Levi grumbles, snapping his paperback shut.
Coach introduces Ms. Kennedy, a woman dressed in a white polo shirt, blue track pants, and tennis shoes. “Susan was an assistant US women’s coach for the 2012 London Olympics. We’re lucky to have her here today.”
As we applaud politely, Levi points out a man sitting several rows away. “It’s the sports reporter I met with last Friday. The guy who’s doing the story on me.”
I crane my head to check him out. Wow. It’s amazing that a reporter from the Tennessean, the biggest newspaper in the state, is here covering the session with Ms. Kennedy. With the press here, it will be crucial to be on point today.
Ms. Kennedy begins by giving us a pep talk about how we’re the future of this sport. “The main reason I’m here is get a sense of your training and make sure your form is correct. Any one of you could be a future gold medalist. The next Michael Phelps.”
“Well, not me,” I whisper to Levi. “Because I have girl parts.”
Levi laughs at my joke, earning us glares from Coach Josh and Ms. Kennedy.
“I can’t wait to see the talent here today,” Ms. Kennedy says. “Everybody line up by the pool. Before you dive in, tell me your name.”
One by one, Ms. Kennedy watches every swimmer swim each stroke. Jason and Susannah head to the rear of the line. Levi and I end up in the middle, with Roxy right behind us. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she’s trying to get his attention. And really, who could blame her?
He’s hot.
Levi strips out of his blue New Wave sweats. I should be concentrating on psyching myself up to impress Ms. Kennedy, but Levi looks so good in his Speedo. His abs are perfectly defined. His torso is a flawless V. Seeing his golden body reminds me of last night, how he explored me but avoided my touch.
“Good luck,” he says to me, before diving into the pool.
Levi demonstrates his freestyle stroke for Ms. Kennedy, moving through the water at a rapid pace. She consults her stopwatch as she jots down notes on her clipboard, looking impressed.
When Levi emerges from the pool, she declares his form “Flawless.”
He removes his goggles, smiling. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“We’re looking forward to seeing you in Omaha this summer.”
Levi and I beam at each other, excited USA Swimming is keeping an eye on him.
“Next up,” Ms. Kennedy says.
I walk up to the blocks. “I’m Maggie King.”
“Nice to meet you, Maggie,” she replies with a smile. She makes a checkmark on her board. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I leap from the blocks into the pool, swimming free like a fish through the warm water. At the other end of the pool, I flip into my turn and change to breaststroke for my return. Next I demonstrate butterfly and end with backstroke. Ms. Kennedy walks alongside the pool, examining my every move.
I climb out of the water, hopeful she’ll say “Flawless” like she did with Levi. Instead, she motions for Coach Josh to join us away from the other swimmers. “Maggie, your freestyle looks great. You have a lot of potential there, but I want to see your starts in back again. Can you jump back into the pool and do a few more for me?”
I furrow my eyebrows. It’s embarrassing to do this in front of Roxy, but I follow Ms. Kennedy’s instructions. I demonstrate five starts, then climb back up to join her.
She’s chewing the end of her pen. “Three of those were perfect, but two worried me.”
Oh no. This is my favorite stroke. My best stroke. “What’s wrong with it?”
“When you shoot off backward from the wall, you’re a little too high above the water. This is causing your feet to drag. It’s slowing you down.”
“Oh. I never noticed that.”
Ms. Kennedy smiles kindly. “Unless you fix it, I’m afraid you’ll spend entire races making up for the ground you lose at the beginning. You’ve got great power—that’s what’s kept you competitive. But if you want to reach the next level, you need to improve your start.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll work on it.”
Coach and Ms. Kennedy trade ideas, suggesting videos that I should watch, along with some exercises to correct my form. But I’ve been pushing off the wall the same way for ages. It’s like asking me to change how I breathe.
Once she dismisses me, I look around for Levi. I find him gazing over at me. Lines of concern crease his forehead.
