Coming Up for Air
“With a pizza party?” I tease, mimicking his grandparents.
Levi smiles easily. “If that’s what you want.”
“What I really need is a nap and a smoothie.”
“You got it, boss.” Levi picks up my bag to carry it for me.
It’s not until I’m back at the hotel, changing into jeans and a long-sleeved tee, that I realize I haven’t thought about Roxy once.
I smile at myself in the mirror and dry my hair.
Making Waves
I didn’t qualify in Huntsville.
The next day at the meet, I swam 200 free and did even better than I had in back the day before. I missed the qualifying time by two-tenths of a second, which is a lot more manageable than seven-tenths. I came in third place overall. The good news? I beat Roxy! She came in eighth in 200 free. I didn’t do so well in 50 or 100—but that’s okay. Coach says the shorter races aren’t my forte.
Deep down, though, I worry I will never qualify.
With two more chances, the Atlanta Classic in April and the Spring Spotlight in May, swimming is all I can think about. To be honest, I’m barely thinking about graduation, which is less than two months away. It’s just swim, swim, swim, swim, swim.
Okay, okay, I admit I have been thinking a little bit about prom.
When I think back to the ridiculous bucket list Hunter made for me, part of me wishes I had more hours in the day to obsess about a dance or get excited about graduation and college. I’m lucky I have a few good friends and great parents. Without them, my life would basically be water and that’s it. Hell, I spent my entire spring break in Huntsville at Junior Nationals with no beach in sight.
At least I have off the night of the pajama party at the end of the month. I decide I could pretend that’s prom. I’m sure in some alternate universe people wear pajamas to elegant events.
One Friday night when I’m driving myself to Jiffy Burger, I realize it’s April 1. And yes, that means it’s only two weeks until the Atlantic Classic, but it’s an important date for another reason.
At the diner, I slide into the booth next to Hunter. Georgia sandwiches him in on his other side.
“It’s only two months until you leave!” I say, hugging him. “Waahhh.”
He puts an arm around my shoulder and the other around Georgia. “I promise to call you.”
“Do they even let you have cell phones at boot camp?” Georgia asks.
“They do, but you can only make calls if you’re being supervised.”
Levi arrives in time to say, “Guess that means no phone sex.”
“Shut up, man.”
Levi sits down on the other side of the booth away from the three of us. “I feel so left out,” he jokes. “Why am I sitting alone?”
Hunter chimes in, “We’ve staged an intervention. You need to stop whacking off all the time.”
“Ugh!” Georgia and I say.
Our usual waitress comes to take our order. I get up and move to my spot by Levi. I elbow his arm and smile at him sideways. One side of his mouth quirks up as we dive into our usual conversation.
Georgia and David are seeing each other now, so our Jiffy Burger chats aren’t only about Hunter and Shelby’s sexcapades.
Tonight I even have news of my own.
“Noah Thompson asked me to go to the pajama party with him,” I announce. Levi had been in the process of taking a bite of his cheeseburger when I say this. He pauses, then sets his burger on his plate.
“Eeep!” Georgia says. “What happened?”
I tell my friends how it went down earlier that day. Levi, who’s playing with his fries, never lifts his head during my story. Which is a pretty boring story as far as stories go. Noah walked up to me in the hallway. He smiled. He said, “Do you want to go to the pajama party with me?”
I had to think about it for a moment because he’s not the first person I would’ve chosen. But maybe I needed to consider other guys.
“Yeah,” I told Noah. “I’ll go.”
He grinned. “Awesome, I’ll pick you up at eight.”
I attend the party every year, but I’ve never taken a date. Some girls wear lacy negligees or short shorts, but I always wear long plaid pants and a T-shirt. I need something cuter to wear for Noah.
He’s a nice, cute guy but I don’t have much interest in kissing him or anything. I don’t know if that’s because I don’t want to kiss him, or I miss kissing Levi.
