Wills doesn’t come back out until we start swimming drills. His face is stony, but focused—and though he talks to and interacts with everyone else on the team, he refuses to look at me.
I don’t know what I expected. I should have known he wasn’t going to suddenly start talking to me just because I threw on an unflattering one-piece and started swimming laps with the rest of his team.
But I remember another time he treated me like this and I’m not ready to give up. I just have to try harder.
We go through a practice, and I haven’t ever been on a swim team before, but I give it my best and the coach tells us that we have a lot of work to do to get to the level that the team was at last year. I know the coach is avoiding looking straight at me, but I know I’m part of the dead weight dragging everyone down. I’m doing surprisingly well, but nothing compared to these other swimmers who’ve been doing this for years. And certainly not anything like Wills.
If he wasn’t already filthy rich, he could easily get a swimming scholarship to any school of his choosing. He could probably go to the Olympics … if he wasn’t spreading himself out over every sport this school has to offer.
I don’t need to go to the Olympics. I just need to get Wills to speak to me.
Civilly preferably, but I’ll take what I can get at this point. It sounds pathetic, even to myself … but I’ve seen where pride will get me, and it doesn’t include them.
This pattern goes on for several days. By the end of my first week on the swim team, my hair has started to take on a greenish tint to the bleached ends—but I don’t care so much as the fact that somehow, despite everything, Wills has still managed to avoid having to talk directly to me this entire time.
At first, the other members of the swim team were quiet, but they at least acknowledged me. Each day when I leave the pool, they grow a little warmer towards me. They’ve seen me sneaking in early and practicing, and my times are showing that. I’ve improved—not by much—but it’s something. Their approval, be it just wordless nods in my direction, feels like a small accomplishment.
Between this and my other two clubs, I’m really starting to feel like I’m fitting back in.
On Friday, I am just about to walk out of the door after practice when I practically walk into Wills. I was about to chalk this whole week up as a miss in that department, but as soon as I look up at him, I know this isn’t an accident.
He’s waiting for me. My heart skips several beats and I draw in a quick breath, trying to steady myself.
“Hey, Wills,” I say with a tentative smile on my face.
He glares back. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I blink and stare at him. “What are you talking about?”
He leans close to me and points to the pool behind me. “This is my turf. Every field in this school is my turf. I told you that when you started last year. It doesn’t matter if the turf is water or field or court; it’s mine. Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing joining the swim team?”
I know he’s angry with me, but I can’t stop my heart from lurching in my chest. Letting on that this only makes me excited and supremely, irrationally happy, will only make him angrier—so I pretend to match his ire.
I just my chin out and try to look grave. “I can’t help it that you’re on literally all the teams, William,” I say. He looks shocked at my use of his full name, and I feel a little wrong saying it myself, but it serves its purpose. He’s thrown off, and I continue. “I need a sport to get into a good college. To maybe get into a good college.”
Wills is shaking his head. “That’s not good enough. This is my team. I won’t have you on it.”
I get it. I invaded his space, and he’s mad at me about it, but I don’t care if he’s mad. This is half the point. He can’t avoid me here, anymore, and he knows it.
“I’m not going anywhere. You can talk to the coach all you like, but I doubt he’ll kick me off unless you can swim for the girl’s events too.” I step up closer, until I can feel my own breath hot on his face. “So, you can accept me as your teammate, or you can quit the team. Do what you like … but I’m not leaving.”
With that I turn around and walk through the door, and Wills stands behind me, staring at me as I go.
Chapter 9
The next time we have practice, I’m surprised and more than a little suspicious to see Victoria in the locker room. She’s chatting with one o
f the other girls on the swim team, and I see her holding my swim cap in her hands. Well that explains the green hair. She’s probably been messing with it since day one, making sure the chlorine gets up and under it so I’ll look like a witch before long.
Well jokes on her. I’ve decided to embrace my green hair. Not that anyone other than Dana or I is looking these days.
I walk straight up to her and hold my hand out. I’m not at all worried about offending her; she and I divorced our friendship last year in a very permanent way.
“What are you doing with my swim cap, Victoria?” I ask coolly. “It wouldn’t fit you; your head is too big.”
She narrows her eyes at me and gives me an evil smile. “Nothing. I was just coming to visit and wondered what it was.” She laughs and struts out of the locker room like she owns it.
Victoria disgusts me, but this is my place and my time, and I’m not going to let her get into my head and put me in a funk. I have a new time to reach for in the pool, and I’m going to do that today.