Coming Up for Air

by Miranda Kenneally

  He chuckles softly, sadly. Then rolls his shoulders. “Things are intense with us.”

  “They are?”

  “You don’t feel it?”

  “It’s not like this with other girls?”

  He shakes his head. “Not even close.”

  Maybe I didn’t recognize the spark because I’ve never been with another guy—well, except for the juicy steak dinner guy at Cal. Sure, I think of Levi all the time, but I figured it’s because the kissing is great.

  “Maybe it’s because we’re friends,” I say.

  He gazes over at me. “I didn’t expect to feel this way.”

  Oh my God. Is he telling me he has feelings for me? Hearing that is like hitting the beach and rushing for the sparkling blue water.

  “But it’s already affecting both of us in the pool,” he goes on. “I’m training for the Olympic trials… I’ve been working toward that my entire life. And I dunno, maybe I’ll do amazing and get on the team. After that, there’s college, and who knows what might happen then.” His voice fades. It sounds like he’s breaking inside. “I’m not sure I have room for a girlfriend.”

  I know what he’s saying. Or, at least I think I do. I haven’t been sure of anything the past few days.

  He hops out of the truck and starts walking toward the school. I follow him. We reach the school entrance and he holds the glass door open for me.

  “So what are you saying?” I ask. “That we can’t do this anymore, but you have feelings? There has to be some way we can have swimming and us.”

  “I’m not sure if I want a relationship,” Levi says under his breath. “All I said was that the feelings are intense with us.”

  I really don’t understand what he’s saying. But on the other hand, I don’t understand how I feel either.

  “Let’s get through the state championship tomorrow,” I say, “And then we can talk.”

  “We should get to class.” He turns around, throwing his bag over his shoulder, and heads down the hall.

  I guess that conversation is over.

  • • •

  That night at Jiffy Burger, things are still off.

  It’s not the fries. Those are perfect as ever. At least, they taste the same—salty and piping hot. I’m just not enjoying them as much as I normally do.

  It started before we even arrived at the diner when Levi texted to say he was running late and couldn’t pick me up. Mom drove me here before she went to work, which was awkward.

  “Coach Josh called,” she said. “He said you seemed stressed at practice, and he’s worried. He thought maybe we should talk.”

  My coach is such a meddler. At least he didn’t seem to tell her about me and Levi making out.

  “Is something going on?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “He mentioned Levi seemed stressed too. Are you guys fighting?”

  My seat belt felt tighter than usual. “No, why would you think that?”

  She glanced over from the driver’s seat. “Because you two were acting weird when your dad and I came home last week.”

  I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I don’t know what Coach is talking about. I’m nervous about state tomorrow, I guess.”

  “You know you can talk to me if you need to,” Mom said. We’re both quiet for a moment, and I’m grateful when she changes the subject. “Did I tell you about our new clients? This couple wants a Game of Thrones–themed wedding…because nothing says love like murder.”

  By the time I got to Jiffy Burger, Levi was already seated in our booth. I thought he couldn’t drive me because he was behind schedule. Was he really running late? He’s never lied to me before…

  I shove a bunch of fries in my mouth, totally stress eating.

  “Are you excited for tomorrow?” Hunter asks us.

  Levi and I nod.

  “Oh, Maggie,” Georgia starts. “Get this. Noah Thompson asked me if you have a prom date.”

  Levi’s chin jerks up.

  Hunter looks back and forth at the two of us.

  “Really?” I ask, continuing to fork salad into my mouth.

  “I told him you might be going with Levi.”

  Levi’s eyes won’t meet mine.

  I set my fork down and finish chewing. “I doubt I can go to prom. It’s the same day as the Spring Spotlight in Cincinnati.”

  May 14. It’s two months from now. That’s my final chance to qualify for the trials. Even if I get my cuts in Huntsville or Atlanta prior to that race, I will still need the practice in a long course meet. I have to go no matter what. Early that day I’ll have prelims, and then hopefully I’ll be in the finals that afternoon. Depending on how I do, I’ll either be celebrating that night, completely exhausted, or crying my eyes out. Prom isn’t really on my mind.