Without thinking, I beeline for him and lean against his side. He wraps an arm around my shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to work on my starts in back.” I relay what Ms. Kennedy told me. “My form sucks.”
“We’ll fix it.”
“That’s like telling me to start writing with my left hand.”
“Mags.” He takes me by both shoulders to look me straight in the eye. “We’ll fix it.”
Someone splashes into the water. I turn around to see Roxy’s aggressive freestyle racing across the pool. I bite my lip. She’s getting better and better.
It seems Susan Kennedy agrees with me. Roxy climbs out of the pool to get her critique.
“Flawless.”
• • •
The newspaper article about Levi comes out two days before regionals.
We’re tapering again today, so we have lots of leftover energy. Between sets when I’m leaning against the edge of the pool, Levi tickles me under the water.
“Stop it,” I say, but he tickles me again.
I push him away.
He dips his head to whisper in my ear. “Want to play sharks and minnows? See, now you’re a little minnow swimming along and I’m a big, hungry shark.” He touches my waist under the surface where no one can see. “And when I catch you I’m gonna eat y—”
“Maggie, Lucassen, get going!” Coach Josh says, pointing toward the other end of the pool. It’s a good thing break is over because my face is on fire at Levi’s words. He says the naughtiest things. And I kind of love it.
After finishing my morning laps, I climb out of the pool to find Coach Josh poring over the newspaper. I slip my feet into my sneakers and walk over to him, toweling off at the same time.
“Is that it?” I ask, smiling widely. I can’t wait to see what the Tennessean wrote about my friend. I reach out a hand to take it from Coach, but he snatches it away from me.
“In my office. Now.”
Okayyy. His reaction is kind of over the top. I tried to grab a newspaper from him, not his wallet.
I glance over at Levi, who shrugs at me as if to say, Yeah, Coach is a weirdo, but he’s a talented weirdo, so put up with him, we must.
I slip my hoodie and pants on over my swimsuit, and follow Coach into his office. Could he have heard what Levi whispered about me being a minnow and him being a shark?
“What’s wrong?”
He puts the newspaper down on his desk. “Did Levi mention the article was going to be about him and Roxy?”
“What?” I rush to pick up the newspaper. The headline reads Tennessee’s Untouchable Talent.
“Shit,” I mumble, my fingers shaking, rattling the paper as I scan it. The reporter even quoted Susan Kennedy, who said, “Levi Lucassen is on his way to becoming a star, and Roxy Coulter is one to watch.”
I find a sentence where Levi said I’m the one to beat, but the paper doesn’t mention me otherwise.
“How did this happen?” I ask. “Why wouldn’t they feature me? I won 200 back at the Summer Sizzler!” Of course, Roxy couldn’t compete because she had a strained shoulder…
Coach comes around the desk and places a hand on my back. Together we stare down at the front-page feature. The picture of Roxy shows her standing next to a blue swimming pool, but no one will even notice the shimmering water because she’s so gorgeous. She has black hair with purple and pink streaks in it,
she’s tan, and her diamond nose stud makes her appear exotic. The article mentions how she has ten thousand Twitter followers, and how people love watching the swimming videos and swimsuit pictures she posts. I only have about five hundred followers, and they’re mostly people from school and the pool.
Seeing her picture next to Levi’s cute face makes me feel sick.
Coach wads up the newspaper and tosses it in the trash can. “I wanted to talk to you about the article before you saw it on your own because you need to hear this from me—the media always gets it wrong. She’s not the best swimmer in this state. You are.”
I bite into my lower lip. If I’m the best swimmer, why was her time better than mine last weekend? Why do I have problems with my starts?
It’s as if Coach reads my mind because he says, “She swam faster than you because you didn’t stick to your training. You wasted your energy at the start of the race instead of building steadily. And we’re going to nail your starts. Susan Kennedy asked that I keep her updated on your progress.”
A smile begins to form on my face. “She did?”
