Did I just have an orgasm?
More to the point—did I just have a wet dream about my swim coach? Oh god. This season is going to be even worse than I imagined.
3
Weston
This girl—this woman—has a passion for swimming.
The way she speaks, moves, swims—everything—it’s like she’s wearing her heart outside of her body for everyone to see. She’s got the heart of a champion and she doesn’t even know it.
Adelaide Shermer.
I see from the files that Judy left in my office that she’s 18.
Not that it matters. I’m her coach, and I’m only here for one reason: to lead Greenbridge Academy to a state championship title.
And Adelaide is going to be the key to bringing it home.
4
Addie
By the first day of my senior year, we’ve been practicing for a month.
And the wet dreams about my coach have not stopped. Even when he shouts, blows that whistle, barks at us with the bullhorn, my body reacts in mysterious ways.
All my life, my parents, friends, teachers, and administrators have fawned all over me. Given me encouragement. Built up my self-esteem.
And I appreciate that.
So do I need therapy? Why in the world does my heart race, my palms sweat, and my pussy walls throb with arousal when Coach Ford does the opposite? And why do I get more aroused the angrier he gets during practice?
At least school will give me something else to focus on.
Hunter snatches my schedule out of my hands while hanging at my locker first thing in the morning.
“What does the Queen of Advanced College Credit have on tap this semester? Basket weaving?”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “No! Just some electives that I never had the chance to take before.
Hunter shakes her head and looks up at me. “Advanced Psychology? Trigonometry II? Girl, that’s just more college cred,” she sputters.
I snatch it back. “That’s just a bonus. It’s fun and interesting!”
She sighs. “Well, at least one of us has brains.”
I playfully slap her shoulder. “Hey, don’t talk about my best friend that way. You finished all the drama and music courses this fancy school has to offer and this year they had to make something up for you. Shall we talk about advanced costume design and dramaturgy?”
She blushes. Hunter is extremely talented and she knows it.
“OK, see you at lunch. I’m just bitter that we have no classes together.”
We hug and part ways. We really have been inseparable for so long, it’s weird not being able to help each other study. Truthfully, she could have graduated early and gone off to New York to take acting classes before starting college if she wanted. I encouraged it, in fact, but then her parents stepped in with their advice that one more year of swim would make her more well-rounded on college applications.
Later, at lunch, I finally spill to Hunter that I think I had my first wet dream.
“Oh my god,” Hunter whispers over our vegan pitas she picked up from a nearby restaurant when she cut out of her study hall early. It’s so nice to be able to leave campus to get food. The cafeteria food at Greenbridge Academy is super healthy and pretty good, but it’s nice to have some autonomy, finally. And it’s nice not to have to eat lunch with the elementary and middle school kids. This school is big on different age groups interacting with each other. “Who was it about? What was it like?”