‘Hey, cool idea,’ she said. ‘They should do a multi-tasking race – you know, hundred metre sprint with a baby on your hip and a jug of water balanced on your head.’ She started laughing. ‘Imagine the guys trying to do that!’
I giggled, even though that wasn’t exactly what I’d meant.
‘Or how about a race where everyone’s in high heels!’
I snorted and cracked up laughing while Rene giggled.
‘And the fact that the guys would always win doesn’t put you off the idea, Jade?’ Marco asked, panther tail swishing.
I sighed. ‘Well . . . I have no doubt you’d win any race against me Marco, so you’ve got nothing to worry about, okay?’
‘You’d better believe it,’ Marco said, and winked at Levi.
Then I’m sure I saw a look pass between them.
‘Hey!’ I said, poking my head around Levi’s open locker door, and laughing when he jerked back and gasped.
‘Hey yourself.’ Levi slammed the locker door then slung his backpack over one shoulder. ‘What’s up?’
It was the end of the day, only a few minutes until the buses started rolling in and we all filed on. I had to go to physio and I had a feeling that Levi was headed to weight training.
I fell in next to Levi with my bag on the opposite shoulder as we headed up the hall. ‘So, what was all that about at lunchtime?’ I asked. ‘Marco talking about the school swim team . . . saying that I should join.’
‘Well, maybe you should,’ Levi said. ‘You’re a good swimmer.’
‘Yeah, well, getting better – but what I mean is . . . what have you been saying to him?’ I didn’t like the idea of Levi talking to Marco about me – Marco might poison his mind with sexist ideas.
We paused at the end of the corridor to let a couple of junior girls walk through the double doors. I kept my eyes on Levi, watching for a hint of guilt or anything . . . but as usual I found him difficult to read.
As we walked through the doors, I felt Levi’s hand brush against mine. But he kept facing straight ahead as we walked towards the bus road.
‘Well, I told him how good you are in the pool, but not how good you are in the spa . . .’ Levi’s mouth was kinked up in a smile but he still didn’t look at me.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him. How did he make me so gushy and drop dead happy! And yet, I still wanted to pull him up – make sure he didn’t go blabbing every one of our conversations to Marco the Macho Moron. ‘But, you told him about my idea of girls racing boys, didn’t you?’ I said.
At last Levi looked at me, smiling. ‘Well, I think it’s a gutsy idea . . . And sort of cute.’
Cute! No one had ever called me cute before. ‘You sure have me tagged wrong, Levi,’ I said and laughed.
We were quiet for a bit, heading up the length of the art block then turning into the breezeway that led to the bus road. Even though it felt great to be alone with Levi, I couldn’t get that look out of my mind – the one that had passed between Levi and Marco.
What had they been saying about Rene and me? That girls are cute and silly? Sugar and spice and all things nice? It annoyed me that Levi didn’t seem at all threatened by me in the pool. I mean, I knew I had no hope against Marco. But Levi wasn’t a great swimmer – he was powerful, but he was all over the place. How come he laughed at my mixed-gender ideas like I was just a crazy girl? How come he was so sure that he was automatically faster, just because he was a guy?
Halfway through the breezeway I stopped walking so that Levi did too. He looked at me, waiting.
‘See, I don’t think it’s such a dumb idea. I mean, over a hundred metres I know you’re faster than me. But over fifteen hundred, I reckon I’d beat you. Gymnasts have a lot of stamina you know.’ I tried to keep my voice even and mature – no puppy dog yapping around here. ‘And over eight hundred metres, who knows?’
Levi’s eyes were shining ‘You want to race me over eight hundred metres?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘No. That’s not what I’m saying. I just . . . I don’t think you should be so sure that you’re faster. Not unless you’ve actually beaten me, you know?’
Levi leaned so close to me that we were breathing the same air. ‘Okay . . .’
By now my heart was going so crazy that I was sure Levi could hear it too. But somehow I didn’t want our first kiss to be like this, not when we were in the middle of something else.
I pulled back, determined to make my point.