“You bet she did. We’re not going to think about this article again, understand?”
“Yes.”
I leave his office to hit the showers. A tear slips out of my eye as I stand under the hot water. It rolls down my face. If I could only travel back in time to that day I met her at Normandy Lake. Instead of encouraging her to try out for New Wave, I would go back to playing poker with Levi on a towel on the sand.
I come out of the locker room to find Levi’s already dressed in his usual hoodie and running tights with athletic shorts on over them. His blond hair is wet and slicked back, and he’s wearing headphones. When he sees me, he slips them off and dangles them around his neck. I don’t even care who sees, I walk straight into his arms and hug him tight.
“I didn’t know,” he whispers.
“I know. They probably chose her for the article because she looks interesting.”
Levi edges slightly away from me and glances around the empty hallway, then kisses my cheek. “If we didn’t have to go to school right now, I’d show you just how much more interesting you are. You’re a minnow and I’m a shark.” He playfully growls in my ear.
That night at his place, it sure does get more interesting.
Once we’re positive Oma and Opa are zonked out, Levi has me in his bed. He was totally holding out on me when he said I didn’t need hookup lessons. Because it turns out I do. I really, really do.
“Do you own Superman underwear?”
He gives me a look. “No. I do not own Superman underwear.”
“Oh.”
“Do you wish I had Superman underwear? Do you have a fetish?” He starts tickling me.
“Ahhh! Stop. No, I do not have a fetish I just…I just…I don’t know!”
He pulls me on top so that I’m straddling him. “Is this your way of saying you want to see my underwear?”
How can he be so up front? Yeah, I’m talkative out of bed, but in bed my voice clams up. I decide to go for it. I reach for the waistband of his athletic shorts.
He pries my fingers away. “Nope. You gotta tell me what you want first.”
“But why?” I whine.
“If you aren’t comfortable enough to tell a guy what you want, you shouldn’t be in bed with him. Okay?”
“Okay…well, I want to do whatever I want without having to ask.”
“Maggie,” he chides, teasing me.
“Fine. I want to take off your shorts.”
He releases my hands from his grip. I tug on his waistband again and he helps me to edge them and his running tights all the way off. He’s wearing a pair of dark navy boxer briefs. Underwear are not that dissimilar from swim briefs if you think about it, but this still feels super different. It’s more intimate.
With a shaky hand, I reach down to touch him through his boxers, carefully exploring where he’s sensitive, and as his breathing begins to race, his mouth captures mine.
“Maggie,” he breathes between kisses. Hearing him pant my name excites me, and I reach past the waistband to wrap my fingers around him. His hand covers mine, to stop me from moving. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” I say quietly, and after a long look in my eyes, he releases my hand. With a hot flush gliding over my skin, I begin to move up and down again.
“You can grip me a little harder,” he pants with a heated stare.
“Won’t I hurt you?”
“You feel amazing.”
I’ve never touched one before, and it’s not what I expect at all. It’s hard and silky…and big. I sneak a peek at it. “Oh no.”
He jerks himself to a sitting position. “What’s wrong?”
“How in the world would that ever work? You know, with sex…and fitting?”
With a small smile, my best friend reaches out to touch my flushed cheek. “Don’t worry, when you’re ready to do it with somebody, it’ll work.”
“Are you bigger than everybody else?”
He smiles again. “I don’t think so. I’m normal, I guess.” But I notice he puffs his chest a little at the compliment. Boys.
We lie back down on the bed together. He runs his hands across my back, soothing me.
“Don’t be scared of it,” he says as I take him in my hand again. “When you’re getting ready to have sex, make sure you do plenty of foreplay.”
My body catches on fire at that word. “Like, handcuffs and whips and stuff?” I tease.
He drops his face into the crook of my neck, cracking up. “No! Not that kind of foreplay. I’ll show you what I mean.” He flips me onto my back and pushes my arms above my head, circling my wrists.
