Whatever Floats your Boat

Chapter Twenty-One

Copyright © Georgie E. - Fruitea on Wattpad  

Chapter 21

"Good luck, Sweetie." A kiss pressed to my cheek from my mum.

Dad patted my shoulder, smiling too; "Go knock 'em dead."

"You know it," I smirk. They laughed, Dad taking Mum's hands and disappearing into the crowd. Turning my back I let out a sigh and start trudging over to the team bench. It was tiring pretending to my parents that everything was just as it had been months back, but it was easier to be this fired up Louisa, it at least made me feel like I could win.

"Hey Lou!"

I groaned as I dropped my sports bag down on the metal bench. It shows how much this competition meant to the county, they'd erected metal bleachers around the lake front. People were climbing up and down, trying to find the best spot for the day ahead. The front row was kept for the teams.

Apart from ours there were another seven bleachers along the small stretch; teams coming from schools and clubs, from the town or from the furthest edge of Cumbria and each one was swarming like a wasps nest. But none of the other teams had members trying to gouge each other's eyeballs out with their thumbs, laughing hysterically whilst doing so.

"Hey Conway," I finally respond, nose wrinkling as Dylan got Glaw in a headlock and started rubbing his scalp with his knuckles. I turned away, forcing a smile; "You ready?"

"Hell yeah!" He threw a fist in the air, causing the riffraff around us to stop and cheer. Conway turned, smile still on face, and started climbing up the metal benches towards a girl about our age with a bright smile on her face.

I unzipped my bag, trying to find a bottle of water in the sea of dry clothes, wet suit, rubber socks and goggles. Just as my hand found the plastic, it crackling in my hand, hands covered my eyes. I was pulled backwards, to a height much smaller than mine.

"How you doin'?" The voice was put-on, too deep to be a real male's voice.

"Oh my gosh, let go Keet you're pulling something in my back." There was a huff and I was given my vision back. I turned to find Keet, lip pouting, and Tristan, who was smirking down on our small friend.

"Good morning to you too, Louisa," Tristan said, turning towards me. I grinned. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I said cheerfully, swinging my elbow and sticking my thumb up. Tristan chuckled and I dropped the act. "I just want to get it over with."

"Oh don't be like that," Keet sighed. "You deserve to win, you deserve to enjoy this; forget about the stupid boys and concentrate on this stupid competition you swimming stooges go on and on about."

My laughter at the stupid nickname died when I spotted one of the boys just mentioned.

Kendal was two bleachers down with Naiad. Today she was sporting high-waist shorts and a small top that was more Coachella than Windermere. Her hands were on her hips, her nails tapping relentlessly against the beading of her short pockets. Kendal didn't look any happier with his furrowed brow and crossed arms. I wish I knew what was being said...

"Like I said," Keet said sternly. A hand was pressed onto my shoulder and jumping, I looked away. She smiled slightly, sad that she had caught me. "You need to forget about him and focus on the competition. Worry about him later."

"He doesn't cross my mind, Keet." Tristan was the one to scoff. I glared, dropping down to the metal seat. My friends joined me, flanking either side. We stayed silent, all watching as hands started to fly from Kendal and Naiad shook her head, a smirk forming on her lips.