  Okay. That’s a lie. It kind of is.

  I would love to go to my senior prom. I’d love to go shopping with my mom and Georgia for a dress and get my hair and makeup done. But Cincinnati is four hours away. As it stands now, to make the prom on time, I’d probably be racing from the pool with damp hair, smelling of chlorine.

  I smile to myself at the idea of dancing with Levi surrounded by twinkling lights as I stare up into his glimmering blue eyes. Even if we could only make it in time for one dance at the very end of the night, it’d be worth it.

  “Yeah, prom’s out for me,” Levi says, digging into his burger like the dance is no big deal. “Unless, like, I tweet at Missy Franklin, ask her to be my date, and she says yes. Then I’d go.”

  Georgia bites her lip.

  I suck in a deep breath, and fake laugh at his joke. I don’t care if the hottest guy on earth invited me to prom, I’d say no. I wouldn’t want to hurt Levi.

  When we’re leaving, I whisper to Levi, “I’m not interested in Noah. Just in case you were wondering.”

  He nods once. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Pick you up at eight.” He walks across the parking lot, jingling his keys.

  It’s not until he’s getting in his truck that I realize, for the first time ever, he didn’t offer me a ride home.

  • • •

  The state championship is taking place in Nashville at the Vanderbilt University pool.

  As promised, Levi picks me up in the morning, grumpy as ever. Our parents will meet us there a bit later because we need time to warm up and get in the zone. Even though he said me he would, it surprises me when Levi picks me up considering I had to bum a ride from Hunter last night. It pissed me off, to be honest.

  On top of that, I’m so nervous about going up against Roxy today, I can’t sit still in the truck. “I’m starting to understand why you hook up at meets.”

  “Huh?” Levi replies.

  “I’m antsy about seeing Roxy. I wish I could get my mind off it.”

  My friend grunts and doesn’t say anything. My face flushes when I realize it sounds like I was asking him to fool around. God, what is wrong with me? The past day has been stressful enough for us. He’s been acting weird ever since I said we should talk after state is over. I’m probably making things worse.

  But it’s true. When the meet is over, maybe tomorrow or the next day, I do want to talk to Levi about our feelings. He said things are intense with us, and I agree. A vision of him on top of me flits into my head.

  I shift in my seat again.

  I would feel a lot better about today if I had some assurances of how things will go with Levi.

  “We’re going to talk after the meet, right?” I ask.

  He drums his hands on the steering wheel, sneaking a look my way. “Okay, whatever.”

  At the pool, Coach Josh claps us both on the back when he sees us.

  “Feeling good?” he asks.

  My stomach feels like piranhas are swimming around inside me. “Yeah,” I lie
.

  Coach raises an eyebrow. He doesn’t believe me for a second.

  I stow my bag in a locker and head to the practice lanes, where I meet up with Coach again, who’s talking to Levi, Jason, and Susannah. Jason and Susannah go to private school and have other swim coaches here, but like me, they depend on Coach Josh.

  When I hop down into the first practice lane, that’s when I see her. Roxy. She’s in the next lane over. I take a deep breath. I can do this. I may not have as many Twitter followers as she does, but I’m faster than her in the pool. I know it.

  I wave at Roxy, and she ignores me. That’s fine. I’m taking care of myself right now. Like Coach said, I’m concentrating on me, my body, my race. This is my day. I will win 200 back.

  Prelims go okay. In 200 free, I score the best time of any swimmer in any of the heats, which is amazing. Normally I am very focused on time and how I can shave off five-tenths of a second so I can qualify for the trials but not today. The state championships aren’t about times. They’re about the win. And I want it bad.

  For the 200 back heat though, my time is a hundredth of a second slower than Roxy’s and one other swimmer. I can make that up in the race. I know I can. Without another glance at her, I hop out of the pool.