God, what’s wrong with me? Why can’t my heart listen to my mind? Levi and I are over. We were never together to begin with. He doesn’t want a girlfriend. If he did, he would’ve been willing to talk about us.
Today after I agreed to go to the pajama party, Noah took my hand in the hallway, and it felt like I was finally getting some of the high school experience. The real stuff, not the crazy shit on Hunter’s bucket list.
Levi doesn’t say much during dinner. I wish I knew what he was thinking. Is he upset because he hates Noah or sad because he misses me?
• • •
On the Saturday before the Atlanta Classic, which starts on Tuesday, Levi has an appointment for a massage.
He wanted to try acupuncture to treat his stiff ankle, but Coach Josh said no way, he’s not trying something new this close to a meet.
Georgia went to Knoxville for a full-day practice camp with the University of Tennessee cheerleading squad.
On top of that, there’s no Saturday afternoon swim practice because the team is tapering, so I decide to go watch Hunter’s baseball game against Fayetteville.
At the Hundred Oaks ballpark behind the school, I choose a seat in the stands. It’s a gorgeous sunny day, though gusty winds are making knots of my hair.
It feels a little awkward sitting here by myself. It’s starting to get real that my friends and I are going to be apart. Instead of Levi picking me up every morning, I’ll be walking to the pool. No more Friday night trips to Jiffy Burger with Georgia and Hunter and Levi except for when we’re on break from college. But I’m excited to work with one of the best college swimming coaches in the country. It’s exciting and sad all at once.
Right before the game is about to start, Shelby Goodwin appears at the bottom of the stands, peering up at the rows as if trying to decide where to sit. She sees me and heads my way. I don’t know how she does it, but she always manages to look cute, no matter the weather. Her blond hair is flat-ironed and doesn’t appear the least bit affected by the wind, and she’s wearing ripped jeans, dirty boots, a plaid shirt, and sunglasses. Her family owns a horse farm, so I imagine she spent the morning working out the horses.
“Can I sit with you?” she asks, and I nod.
Hundred Oaks is taking the field as she settles down beside me. The players run out to their positions as Hunter makes his way to the pitcher’s mound at his own pace. The game can’t start without him. He pounds his fist into his glove, breaking it in. Hunter gazes over at the stands, catching sight of us, and waves with a big smile on his face.
“He’s glad you’re here,” I tell her.
She nods somberly and looks away from me, picking at her thumbnail. “I know what you guys must think of me.”
“I worry my friend is going to get hurt, but he can make his own decisions. And you can do whatever you want with a guy you like.”
“I do like him… I might even more than like him, you know? But I’m a sophomore. I have two years left of high school, and he’s leaving for Colorado… You don’t know how bad I wish we were the same age.”
“I get that.”
“It just doesn’t seem realistic that we’d be happy so far apart from each other. And I want the next two years of high school to be awesome. My brother and his girlfriend can barely stand being apart long enough to go to class. I can’t imagine being happy when the guy I love is so far away…” Her voice chokes up a
little.
To me, it seems like, for Shelby, having a good time in high school is more important than trying to have a long-distance relationship. And that’s okay. We only experience high school once. It’s up to her to decide how to spend it.
I always feel bad for Jason because he’s swimming his life away when he’d rather be doing something else. I can’t fault Shelby for taking care of herself—her wants and needs.
When I look back on this time of my life, I know I’ll be glad that swimming was the cornerstone, but also that I had great friends. I chose this life for myself. Shelby should be allowed to choose her life too, like Hunter’s made his own decision to go to the Air Force Academy. If he wants to continue spending time with Shelby on her terms, I can’t stop him.
“What’s happening with you and Levi?” Shelby asks as a player from Fayetteville steps up to the plate, tapping his bat against his cleats.
“We’re getting back to normal.”
Hunter pulls off his ball cap, wipes the sweat from his brow, and secures it back in place. He cleans the baseball off on his pants and stares the batter down.
