Head Above Water

30. Changing

“Pick up the pace. Move it along, slackers!” Coach barked across the pool to all the swimmers. “Dalton, stop dragging your legs and kick!”

I tangled my fingers into the chain link fence separating me from the pool while I watched my former teammates train without me. There was nothing different about the scene before me. Nothing to show evidence of the fact that I’d once been among their ranks and was now absent. I hadn’t expected anything to be different—life goes on with or without us—but it didn’t keep my heart from constricting painfully at the realization that my existence was really not all that important in the scheme of things.

Of course, I knew that wasn’t the case for my loved ones. When I was gone there would be an obvious disruption in their lives—a gaping hole that only time would patch up. That thought lent me some measure of comfort, even though I felt guilty that it would be at the expense of their pain.

I studied Harker—one of my former teammates—as he flipped off the wall and I spotted a major fault in his form. He was using his arms underwater to try to help his flip rather than keeping them at his sides and letting the legs and torso do the work.

Just as I finished my thought, the coach called out to him. “Harker! Arms stay by your hips when you flip. Use your legs. Tuck your head,” he instructed.

I smiled slightly, unable to help taking satisfaction in my knowledge of the sport. I wasn’t arrogant about my abilities in the water, but I knew I was good. At least, I had been.

My smile disappeared quickly and the longing I felt every time I passed the pool resurfaced. Most of the time I’d avoided this area because it actually hurt be so close—to smell the chlorine, to hear the splashing, to see the other swimmers gliding through the water—and not be able to go in.

“Why are you torturing yourself, Gemma?”

I whipped a startled glance to my left to find Rick standing there with a pained expression. Absentmindedly I realized he must’ve gotten out of class early.

“I just—” I hesitated, not actually sure why I was doing this to myself. “I don’t know. I needed to see it,” I said in a defeated tone.

He leaned against the fence and looked at me with a genuine curiosity. “What is it you love about it?”

I took a moment to respond, not because I couldn’t think of an answer, but because I didn’t know where to start. “Everything,” I shrugged, but I knew he’d want a better answer than that.  I looked toward the pool again, but my eyes lost their focus as I recalled what it was like to be in the water. “The smell of the chlorine, the feel of the water against my skin, the adrenaline of a race. With the measured breathing it’s like mediation for me. It focuses my mind and makes all my other thoughts fade away—fears, worries, stresses all disappear. It’s like when a really good runner says they feel like they’re flying. When I swim it’s like the water is parting for me. Like I’m so powerful nothing can slow me down.”

I shook myself out of the zone and glanced back at Rick, who flashed me a sad smile.

“You remember that feeling in the coming months,” he said, the passion his voice growing as he went on. “Whenever you feel sad, or scared, or angry, I want you to think about how you feel when you’re swimming. Remember that power, yeah?” His yellow eyes bored into mine.

I nodded mutely, taken aback by the intensity of his little speech. We stared at each other for a long moment as I couldn’t break my gaze away from his piercing yellow eyes.

He took a step closer and lowered his face to my level. “Please change, Gemma,” he pleaded, his face pained. “Reconsider,” he begged.

My eyes began to burn and I closed them to block the tears. “I can’t,” I whispered.