A soft, disappointed look came over Levi, as if someone had just snatched his lunch away. I kept leaning back slightly, watching him closely and starting to understand how some girls play games with stuff like this.
‘So, you’re not automatically faster. Okay?’ I said softly.
Levi sighed ‘Okay, why don’t we have a race then? Settle this once and for all, eh?’ He was still talking as if he found me cute, but there was another tone in there too, like impatience.
We looked at each other. ‘You really want to race?’ I asked after a while. I could hear the rumble and hiss from the buses at the other end of the breezeway.
Levi grinned. ‘Why not? You’re sitting around without a hundred hours of gym training each week. And I’m not getting any game time . . . why don’t we do this? Freestyle over eight hundred?’ As he spoke, his words came out faster and faster as he came to like the idea more and more.
We walked the length of the breezeway, then stopped. Our buses were at opposite ends of the bus road.
Levi lifted my chin in his thumb and pointer finger. ‘But if I win, then you have to be my slave for a week,’ he said, and raised his eyebrows.
‘Okay, you’re on.’ I raised my eyebrows too, but not at the idea of being Levi’s slave. I didn’t plan on letting him win.
CHAPTER 9
‘Are you crazy?’ Rene asked on the phone that night.
I hadn’t even had a chance to call her about the race, our guy-grapevine was clearly faster than the Olympic fifty metre freestyle sprint.
‘Course not! Levi’s a big boy. He can look after himself,’ I said doodling peaked waves on my diary, then adding a gold victory medal.
The longer I thought about the idea of racing Levi, the more perfect the whole thing seemed. If Levi had been impressed when he’d heard I trained twenty-two hours a week at gym, imagine how he’d look at me if I beat him in the pool – a lingering gaze of awe and admiration. No more puppy dog smiles. We’d be two athletes standing shoulder to shoulder, eye to eye. (And hopefully equally head-over-heels about each other!)
‘Yeah . . . but I’m not worried about Levi,’ she said slowly. ‘I mean, what if he beats you?’ I heard her swallow and breathe. ‘If it’s going to make you feel worse . . . I mean, you know how you are about, well . . . not winning.’
It felt good to have Rene worrying about me – just like the good old days. Much better than having her wary and annoyed. But the great thing was, she didn’t need to worry. The race was making me alive and hungry. I was feeling stronger and more sure of what I could do than since my first trip to the physio.
‘Well, I’ll swallow my words if I have to Ren. But this is perfect for me! And imagine if I do win!’
She laughed. ‘Yeah. Maybe . . .’
‘So . . . what did Marco say about the race?’ I asked.
For a moment Rene was quiet. When she spoke her voice was soft. ‘Well, you know Marco. He thinks Levi will win.’ She paused. ‘It’s just . . . I told him not to make it into a big deal, but he’s going to tell his swimming mates about the whole thing.’
‘Well. We’d better set a date for it then,’ I said, picturing the look on Marco’s face when I climbed out of the pool first. So who’s soft now, Marco? It was the perfect way to prove to him once and for all that girls weren’t always weaker than guys.
Rene still didn’t sound convinced. ‘Just keep it all in perspective, Jade, okay?’
By the time I switched off the phone, I was bursting with determination. I so had to win the race.
I had so much to prove – to Marco and Levi, and even Rene – but most of all I had to prove to myself that I still had what it takes to win.
My training in the pool tapered off a bit after that.
As if! I started training harder than ever. But when I was around Levi and Marco’s swimming mates, I sure wasn’t swimming my fastest. For some mysterious reason my lap times around the guys were slower and I swam a bit more, I dunno . . . like a girl.
As far as I was concerned, if Levi and Marco were going to be sexist about my chance of winning, then there was nothing wrong with me using their dumb backward attitude to my advantage.
Think it’s going to be an easy victory, do you, boys? Well, you just go right on thinking that . . .
Mum bought me a book full of diagrams about stroke technique and getting a clean line in the water. Even though she kept saying that the race was a distraction from gymnastics, deep down I think she liked the idea of her daughter making a bunch of guys swallow their sexist words. It was the perfect job for Supergirl. She even came with me to the pool one weekend and watched as I taught myself the proper tumble turns. At a time when Levi and Marco were off playing football, of course.