I free myself from his grip and say, “Nope. You have to tell me what you want. You can’t just show me.”
“You’re evil.”
I wink at him. “I learned from the best.”
“I’ll tell you what I want. I want you wearing Catwoman underwear,” he says, making me die laughing. “Are you wearing Catwoman underwear?”
He lifts my shirt over my head and tugs my leggings down. Tonight I made sure to wear panties to match my lacy blue bra, which draws a gasp out of him. His eyes scan me appreciatively. He lies on top of me, fitting his warm body to mine, and I wrap my trembling arms around his neck, my legs around his waist. I can’t believe we’re kissing in our underwear. Being physical with a guy is a part of my life now, and I love it. I feel like a woman.
As I continue to explore his body, he uses his hand to pleasure me again like the other night until a shockwave jolts through me. I gasp at its intensity.
“God, Maggie,” Levi growls.
Then Pepper jumps on the bed, noses her way between us, and starts licking my face.
“Pepper, baby girl, no! That’s my job,” Levi says, and I can’t help but giggle as he wrangles his dog off the bed in his boxer briefs. When he joins me again, his smile is bursting at the seams.
I am having such a good time, but it gets even better when he dips his lips to my ear. “This is what I mean by foreplay. I’m going to drive you crazy with my mouth.”
And he does.
And oh my god.
Oh my god.
The Most Embarrassing Moment in the Entire Universe. Ever.
The day of regionals, I wake up grinning about last night.
Levi didn’t leave much of my body unkissed.
I am very excited about the possibility of doing that with him again. It feels like an addiction. I lie in bed thinking about it, about him, and what it would be like to return the favor and kiss him everywhere, until Dad starts pounding on my door, yelling at me to get up and get dressed already.
The swim meet is taking place in Murfreesboro, which is about half an hour from Franklin. Levi’s mom is in New York for a
Jesse Scott concert, and my parents are catering a fiftieth wedding anniversary luncheon, so Oma and Opa drive us. Levi and I sit in the backseat of their Stone Age station wagon, listening to his grandparents bicker.
“I told you you should’ve taken I-40, not 24,” Oma complains.
“I like 24,” Opa argues. “The views are better.”
“There’s too much traffic!”
“Oma, c’mon,” Levi says. “We only had to wait behind two cars to get on the interstate.”
Opa swerves into the next lane, narrowly missing a semi.
Levi groans. “If I’d wanted to see my life pass before my eyes, I would’ve caught a ride with Maggie.”
“Hey! That’s not nice.”
“But it’s true.”
I playfully cross my arms. “Harumph.”
“I have no idea why you put up with my grandson,” Oma says to me.
Levi raises his eyebrows and gives me a naughty little smile. He leans over and whispers, “You put up with me because I would wear Superman underwear for you, right?”
“Shut up,” I hiss, glancing at Oma and Opa, but once I make sure his grandparents didn’t hear him, I smile like crazy. Levi grins at that, and reaches over to give my hand a quick squeeze. He leaves his hand on my thigh, caressing it.
We arrive at the Middle Tennessee State University natatorium and head straight to the locker rooms to shower and put on our red Hundred Oaks sweats and swim caps. I spend some time stretching, doing jumping jacks, and swimming a few laps in the practice pool to loosen up before prelims.
When the announcer calls my name, I walk out onto the pool deck, waving at the cheering crowd. I’m feeling really good today.
First up is 200-yard free. After taking off my sweats and tennis shoes, I shake out my arms, kick my legs, and take a few practice strokes on dry land. I make sure my goggles are in place. Right before the start, Coach calls out to me, “Maggie! Strong and steady.”
Nodding at him, I step up to the blocks. The buzzer sounds. I dive in—quick off the block—and dolphin kick three times, gliding through the water at a brisk pace. I pay no attention to what’s happening to my right or left. It’s just me and the water. My muscles feel good, like I could go even faster if I want to, but Coach’s voice sounds in my mind: Strong and steady.
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