The team comes back stronger than ever after the holiday break.
The Hornets remain undefeated in the relay events for the rest of the season. I finish first in the breaststroke, Hunter medals in the butterfly, and Ridley snags first place in the conference in the 50 freestyle.
We are headed to state by the time February rolls around.
Neither Roland nor Coach Ford have been on my mind in what feels like ages, other than in the context of competition.
Yep. I’ve bottled up my feelings with a stopper made of dynamite and put it on the back of a shelf made of matchsticks on a hot day. But still, they’re bottled up for now.
And then, the coach has us lined up for the morning’s pep talk outside the activity bus, and my silly fantasies start to creep up.
“Ladies, visualize this as just another swim meet. But here’s the thing…”
Here’s the thing, Coach Ford, are you ever going to smile? I wonder if you’d smile when I step into your shower with you? I wonder what you’d like? Would you want me to go down on you first? Would you be patient with me, or bark instructions and pull my hair? Would you set the rhythm, force me to open up and let you go as deep as you want? Yeah, I’ve been watching sex videos so I know exactly what to do. I don’t care if you never smile for me. But goddamn, I’m gonna make you moan.
I lock on to that feeling for the day’s heats. And I crush them. I snap up medals in the breaststroke and butterfly. We place first in relays. Several of the girls medal and the Hornets win first place overall.
We are going back home state champions—a first for the school in over four years, and the first for the women’s team ever. Hunter hugs me and she and I stand there on the pool deck and bawl our eyes out. This is it. This is what we’ve been working toward our whole lives since we learned to swim together at the city pool at five years old.
My best friend and I just won state.
I can hardly believe it.
On the way home on the bus, Coach Ford finally cracks a smile. He’s sitting alone, looking at his phone.
I watch him, and I can’t help but wonder who is putting that smile on his face.
If not the team, then who?
Something comes over me and I decide I no longer care about propriety. I slide into the seat next to him and hold out my hand.
He looks up, his smile fading. He looks…scared.
“What can I help you with, Shermer?”
Give me your phone.”
“Excuse me?”
“Give it.”
His brow furrows together but he actually hands it over.
His eyes are on me while I tap on his Notes app and write something only for him to see.
I’ve been on the pill for months now. And I’m a virgin. Whenever you’re ready. You have until prom night, but that’s your last chance.
I hand it back to him. He looks down and reads what I typed.
His lips part. His breath speeds the rise and fall in his beefy chest. “Shermer.”
“What.”
He glances around. “You can’t talk to me like this.”
I use my ace in the hole. “It’s fine. I’m sure Roland is going to ask me anyway to make Ridley jealous. I guess I can go with him.”
“No.”