In Deep (5 page)

“She is such a bitch,” Megan mutters.

I make my voice light, like I couldn't care less. “Nah, just bored. Besides, you know how Grier is with guys.”

“Yeah, I do,” Megan huffs. “And it's getting pretty boring.”

“Well, you probably won't have to suffer long.”

“Sure. It's not like we have another whole year with her or anything.”

“Oh, I don't know,” I say, narrowing my gaze. “Something might make her burn out long before that.”

•  •  •

Swim.

Push.

Breathe.

Swim.

Swim and swim, and that is all.

At one point during practice, while we're at the end of our lanes waiting for the next set of instructions from Van, Gavin looks across the ropes and waves at me. I give him a tight, dismissive smile. I don't know what to think about him, or her, so I duck my head under the water and push off, so I won't have to.

“SO, I GUESS I OWE
you one,” Kate says to me the next day in Enviro. She has this serious, almost morbid look on her face, and I can tell she's being sarcastic. I haven't been in much of a good mood myself today—Charlie wanted to be all grab-handy and gooey-gooey at lunch, which I guess is my fault because of Monday afternoon, plus another help-me-forget-about-Grier session yesterday after we both finished practice. I feel bad, a little, for being so crabby. I don't know.

But then I realize Kate's smiling.

It makes me smile too. “You didn't!”

She nods. “Yesterday. Your pep talk. I thought about it, and I realized you were right. So just a minute ago in Stats I went over to him before class and I said, ‘If you're still up for something Friday, turns out I'm free.' ”

“ ‘Turns out you're free'? So formal of you.”

“I don't know what we're doing or how I even really feel about it, but it's better not to think too much, right?” She looks so pretty. Confident. “So I owe you one.”

“Unless of course he's a suck kisser.”

She turns scarlet. “Well—”

“Good for you, Kate.” And I mean it.

“I guess you just give good advice is all.”

She smiles again and then turns around to get out her homework for today, leaving me to think about that. I do give good advice. Because I know what I'm talking about. So maybe it's time for me to follow some of it myself instead of doing all this sulking.

•  •  •

At the beginning of practice, before Grier can show me another effed-up photo, I suggest we all go out for burritos after. Grier can play whatever whorish games with Gavin she wants. I'm just not going to let her make me look like a loser while she does.

As soon as I tell her my idea, her eyes go over to Louis, hunched on the bleachers, waiting. “What about—?”

I shrug. “Forget him. I'll just tell him we have girl stuff. At this point he'd probably come watch practice even if I wasn't on the team anymore.”

She laughs, but I can see she still wants Gavin to herself.

“C'mon,” I say, nudging her. “We'll ask the other guys too if you want. I need to get to know your new boyfriend a little anyway, right?”

Her face lights up. “Oh man, you wouldn't believe—”

But I don't want to hear it. I stop her by moving over to Gavin, who's been lingering around, watching us both.

“Some workout, right?” I say brightly. “I thought we could all go for some burritos or something after practice. I'm starved. And I want to hear more about Auburn.”

I drape my arm around Grier's neck, showing him how buddy-buddy we are.

“Sound's cool,” he says, leering at Grier.

Grier tries to match my chipperness, now that Gavin's into it. “Sure!”

“Cool then.” Behind Grier's back I twirl my fingers at Gavin.

When practice is over, Louis offers to drive us, but I tell him Grier can just give me a lift home, even though our house is about the most opposite direction from hers. After he's gone, I explain to her that he's got some work he had to bring home and can't wait around for me or give me a ride. The expression of annoyance on her face makes me feel a small stab of rage toward her for obviously wanting to ditch me so fucking quickly, but I take a deep breath and blow it out slow.

As soon as we've slid into the booth—Gavin and Grier on one side, me across from them—I say to Gavin right off: “So, is it hard?”

Grier briefly glares at me. Gavin looks surprised.

I keep my face innocent. “At Auburn, I mean.”

The corners of his mouth lift. “Sure, it's, um, hard.” There's a crinkling around his eyes. “Probably not anything you can't handle though.”

I level my eyes at him, breathe through my nose.

“What about long? I mean, in a really exhausting kind of way? The kind where you just feel like you can't walk or do anything afterward? Or instead do they, you know, go easy on you sometimes? Take things slower?”

He swallows before he answers, but his eyes are sparking. “I guess it's just like your own experiences. Drive really hard then pull back, rest a bit. So that you're ready for the final push.”

Grier's looking back and forth at us, not sure whether we're joking or not.

“And what about tryouts?” I go on. “Was it hard to, you know, get in?”

This time he smiles full on. Cocky, no-of-course-it's-not-hard-to-get-in smile.

“For some, yeah. I think I had the scouts impressed pretty quick though.”

“Good times, then?”

“Pardon?”

“Your times.” Like I'm talking to a deaf grandpa. “Are they any good?”

His eyebrow arches. “Probably not as good as yours.”

From under the table, I feel his foot very purposefully connect with mine.

“Brynn is the fastest fly in the whole state,” Grier chimes in then, like I'm her kid. Or more now like suddenly I'm valuable to her again, since Gavin's clearly enjoying this. “She's the fastest Van's had in his club for years. She could go Olympic.”

“That has yet to be determined,” I grumble.

“Pretty much from the meets, though,” she says.

“And at State you go for National time too, right?” Gavin says.

I shrug. “Sure.”

