I didn’t have any good advice about breaststroke turns. I said, I bet you’ll do really great. You won last time. It was a stupid thing to say. I knew winning once had nothing to do with winning the next time. I said, I’m sorry.
Alexis said, What are you sorry for?
I said, Is it okay that I’m coming to the party?
She said, Of course, why wouldn’t it be okay?
I wanted to say You know why. Not as an accusation. I wanted to ask why she hadn’t called, or if I could have the number of her private line so I could call if I needed to.
Alexis turned off the shower and turned toward me. My body felt like an animal’s. She said, The party’s for the whole team. I’m glad you can come.
WHEN I GOT into the car my dad turned down the radio and asked, How’s the training?
I said, It’s okay. I said, You don’t have to call it training.
My dad said, Sure. What do you call it?
I said, Calling it training makes it sound like I’m competitive. I wished I’d had something better to say to Alexis about her turns. I’d wanted to give Alexis something that could really help her. I felt like a poser, like the worst kind of striver. I said, It makes it sound like you want me to get into the Olympics or something.
My dad always drove slowly but now he slowed so much that the car behind us flashed its brights. My dad pulled over and the car sped around us. I said, Why are we stopping?
My dad said, Julie. You know your mother and I never want you to feel any pressure from us. Especially about swimming.
We were pulled over in front of the Taco Bell. I’d only eaten there once or twice but kids with cars, Alexis’s friends, went to the drive-through during lunch and came back with crumpled burrito wrappers on their dashboards. A seven-layer burrito sounded amazing. It sounded so warm and complete. I almost asked my dad to pull into the driveway.
My dad said, You’ve got to tell me. Are we pushing you too hard?
I said, You’re not pushing me at all. I didn’t know what it would look like for them to be pushing me. They’d be asking when my meets were, offering to pay for extra lessons. They’d tell me what, that I couldn’t have dinner until I won them a trophy? That I couldn’t come home without a neckful of medals?
My dad said, Was it because of that magazine? All of Jordan’s stuff?
I said, Was what because of it? I had never seen my dad like this before. His face looked like nothing was holding it together. It was worse than if he’d been crying. I wasn’t sure if I knew enough about driving to drive us home, if it came to that.
My dad said, I told your mom that I thought you and Jordan might get closer when you got older. That’s how it was with me and Uncle Dan.
My dad and his brother were best friends or like their version of best friends. I said, What did Mom say?
My dad laughed. Now he was crying a little, some wetness he wiped away. He said, She accused me of training you to be a spy.
I didn’t really get it but I laughed with him.
ON THE FRIDAY of the meet Coach stood by the bus with his clipboard. The hood of my hoodie was up. I had on my parka and my gloves. If Coach stuck me in a relay I would quit right there. I would turn around and get off the bus. Coach looked at his clipboard, crossed something out, looked at me. He said, What do you say, Julie? You ready to give the 500 a go?
I said, Okay.
THE REFEREE BLEW his whistle to start the meet. It was a different referee from the last meet.
The Franklin swimmers wore black and gold.
Erika asked me if I was nervous. I said, A little.
I thought Alexis might look to me for luck before her races.
The bleachers cut into my thighs. Erika said I didn’t need to be nervous, that I was going to kick ass.
The bleachers blew up in a cheer.
My legs fell asleep.
My legs bit and buzzed. I didn’t have legs.
I couldn’t swim without legs. I could, but I wouldn’t — too much dead weight. I imagined Coach scooping me up and dropping me in.
Feet stamped metal and the bleachers shook.
The starting gun went and went.
I was tired. I leaned my head back against nothing.
Alexis stepped up on the block for the 100 Breast. If she looked at me, she might not acknowledge that she was looking at me, but I’d know it and she’d know it.
Alexis sliced the water. Her shoulders and head ducked and rose. I arrowed her luck. I pulled for easy turns. Her hips moved and I moved.
I said, I’m not really nervous.
Someone started We Are the Champions. Erika pulled my arm to get up and clap.
At the start of the 100 Butterfly, two races before mine, I stood up and stamped out the buzz in my legs. I went to the side of the bleachers to stretch. I held on to the pole of the bleachers with my right hand and bent my left leg behind me.
Alexis said, Hey Julie.
My hamstrings were tight. I switched legs. It was as if I hadn’t swum in weeks.
She said, That’s so great that you’re swimming the 500. Are you nervous? She must have been used to winning by now but she still had the glow.
I said, A little.
She said, You’re cute.
I said, What? I was surprised she’d said it right there, with everyone in possible earshot.
She said, I said that’s really cute, that you’re nervous. She said, Do you still want me to count laps for you?
I’d had a dream version of this day and in it I got to swim the 500 Free and Alexis, who was the reason I was swimming it, who’d been the first one to see that it might do something for me to swim it, was at the other end of the lane dipping numbers in the water to keep track of my laps. My edges burned. I said, I asked Erika.
She said, Oh. Okay.
I said, I didn’t know if you’d remember. Now I couldn’t remember if she’d actually offered or if it had only been part of the dream version. I said, I’m really sorry.
She said, No worries.
I said, I can tell Erika I changed my mind.
She said, No, your friend should do it. She said, Good luck, Julie, and put a smile on her face. It was the smile that cut a curved shape out of me and let the air rush through.
Because it was a home meet, I got to swim in my lane — my Lane Six, still, for now. Coach came over and put his hand on my shoulder. He said, Take it slow and steady. Just think of it as five 100s. He jostled my shoulder a little. He said, But no stopping, right? He tried to make it sound like a joke.
I curled my toes over the end of the starting block. At the other end of the lane, Erika waved and whistled and shook the counting board and looked very far away. The gun went and I went.
ERIKA WAS THERE at the finish to pull me out by my rubbery arms. She said, You did so great!
My breaths swayed my whole body. Nobody was left in the pool. The guys’ 500 swimmers were already climbing on the blocks. I said, I didn’t do great.
Erika put her arm around me. She said, Were you trying to win the gold?
I said, No.
Erika said, Right. I’m super proud of you. It felt like something a mom would say, but I was too exhausted to argue.
The gun went and the guys took off. Coach was in coach mode, yelling Pull! slamming his hands together. I walked past expecting him not to notice me but he grabbed my elbow and pulled me back. He said, Julie. Nice job out there.
I said, Thanks. I said, I got pretty tired near the end.
He said, Comes with the territory. I followed his gaze out to the pool, where lanes of guy swimmers kept their pace up and tumbled from length seven to eight, from eight to nine. It was nothing tangible, nothing I could notice that made them move like that.