Those turns were a piece of cake for a gymnast. The biggest challenge was working out how far from the wall I needed to start the tuck-under. After that, all I had to do was spin forwards and push off with my feet.
It took me about half an hour to start turning like a champion. I enjoyed the familiar spinning of my body. It was bitter-sweet, though, remembering the rush of flying when the water made it all so sluggish. It was a bit like playing around with a balloon after you’ve snatched cannonballs out of the air.
Word got round at school about the race and for some reason all the guys thought Levi was a total hero. He got smiles and nods from senior guys that he hardly even knew: We’re on the same side, mate . . .
I got a bit of my own hero worship – especially from the girls on the school swim team. Belinda Choi gave me a whole heap of tips, like tapering off before the big race, carbo loading and doing supplementary training out of the pool. She knew what was at stake in a race like this – guys might be bulkier and stronger, but girls could be dedicated and smart, fitter in mind and cleverer in body.
Besides, we had a lot more to prove.
Rene was still worried about how I would cope if I lost, but I kept telling her to chill. It was giving me a reason to breathe! The race became all that Levi and I spoke about. It gave us heaps of flirting fodder. Even though I’d kept my tactics a secret and learnt to tumble turn properly when Levi wasn’t around, I couldn’t keep quiet about everything. For a start, his crappy meat-pie diet.
‘So, how many meat pies do you plan to have for lunch before we race?’ I asked Levi during our last session together in the pool.
He grinned and wiped his mouth with the back of a hand. ‘Two, maybe? Might even have one for breakfast.’
‘And this helps you swim faster because . . .’
‘. . . because a man needs MEAT!’ he said, clenching his teeth and shaking his fists out of the pool.
I laughed and rolled my eyes. ‘More like offal and gravy wrapped in pastry.’
Levi shrugged then cleared his throat. ‘Seriously, though,’ he said. ‘Marco was telling me about what he eats before a race. Hope you’re going to have more than just rabbit food.’ He had his head tilted, looking at me closely as if worried about his feisty little puppy.
Worried! I wanted him to be in awe of my athletic prowess, not worried about me. I shot him a duh kind of look. ‘Think I should eat more than a bit of lettuce, do you? Like . . . I don’t know . . . maybe a bowl of pasta?’
Levi got the point. ‘I’m sure you can look after yourself, Jade. You’ve been doing a bit of your own research, haven’t you?’ He raised his eyebrows knowingly. ‘I see you doing funny stuff with your breathing and trying weird ways to change your stroke.’
That’s not the half of it, Levi . . . He had no idea about the tumble turns.
‘It’s called working on technique, Levi. You might want to give it a try some time,’ I said, enjoying the way he was looking at me, as if I was the sexiest alien he’d ever seen.
He pulled his goggles into place. ‘Who needs technique when you have so much raw talent?’ He clicked his tongue and winked like a dashing superhero and pushed off the wall.
‘Show off!’ I yelled after him.
When Levi was half a pool length ahead I started into my stroke – not pushing for speed, but reinforcing technique.
I was feeling so much stronger than when I’d first begun. I skimmed the top of the water, my hips high and limbs working together in symmetrical unity. I loved the way the feel of the water could change so much – thick and sluggish on some days and a cushion of air on others.
I heard Levi stop at the end and guessed that he turned the way amateurs do, with his head out of the water. Soon he was swimming back without pausing. No matter how much we chatted and teased during our rest phase, we were always serious during the actual laps – respecting each other’s focus. But I was always aware of Levi’s position in the lane and I think he was aware of me – like two eels sending out electrical impulses.
Levi seemed to love the water too, not that he said much about it. But he was calmer and more relaxed at the end of a session than he was when he arrived at the pool. Around the ten-minute mark, he would often look at me and smile as if focussing on me for the first time all day. If I ever asked him what he was thinking during his early laps, he’d just shrug and say ‘nothing much’. So I imagined that he was haunted by long lost football games or ghosts of opposition teams that faded slowly as he worked hard in the pool.