The energy around the whole table has shifted. I don't like trying to have normal talk with this guy.

“That'll score you some,” he says, grinning, like he's read my mind.

I grin back, feeling crazy and powerful. “Yeah, I'd like to be able to see myself looking at five, maybe six at once.”

This time his eyebrows frown down together.

“Um, I don't think you want that many scouts on you, really. One, maybe two solid interests will be able to give you what you want.” His voice has slowed down, changed pitch. He doesn't want to play anymore, which I guess is fine, since our food arrives and I'm dying to eat. We all know who just won that round, anyway.

•  •  •

g thks ur cool
Grier texts me later, after she's dropped me off.

thx

he wts us 2 go 2 sm party this wkn
d

I wait.
Us
could mean just her and him, after all. She could just be rubbing this in my face.

r u dng anythg?
comes in a minute later.

I smile.

going 2 a party i guess.

FRIDAY MORNING, ALONG WITH REGULAR
swim stuff, I pack party clothes and an extra suit in my gear bag. Gavin didn't say where exactly this party was—some friend of a friend of his—but he did emphasize that it would likely be wild. So I made sure to seem intrigued, plus bring a little insurance so I don't miss practice in the morning.

At lunch, when Charlie asks about my plans, I shrug and say the same thing I usually do: “Grier's, practice, homework, cemetery.” This time it's harder to sound like I'm not lying, though. We tried to do a couple of date-ish things when we got back from the UGA meet and wanted to keep hanging out, but both times I got this impatient, itchy feeling that I couldn't shake. Charlie being a swimmer too means I don't have to
explain my life to him, except when he wants to know about my non-swimming life. I like it better when I'm at his place and can just get up and go after we make out, instead of having to sit there with all his get-to-know-each-other questions. Not that it isn't nice that he wants to. I don't know. We should try again, I guess. We will. But tonight I have other plans that definitely can't involve him.

“What about you?” I ask, trying to sound apologetic and encouraging.

“Eh. Guys getting together at Ethan's, I think. I might go for a while.”

I nod. Like most of us, Charlie's not up much for the late-night social crowd either. Plus, he actually works at his grades.

“But maybe we can study Sunday?” he asks, grinning.

I smile back. “Oh, I think we could probably work some of that in.”

•  •  •

It's Kate I really want to talk to about the weekend. Connor's taking her to some coffeehouse with live music for their date tonight. She told me all about it yesterday. I think it sounds kind of lame, but he's obviously making an effort, so points to him in the long run. And Kate was almost giggly cute about it. The transformation from Monday was remarkable.

Today, though, she's a wreck.

“Get your fingers out of your mouth.” I pull her spittle-slick thumb down to the desk. “You can't be doing that all night with him.”

“I can't help it. I don't even know I do it.”

“You can help it, and you do know. Look, whenever you find your teeth crunching down on fingernail—hell, when you find your hand going up to your mouth—just recognize it and force yourself to do something else. Like, jam it down between your thighs maybe—”

She grimaces.

“Okay, or just lightly scratch the inside of your other arm. Not enough to make marks—just a tickle.”

“You're serious.”

I almost grab her. “You can make yourself do anything if you put your mind to it. All that shit they say is really true. The trick, though, is
really
putting your mind to it.”

“So, what can I put my mind to so I can keep my stomach from being full of rocks, then? Or to keep my parents from asking embarrassing questions? I really think I should cancel. I don't think I feel well. Maybe it was my lunch—”

Her hand starts going back up to her mouth. I clear my throat pointedly, and she drops it back down, giving her other arm a halfhearted tickle. That jacked-up feeling I had getting her to say yes to this date comes over me again.

“You're just nervous. It's okay. Nervousness is mostly your
body's way of getting ready for something new. It's not a bad thing. But you don't have to be ruled by it.”

I have to stop because the bell's rung, and Chu's picking up the questions on last night's reading. I give her what I managed to conquer (three out of five isn't bad), and take out another piece of paper.

You just have to recognize what's going on and decide to be the master,
I write to Kate.
You're more than just your feelings. You can recognize what's going on and change your own reaction to them. You can even change the reactions of other people. It's completely empowering.

I believe this—I know this—so firmly, it's like I'm carving the words into the paper. I pass the note over to her. It takes her a minute to respond.

Yeah, but when the horses are nervous about something, they're usually right,
she responds.

I snort. I guess I shouldn't be surprised she'd say something like that. I write back.

Horses are different. Are you a horse? No, you are not. Neither are you a pig, donkey, sheep, dog, kitten, or goldfish. Horses get nervous because they don't understand that if they focus, they can actually kick the shit out of any person or coyote or whatever is coming around. They don't remember how fast they are, how high they can jump. Dogs forget that they can pretty much kill anything they want to, even their own masters. Sheep—well, there's
no argument there. Sheep are fucking stupid. But you're not a sheep. You're not trapped, and you're not a follower. You're doing this because you want to, because it's different and exciting. If it sucks, you don't have to do it again. That's the thing. Unlike sheep, you can actually learn from your experiences. But you're not going to if you don't have some of them.

She doesn't write me back for the rest of class, which is irritating, but also it means she knows I'm right. I'm so pleased, I even register most of the lecture and raise my hand when Chu asks for questions.

On the way to last period though, Kate's on me right away.

“Okay, I'm not going to get into a debate with you on the differences between humans and animals, because you're just—” She holds a flat palm out and makes a crazy circle. “Okay?”