  I spend the morning cheering for kids from Hundred Oaks and New Wave during their races. Levi keeps his distance, which hurts, but I understand why. Our minds should be on the pool. I can’t help but sneak glances his way, and he keeps catching me. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

  Later in the afternoon when it’s time for the 200 back final, I go into the locker room, take a shower to warm up, and pull my sweats on over my suit. I picture my start, thinking hard about making sure my feet don’t drag across the water. I breathe deeply as I put my tennis shoes back on for the walk across the pool deck.

  When I go back into the hallway, I find Levi talking to Roxy. She’s very close to him. Smiling. Looking at his lips. She touches his hip. He doesn’t stop her. Another minute and she could have him under the bleachers.

  My goggles fall from my hand to the floor.

  Roxy looks away from Levi and gives me a taunting smile. “Oh, hey, Maggie. Levi and I were just catching up.”

  I can’t help but cover my mouth and let out a little cry. When he sees my reaction, Levi’s face starts turning red. I walk up to him, grab his arm, and pull him away from her.

  “Territorial, much?” she snaps.

  Once we’re in a private corner, I lay into him. “What the hell?”

  He looks past me over my shoulder. “What?”

  “How could you do that right in front of me?”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You let Roxy touch your hip.”

  His voice turns more gentle. “I wouldn’t fool around with her, Mags. You know that.”

  “Oh.” I breathe deeply through my nose, trying to calm down. “I don’t see why you’d be around another girl anyway.”

  “It’s not like you and I are dating.”

  That’s true. I basically encouraged him a couple weeks ago to have sex with another girl if he needed to. But I would never suggest he hook up with my rival! Especially not in a place I might see him…

  “Why would you do that right outside my locker room?” I snap, and pause, suddenly understanding. “Did you want me to see you with her?”

  “It wasn’t about Roxy,” he says, shutting his eyes. “It could’ve been any girl.”

  “Any girl?”

  “I told you, Mags. I don’t think I want a girlfriend right now. I can’t.”

  “So you were hoping to hook up with somebody else?”

  He doesn’t respond, and I know I’m right.

  The announcement for the next race—200 back—my race—says it’s about to start and swimmers should get ready to take their marks. I cover my eyes with my hands. A sob falls from my mouth.

  When he sees how upset I am, Levi takes my elbow. “I’m sorry. I got scared.”

  “Scared of what?” My voice breaks.

  “That we’re getting too close.”

  My lips tremble. Don’t cry, don’t cry. “So rather than talk to me you decide to piss me off, hurt my feelings”—break my heart—“right before my race? Right before the fucking state championship? Couldn’t you have kept it in your pants until after? Real mature, asshole.”

  Not waiting for him to respond, I turn and march toward the pool, ready to win this race. But the moment I hit the deck, Roxy looks over at me and waves with a smirk. The air whooshes out of me.

  I walk up to the water, splash some on my hands. Make sure my suit is in place.

  “Maggie.”

  Levi is behind me now. I ignore him.

  “Magpie.”

  “Don’t,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “I was wrong. I’m so sorry. So sorry.” His frantic expression mirrors the time Pepper ran away with her leash in the woods by Normandy Lake and we couldn’t find her anywhere. “You got this race.”

  “Go. Away.”

  His eyebrows pinch together. “Let’s talk after.”

  “That’s what I thought the plan was,” I say through clenched teeth. “But instead of being mature about it, you push me away. How could you, Levi? I thought we were friends.”

  “We are!”

  I dunk my hands in the cool water again. “Seriously, I need you to get away from me right now.” My voice is shaking. I’m not sure I even have the energy to swim. I’m about to cry.

  When I look up and see Levi’s eyes watering, I really do start crying.

  Then Coach Josh is there, hugging me against his side. “What’s going on?”

  I’m so embarrassed and hurt I can’t tell Coach the truth. A tear drips down my face. I swipe it away.

