the whole thing was leaving his mother behind with his dad. Guilt gnawed at the pit of his stomach.
He closed his locker and padded to the showers as he let the water wash over his head. It took a couple strands of his hair with it. Bald. Walruses are bald, too. Grabbing some shampoo, he very carefully lathered and steadied his breathing. If he didn't pull too hard the hair wouldn't all fall out at the same time. He closed his eyes as he rinsed so he couldn't see the hair clumping at the drain.
He tried to distract himself. Maybe Fannar would be willing to go exploring the town with him later. His roommate would love to display his thick new tail at a local bar, the showoff. Why couldn't Walter be turning into a Snow Leopard? That was so much better than a FUCKING WALRUS.
The short shower would have to be good enough. He'd probably end up at the gym later anyway. It calmed him. He toweled off, though opted to let his hair airdry as he walked back to his locker.
Another flyer caught his eye as he stopped. He walked over and plucked it from the board and squinted at the brightly colored advertisement.
Come Try Out for the Water Polo Team! Sunday: 8:00 PM. All Students Welcome.
Walter let out a long breath as he blinked at the inviting text. He brought it with him to his locker and set it in his bag before pulling out his swim trunks. Considering them, he nodded to himself and stepped into them before hanging his towel in his locker again.
"Change of plans." He muttered to himself and headed towards the on-site pool. The Student Athletics Center catered to a variety of students.
Voices and sounds echoed in the enclosed space, but the pool smelled different than he expected. A nearby sign bragged about Copper Ionization or something that he didn't understand. He shrugged and crept up to the edge of the pool before dipping a toe in. The water was warm and inviting as he started to enter. He stopped, though, when he heard a sharp whistle.
"Hey you! Make sure to grab a swimming cap. Nothing personal, but we require it for all students pre-transition." The beaver lifeguard with an orange mohawk pointed towards a sort of vending machine near the wall.
"Sorry! Thanks." He walked over and, finding them to be free, pulled one carefully over his hair. He walked back to the pool and gestured to get the Beaver's attention to show that he was complying with the rules. The beaver shrugged and went back to his preening and Walter re-entered the pool.
The water felt calming. Much like the clinking of the weight machines. He floated for a moment and made up his mind as he tread towards the lanes. And he began to swim laps.
"One."
"Two."
"Three."
"Four."
"Five."
"Six."
"Seven."
"Eight."
"Nine."
"Ten."
"Eleven."