When I reached my marker where the black lines end, I pictured the process of tucking forwards and spinning in a tumble turn before pushing off the wall. But I did it all in my head as I stayed upright, touching the wall with my hand and turning with my head out of the water.
I wasn’t sure how much slower those kiddie turns were, but I knew they were a complete ceasing of momentum compared to pushing off and picking up speed. It was enough, I hoped, to give me the advantage that I needed.
Levi had already turned and was heading into his third lap by the time I made it halfway. He was pulling even further ahead, which was fine with me. Just as I’d planned, Levi had no idea how fast I could swim these days.
In our own private rhythms, we kept on swimming, kicking and breathing, straining and pushing in the water. Near the end of my set I sensed stillness ahead – Levi was resting. Head down, I kept going, then practiced a long reach to touch the wall.
When I stood up – panting – Levi was beaming at me with red cheeks and chest still heaving.
‘What are you so happy about?’ I asked, pulling my goggles off.
‘Aw . . . just looking forward to having a slave for a week.’
I flicked my goggles at him – bullseye, right in the nose. Except he caught them easily. ‘You realise that if I win, you’ll have to be my slave?’
Twirling my goggles, Levi shrugged two huge shoulders. ‘Well, I’m in a win/win situation then, aren’t I?’ he said and winked.
If I wasn’t already hot from swimming, I might have blushed.
Then he was pushing up and out of the pool, back muscles straining. It was the last time I saw him before the race.
The day of the race was crisp and clean – sunny enough for everyone to pretend that spring had finally arrived. I was surprised at how many people had turned up at the pool – a motley mix of Marco’s swimming and footy mates, plus Rene, Belinda and a few other girls from the school swim team. They were sitting in groups on the giant concrete steps that doubled as stands, yelling out to each other and throwing popcorn, until one of the life guards told them to stop. Someone started throwing popcorn at the seagulls after that.
I kept to myself, enjoying the shimmer of sun on water and the thrill of having a real point to prove. Levi still hadn’t turn
ed up when I hopped in the pool to do some warm-up laps. We’d talked the pool manager into giving us two lanes at two p.m. but she said we could only have half an hour.
It was a couple of minutes to two by the time I climbed out – drying as fast as I could then wrapping up in a big coat to stay warm. An attendant swapped the signs in front of the two lanes closest to the stands then winked at me before disappearing.
Rene was sitting on the bottom concrete step, next to Marco, her hair in a low bun and her face bright and eager. When I waved, she grinned and clapped quickly with straight hands as if sending me a prayer. Marco didn’t look at me, which was fine, but a surprise. When I’d visualised the race, I’d even practiced hearing lame sexist jokes from Marco and using the anger to make me swim faster.
A sudden whooping laughter rose up from the footy gang, and I turned to see what was turning them into a bunch of hyenas.
It was Levi. He had jogged out of the change rooms wearing a black hooded dressing gown, dodging and dancing like a boxer, punching bare fists in the air.
Over the loudspeakers, the theme song to the Rocky movies started playing and everyone cracked up laughing, even some of the people swimming laps in the rest of the pool who had no idea what was happening.
‘Levi, mah maaaan!’ called one of the guys. So Belinda stood up and started clapping, ‘Go, Jade!’ until everyone was standing, clapping and calling – a cheering battle to open proceedings.
Levi dodged and ducked around me – playing the crowd for all he was worth. I hadn’t expected Levi to be a showman; he was usually so quiet. Then again, I hadn’t even seen him play a real game of footy, so maybe I was seeing the real Levi for the first time ever – only truly alive when the game was about to begin.
I stretched my thigh muscles and loosened my neck. ‘Hope you didn’t forget to put your Speedos on under that,’ I said, looking him up and down.
Lev leaned in and whispered. ‘You wish, Jade.’ I felt his warm breath on my ear before he turned to the footy crowd and shook two fists in the air.
What Supergirl Did Next Page 7