But about halfway through practice, you're forced to stop. Your chest is getting extremely painful, and you can hardly keep moving. The cold water of the pool's also doing something terrible to your nipples. As fast as you possibly can, you make it to the edge of the pool and rest for a few moments.
"Adam, what do you think you're doing?" Coach Mack barked out, glaring at you with a dangerous look in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, coach," you say between deep breaths. "But I have this rash on my chest. I can hardly swim."
He stares at you for a few seconds, apparently trying to decide whether or not to trust you. Eventually, he grunts and motions his head for you to get out of the pool. You gladly comply.
"That does look bad," he says, staring at your chest.
For a moment you feel very violated standing there with him staring at you so plainly, but then you realize you have no reason to be. You shake your head. It's been a weird morning.
"Yeah," you agree. "I'll go down and see the nurse."
Still dripping wet, you run back down to the locker room and dry yourself before you dress and head up to the nurse's office.
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