“Are you okay with that?” Shelby asks.
She’s been honest with me, so I decide to do the same. “I’m not sure.”
“Do you not want to do the long-distance thing either? I mean, you’re going to California, and he’ll be in Texas. That’s huge.”
I shrug a little. “I’ve thought about how much I’ll miss him, but I haven’t really thought about making a long-distance relationship work, to be honest. It’s not like we’re together.”
Levi was right—things were intense between us. Yes, I’m going to the pajama party with Noah Thompson, but it’s not like I picture myself kissing him. When I was getting lessons from Levi, there was no other guy I was practicing for. It was only him.
But if you’re truly interested in somebody, you wouldn’t let coaches or parents or the fact you’re on the same team stop you from dating, right? I was ready to have that talk. He wasn’t. I need to accept that and move on already.
“I think if Levi and I were together,” I say slowly, “I’d deal with the fact we’re in different states.”
“Somebody’s in love,” she sings with a smile.
“We’re not in love. If he’d truly wanted me, he would’ve talked to me—instead of pushing me away. He would’ve been mature about it.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Shelby says, cleaning her sunglasses on her shirt tail. “Guys do dumb stuff sometimes.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Did Hunter tell you how he pretended to deliver a pizza just to visit me? I was joking when I suggested it. I never imagined he’d actually do it!”
Shelby and I crack up.
Out on the field, the count is 3–2. Hunter winds up and hurls the ball right down the middle of home plate.
“Strike three!” the ump calls, and the stands erupt with cheers.
Hunter grins as he runs off the field and waves up at us again. I peek at Shelby out of the corner of my eye. Her smile is trembling.
Sacrifice sucks, but sometimes it’s necessary to get what you truly need.
• • •
The Atlanta Classic swim meet will take place over three days, and one of them is my birthday.
I’m turning eighteen.
Coach Josh checks us into our hotel and gives us the usual lecture about not doing anything stupid. No sneaking out after nine. No parties in our rooms. No ordering so much Chinese takeout you can barely move the next day. (He looked directly at Jason with that one.)
So when somebody starts banging on my door after midnight, I am incredibly pissed. Susannah didn’t go out for once and was fast asleep hours ago, so she’s mad too.
“Go away!” she hollers, burrowing under her covers.
I pad to the door in bare feet and look out the peephole to find Levi and Jason.
I open the door.
“Happy birthday!” they yell.
Jason passes me one of those big balloons you buy at the grocery store. It’s the pink Power Ranger.
“Thanks, Jason.”
He playfully punches me on the shoulder and goes to jump on Susannah’s bed, flopping all over her to be annoying, making her screech. I cringe. Her screams may wake up the whole hotel.
Levi sets the gift bag he’s carrying on the floor, embraces me in a long hug, and gently kisses my cheek in a friendly way. “Happy birthday.”
Being in his arms feels so nice I let go of the balloon, and it floats to the ceiling.
“This is going to make me sound like a dick,” he starts, “But hear me out. I got myself something for your birthday.”
He reaches inside his T-shirt and fishes out his chain with the Make Waves pendant. He’s added a second one—a small silver disc. Looking more closely I see that it says Maggie, alongside an etching of a bear. That’s the Cal mascot. I grin really big.
“Thanks,” I say quietly, touching the pendant with a fingertip. “That means a lot to me.”
“I got you this too.” He gives me the gift bag, which I open to find the soft gray sweatshirt with his name on it in cursive. Lucassen. I bring it to my nose, loving its smell of cedar and his aftershave.
I cuddle his favorite shirt in my arms. “You’re sure?”
“I want you to have it when you’re at college.”
Jason chooses that moment to start a pillow fight with Susannah. She picks up her own to clock him on the head. “Get out of here, asshole!”
“Sorry,” Levi says to me. “I didn’t want to bring him, but he really wanted to give you that balloon.”
