1
IVY
The blaring alarm clock breaks through my dreams. I slap at my phone, attempting to silence the noise. It feels like I’d barely closed my eyes mere minutes ago. In reality, it had been four hours since I got home from my late shift at the café. I knew picking up extra hours would be rough, but every muscle in my body is aching for a break that I won’t get. Because I have to get to the recreation center before I’m late and it throws off my entire day.
So, I’m out of the bed and getting ready for the long day ahead. Part of that is pulling on my favorite swimsuit that I purposely saved for today. It’s what I swam in when I set two records in my division for the 500 freestyle and 200 free relay as a junior. While it’s just practice, wearing it reminds me of my goal and helps me push past the lack of sleep. I need all the extra motivation I can get. Even though I can’t wait to see what senior year competition brings, I’m dragging in the moment. Once I pull on a pair of running shorts and a tank, I grab my bag, then stop in the kitchen to snatch a banana before heading to the car. I can hear Coach fussing about not properly fueling up beforehand, but I’ll get something else later. No matter howI try, I can’t force myself to eat much so early in the morning, especially when I already feel like I’m in a rush.
As soon as I’m out the door, the empty parking spot comes into view, I lose the little appetite I have as my sense of urgency kicks into even higher gear. “Shit.” I don’t even need to guess where my grandma’s car is. Dad has it even though Uncle Shawn told him specifically he wasn’t supposed to drive it. It was only supposed to be on loan for me to use until my car was out of the shop. But that’ll be an argument for later when Dad shows up. Right now, I just need to get to the pool.
Rushing back inside, I go straight to the kitchen. Thankfully, my mom is still home and filling her tumbler with coffee, which is her last step before leaving for work.
“Can you give me a ride to the rec center, please?” I plead, trying to keep my annoyance to a minimum.
“At this hour, Ivy?” Mom glances at the clock on her phone.
“Yes. I need to get some laps in early because I won’t have time later. And Grandma’s car is gone.”
“Okay.” She knows without me saying the rest. Mom grabs her coffee then moves next to the sofa and tells my brother, “Zachary, I’m leaving for work.”
“Yeah. Bye.” Since he’s become a teenager, his attitude has been short and his attention span even shorter, except when it comes to his video games—which he’s totally fixated on at the moment. I’m sure I wasn’t a gem at fourteen, but I don’t remember being this much of a pain. Thankfully, he no longer has his gaming system in our bedroom. It was bad enough sharing space with him, but being woken up at all hours of the night was too much. During one of those aggravating all-nighters a few months ago, I’d had enough and was about to throw everything out the window until he decided to move his equipment into the living room.
“Mom, we have to go now or we’re going to be late.” I hold the door open, waving for her to walk out sooner than later.
My annoying little brother decides to pull his attention from his game. “Simmer down, Ivy. The rec doesn’t even open the doors until like five o’clock.”
“Yes, I’m aware. And since it’s already four thirty in the morning, it will be open soon. Shouldn’t you be sleeping by now instead of playing video games until dawn?”
“Did you get any sleep?” Mom asks, looking at Zachary who never removes his eyes from the television.
“A few hours. I’ll take a power nap after this level.”
Mom shakes her head but doesn’t inquire any further. “Don’t forget to tell your dad that I need him to call me when he gets home.”
“Sure,” Zachary replies before yelling at the screen, “Not that way.”
“Zachary, tell your father to call me. His phone goes straight to voicemail, so I doubt he’s getting any of my messages. Don’t forget.”
We’re never going to get out of here. “Mom, please. Let’s go. He’s a lost cause.” As is my father. Even if Zachary gave him the message, Dad won’t do it. He’ll be too preoccupied with whatever scheme he has going at the moment.
“Zachary,” Mom begins before my idiotic brother cuts her off with a quick, “Got it. Tell Dad to call Mom.” He then jumps to his feet and yells, “Why would you do that?”
“If Dad doesn’t come home before lunch, call me. Okay?” she continues.
“Yeah. I said I got it, Mom.”
“Bye. Love you,” Mom calls out as she finally follows me out the door. I’m already in the passenger seat, my seat belt buckled as she gets in. I really need to get my car out of the shop soon. Like yesterday. Because I can’t do this every morning. I just needto save up a little more for it. Again. But I’m thinking of taking up Uncle Shawn on his offer to cover the cost for now as long as he’ll let me pay him back.
She starts up the car then shifts to face me as she fastens her seat belt. “Why don’t you drop me off at the hotel? Then you can keep the car and swing back by later to pick me up.”
“No. I won’t have time. As soon as I’m done at the rec I have to head over to school for the cheer camp we’re having all week, then I have my shift at the café tonight. There’s no way I’ll make it back to the hotel to pick you up and be able to get to work on time.”
“How are you getting to cheer?”
“Everett. He has football. He offered me a ride before Uncle Shawn said I could use Grandma’s car.” And since there’s a change of plans, I’ll call and let him know I’ll take him up on his generous offer. Thank the heavens for best friends with a working ride.
Mom gives me a concerned expression as she shifts the car into reverse. Once we’re finally backing out, I feel a little more at ease. Like I’m actually making progress and will be where I need to get sometime today.
Her hands tighten and release the steering wheel a few times, and I know she’s about to start the lecture. She always does that before she says something she knows I won’t like. And she’s right. I don’t like it because she tells me, “You know you don’t have to do it all, right, Ivy? Swim team, track, cheer, working, and keeping up with your studies going into your senior year. It’s too much.”
