He kissed me. “Thank you.”
“One,” I repeated, firmly. Something told me this was only the beginning, though.
Obsession is an odd thing. More times than not, it’s painted as a negative thing, and rightly so. On rare occasions, obsession can be seen as something to admire. Obsession is a gift when the obsessive uses it to become the best.
Athletes are the most common example of this theory. They sweat and toll for years, often to use everything they’ve learned in a lifetime for just a few minutes. Their bodies are forced beyond measure until they either bend to their will or break under pressure.
My parents broke years ago when their bodies wouldn’t bend. They found a doctor who specialized in doping for the top athletes. The enhancements got them on posters in malls and covers of magazines. Two dark-skinned swimmers, going for gold. It was history in the making that became a shame in our country. A shame in our community. Being Black and being publicly shamed meant everyone was publicly shamed.
When Leo warmed up, I knew a little of what was going through his head. It was what haunted me every day I went to school. Be better, be the best. Be even better than the best because they’re still going to think you’re cheating. I needed to be spotless as a daughter of cheaters and a black woman who had little to no talent.
Obsession is scary. It consumed me and convinced me that pain would help me focus. The self-harm was punishment, not a cry for attention like Mom thought. Every time I pressed my fingers into my palm, I reminded myself that’s how things could be if I didn’t stay focused on being a good person. A person who didn’t make mistakes was good.
“Leo,” I called before he could start the sprint.
He crouched down on the platform so that we were face to face. His fingers were tapping again. I grabbed his free hand and squeezed.
“What’s up?” His eyes studied mine, concerned.
“You know you don’t have to keep doing this, right?” I stared at his fingers. “You can be average and run away to Merritt Island. Maybe… I could run away with you?”
He didn’t answer immediately. His fingers stopped moving, so at least that was something. I let him pull me close. His lips were wet from the pool but impressively warm.
“I want to do this,” he promised. “Just like you want to learn how to swim.”
“I didn’t do it for myself,” I reminded him. “Like you said.”
“I know. Still, it means something. I can make this mean something.”
My protests got caught in my throat. He released my hand and turned back around. I pulled up the stopwatch on my phone.
I told him to get ready and on my signal, he dove in. He was down the pool and back in a blink of an eye. If it was anyone else, the speed would have been noteworthy. I already knew by the time he touched the pool wall, he hadn’t been fast enough.
He cursed under his breath and leaned his head back in the water. I stayed quiet, kneeling next to the edge in case he wanted to talk.
“Shit,” he whispered again. “Maybe I should have stayed on campus. Commuted back and forth or something?”
My heart sank a little because the campus was away from here. Away from everything we were becoming.
“What would have been different?” I asked, with honest hopes some introspection would help. Sometimes, laying out the what-ifs aided me with working through regret. “If you stayed?”
“I could’ve found someone to help me win,” he said, point-blank.
“With your injury? No trainer worth their pay would work with you.” I eyed him as he moved further in the water. His gaze turned to the sky. Leo was on another planet today.
“I could have found someone,” he whispered, more so to himself this time. “I didn’t want…”
“Hey, look at me.”
Leo redirected his eyes to me in an instant. My voice seemed to bring him back from whatever spell he’d fallen under.
“What are you talking about?” I could put two and two together. I wanted clarity, though.
He moved back home for the summer, even though he was supposed to be training. Nate didn’t pressure him on joining daily practices with a personal trainer. Leo had been searching for a distraction when he asked my dad for a job. Making amends with me couldn’t be the only reason. Some part of me had hoped, but… no, there was something more.
Leo came closer. His hands wrapped around my calves, tugging on me to slip into the water. I shook my head. We needed to sort this out before I got lost in his touch.
“Tell me,” I said in a low voice. “You know I won’t judge.”