  “It’s my fault, Coach,” Levi says.

  “Get warmed up,” Coach tells him, and he actually listens and leaves this time. Once he’s out of my sight, I start breathing in through my nose, out through my mouth. Strong and steady, I tell myself.

  I’ve been working toward this day my entire life. No boy is gonna mess that up. But then a vision of another girl touching his hip makes me cry harder. I can’t help it. It doesn’t matter that it was Roxy. He’s right—it could’ve been anyone, and I’d still be freaking out.

  “Tell me what happened,” Coach says.

  “Levi acted like a jerk.” To hurt me. To push me away.

  “Can you put it out of your mind?”

  I wipe away a tear with my finger. “Trying.” My voice breaks again. How could Levi do this? Do I even know him at all?

  “The race is in three minutes,” Coach says. “What do you want to do?”

  “I’m gonna swim.”

  Coach squeezes my shoulder. “That a girl.”

  By this time, Mom is striding across the pool deck. She came down out of the stands to check on me? God. What a tidal wave of embarrassment. She pulls me into her arms and hugs me tight.

  “Are you okay, Tadpole?”

  “No.” My voice breaks.

  “Is this about Levi?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “I could tell things were changing between you,” Mom says quietly. Seriously, how do moms always know?

  “She’s going to race,” Coach says.

  “Good,” Mom replies with a smile, handing me some tissues. I wipe my eyes and blow my nose. I refuse to look at the other swimmers as I stretch my arms a final time.

  I hop into the pool. Roxy’s in the lane right next to me. As swimmers with the best prelim times, we are in the middle of the pool.

  “Lovers’ spat?” she asks.

  I don’t respond. I take a few deep breaths, grab hold of the bars above me, and prepare to push off backward. Before the buzzer sounds, I look for the Make Waves pendant
that always dangles in front of me. It’s not there.

  The buzzer beeps. I throw myself backward, pointing my toes so my feet don’t drag, and begin my fluid stroke. Kick, kick, kick. I can see Roxy to my right. I keep my pace steady. Don’t change it. Don’t change it at all. Push, push, push. I flip into my first turn, nailing it. I shove off the wall as hard as I can, flip over, and dolphin kick back to the surface. My muscles are loosening up. I’m feeling more comfortable. I take a risk and increase my speed ever so slightly. I make the second and third turns fine. I’m rocking this. The other turns go smoothly too. On my last length of the pool, I have the energy. I push the tiniest bit harder. The cheering crowd is going crazy. I slap my hands against the side of the pool. The race is over.

  I turn to check the scoreboard. I lost by a hundredth of a second.

  I cover my mouth.

  I lost. I lost to Roxy. Again. I shouldn’t have lost.

  If I can’t win state, what business do I have being on the US Olympic team? How would I even make it past the one hundred other swimmers who already have cuts for Omaha?

  Roxy turns to me and gives me a hug. I smile through pursed lips, and climb out of the pool.

  “You did great,” Coach Josh tells me.

  “I lost.”

  Coach places both hands on my shoulders. “You know Katie Ledecky doesn’t do as well in short course either. She loses lots of those races. You’re just like her. You’re going to kill it in long course next month, understand?”

  I nod robotically.

  “And you’ve still got 200 free later. I have a feeling you’ll do great.”

  I slip my feet into my sneakers and stalk off the deck, passing Roxy celebrating with her family.

  “Congratulations, Maggie!” her mom calls out. I give her a quick wave, then continue on, needing to be alone. I slide down next to a drink machine in a corner. I can’t believe I lost.

  To make my thoughts stop racing, I picture myself lying on a beach under the hot sun. But the image turns into one of me and Levi, playing cards on a beach towel at Normandy Lake. New, hot tears rush down my face. I can’t believe what happened—I called my best friend an asshole.

  While I’m hiding in the hallway, I hear Levi announced as the winner of 100 breaststroke.