Penfield's Greatest Swimmer

🌊~23

"Oh..." her chapped lips parted. "It's you."

At that moment, all words had left my mouth because the person standing before me looked worse than a homeless vagabond.

With her hair in a lumpy mess, Princess stood in the open space, wearing a large Lacoste t-shirt and clutching a grimy frying pan. Her eyes were bloodshot, hosting two saggy bags underneath them and a white smear of powder on her left cheek.

"If you're just gonna stare, then you should leave." She stepped back, sending the door my way until I stopped it with a hand. She arched an eyebrow.

"Can I..." I cleared my throat. "Can I come in? We need to talk."

For a minute, I thought she wouldn't let me, but she soon moved away from the open door, tossing the dirty frying pan onto the floor.

I took a cautious step in, trying to suppress my reactions as my eyes flitted over the place.

Geez, no wonder her roommate moved out, my subconscious remarked. This place is literally a junkyard.

I had to agree. My nose was currently wrinkling from the faint smell of alcohol and burnt food wafting in the rectangular room. The sooty pan sitting on the table-top stove still held black chunks of whatever Princess tried to cook before deciding to live off fast food. White take-out packs along with piles of laundry littered the floor and the two beds. Books were scattered all over the study table, some with burnt edges, others had traces of white powder on the cover. I moved closer to examine it and found more of the white powder in a half-filled ziplock bag, hiding in the corner of a slanted stack of books.

"Princess." I pulled out the bag. "Please don't tell me you've be-"

"Don't touch that!" She yelled, snatching the bag from me with frightening speed.

Ok...I guess Akweley wasn't exaggerating after all, I thought. To resort to drugs, that meant Princess had completely lost it.

"What do you want, Akwasi?" she quizzed, after successfully hiding the powdery stuff. Grabbing a can of Gulder beer, Princess snapped it open, but before she could even take a sip of the alcoholic beverage, I snatched the can from her.

"No. You've had enough alcohol," I said, emptying out the beer in a nearby flower pot and tossing the can into a bin, which was already overflowing with similar cans.

Princess shot me a glare of a thousand daggers then sighed, plummeting on her rumpled bed. "What do you want from me?"

"It's simple. I want you to get out of this gunk," I replied, carefully brushing away a pair of lacey underwear from the only available chair in the room. Turning it, I finally settled down, facing Princess on her bed. "You can't keep missing swim practice. Amina has threatened to tell Coach to take us both off the Regional line up if you don't show up for practice on Friday."

Princess blew a sloppy raspberry. "No surprise there. Amina has always hated my guts ever since I stole her breaststroke title during last year's Annual Swimming Competition. She pretends to like me, but I know she only does that to stay in Ethan's good books. What I don't get though is, why she's dragging you into it." Princess angled her body to the side. "This has nothing to do with you."

"Actually, it does. It does because..." I heaved out a breath. "I told a lie to cover up for you."

"You covered up for me?" She sat up, surprise soaking into her features. "Why?"

"Well, because I think it's hypocritical of Amina and everyone in school to judge you and call you names when half of them are secretly doing the same thing you did."