A loud knock pounds on the door. I open it to find Coach Josh standing there looking equal parts pissed and tired. He even has his visor on.
“Coach, do you wear your visor to bed?” Jason asks.
He sets his hands on his hips. “What are you all doing?”
“It’s my fault,” Levi replies. “I wanted to bring Maggie her birthday gift.”
“Did you forget I was staying right next door?” Coach asks.
Jason takes the opportunity to bop Susannah on the head again with a pillow.
“Jason. Keller,” Coach says. “Get your butt back to your room.”
Jason tosses the pillow back on the bed. “Cooaaach,” he whines like a fourth grader. Coach points at the door. Jason mopes out without another word.
Susannah smiles smugly and crawls back under the blankets and shuts her eyes.
“C’mon, Lucassen,” Coach says.
“Happy birthday,” Levi tells me, and pats my arm.
When he’s gone, I slip his sweatshirt on over my tank top. It’s so cozy soft and warm and smells like him. Almost as if I’m in his arms.
Going to sleep after that is easy.
The next day, Levi is on fire.
If he hadn’t already committed to Texas, every college scout in the country would be all over him at the Atlanta Classic.
It all starts with 100 breaststroke. He wins his prelim a full length ahead of his competitors! Then, in the final, Levi leads the lanes.
Coach Josh grabs my elbow as we watch the race, both of us staring at the clock. 1:03.69 is the time he needs to make his cuts. He is totally going to beat that time. When he sails in at 1:02.90, I am jumping up and down, screaming my butt off. Coach Josh is squatting down, covering his face. Ten years of working with Levi just paid off in the biggest way.
Now Levi gets to compete in two races at trials! Both 100 and 200 breast. Two chances to make the Olympic team!
When Levi turns and sees the scoreboard, he rips off his cap and goggles and climbs out of the pool. He’s shaking as he folds his arms around me in a long hug. I’m so proud of him.
Once we’re off the pool deck and out in the foyer, he digs in his bag for his phone.
br /> He wraps an arm around my waist, and I listen in as he calls his mom, Oma, and Opa to tell them. Their screams pour out of the phone.
I don’t get my cuts during the meet, but it’s okay because my best friend got his.
Sink or Swim
Levi drops me off at King’s Royal Engagements after weight lifting one afternoon.
I wave hi to the receptionist and head back toward Mom’s office, but I don’t make it there because I hear laughing and arguing coming from the dining room where my parents do tastings for prospective clients.
I poke my head in to see what’s happening and find Coach Woods sitting there with Dad and five other people.
“Hi,” I say. “What’s going on?”
“Jordan and Sam dropped by for a tasting,” Dad says, beaming. When I told him Coach Woods was interested in having him plan her wedding, he went nuts. Not only does he love having the business, her dad was a famous quarterback for the Tennessee Titans, Dad’s favorite football team. I’m not sure how much Mr. Woods cares about design elements and feng shui, but Dad sure is happy to tell him all about it.
Dad introduces Coach Woods’ parents, her fiancé, Sam, and his mom and dad. Their parents start asking me tons of questions about swimming—they seem really into sports. Meanwhile, Coach Woods and Sam are hovering over a platter of Chef’s chocolate truffles, popping them in their mouths like M&M’s and groaning about how good they are.
Mr. Woods throws his head back and stares at the ceiling. “Do either of you ever stop eating?”
“Dad, these truffles are so good!” Coach Woods exclaims.
“Jordan, we have to get a truffle display,” her fiancé says.
“Can we try some?” Mrs. Woods asks, but by that point, her daughter and future son-in-law have eaten them all.
Coach Woods turns to Dad, still chewing her final chocolate. “Can the truffles be shaped like footballs?”
“Of course.” Dad makes a note on his iPad, and the parents start shaking their heads, exasperated.
“How about we talk color themes?” Mrs. Woods asks. “And let’s look beyond the Titans colors.”