“Thanks,” I tell him. “If I decide to go for it, I’ll be in touch.”
“Whatever,” he says. “Have a good spring break.”
After my paper route on Monday morning, my limbs are aching. Not because I’m sore, but my muscles miss the swimming. My arms and legs want nothing more than to spend an hour in the pool, slicing through water.
I lie in bed for a little while as Hattie snores on the other side of the wall. Watching the clock, I think back to when I would go swimming with Agnes and Freddie. If they even decided to go today, they should be gone by now.
Springing out of my bed, I tear through my roomsearching for my swimsuit and goggles. I check my wallet for the guest pass Agnes gave me and hope she hasn’t removed me from her YMCA account as swiftly as I’ve removed myself from their lives.
What little winter we had has melted away, and on the bike ride to the pool, I even begin to break a sweat. It’s a reminder that summer is coming and I’ve once again survived another winter. Except that this summer is different.
There are no hiccups when I hand over my guest pass, but just in case, I find myself jogging to the locker rooms. As I’m headed down the hallway to the pool, the permanently damp carpet squishes against my toes.
“I was wondering where you’d gone off to,” says Prudence Whitmire the moment I round the corner.
I gasp and freeze. “You caught me off guard.”
Unlike every other time I’ve seen her, she’s soaking wet and panting. She’s not shy about adjusting the back of her swimsuit and letting the material snap against her dimpled rear. I can’t help but smile, even though the mere sight of her makes me anxious about the future.
“Just been busy,” I add. I should tell her that I appreciate her offer, but I can’t take her up on it.
She tsks. “I bet you’ve softened up. Lost all that great momentum you’d been building.”
I shrug. “I do this for fun.”
She shakes her head. “Well, the way I see it, how you move in the pool is more fierce than fun.”
I force myself not to smile, but inside I’m glowing. “It was good seeing you,” I say, cutting our interaction short.
I search for an empty lap lane and end up with the one closest to the water aerobics class. The pool is so much busier at this time of day, and spring break is definitely not helping. Extra lifeguards occupy all the chairs that are normally empty, and there’s even one monitoring the constantly replenishing line of kids waiting for the diving board.
After using my bathing suit to clean out my goggles and pulling my hair into a braid, I position myself on the blocks. I stretch back deep like a cat with my fingers clinging to the front of the block before diving in.
The chlorinated water washes over me as I propel my body forward like a machine. If it wouldn’t cause my lungs to fill with water, I would sigh.
I can have this. I can still have good things.
I let myself have fun and switch strokes as I please, not bothering to focus too much on form. Only speed. When I finally resurface, Prudence is sitting on my diving block in a matching red Windbreaker suit withCoach Pruembroidered above her heart. Her fingers are clenched around a stopwatch, and she jots down a time on a piece of scratch paper.
“You on spring break?” she asks.
“Yes, ma’am.” My arms are crossed over the lip of the pool and my heart is thudding in my chest.
“This is a pool buoy. Keep it in your gym bag and bring it to the pool to train with next time.” She reaches down between her legs and throws a small foam float into thewater. “Meet me here tomorrow morning. Same time. We’ll run a few drills. You got athletic shoes? Bring those too.”
I open my mouth to protest—mainly ’cause I’m in the habit of fighting back—but she stops me when she adds, “Just for fun.”
That night after work, Hattie is waiting for me on the porch with bright eyes and flushed cheeks.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“Come sit down,” she says.
“What’d you do?” I ask, knowing better than to not be suspicious.
“I went on a date.”
“Okay?”
