Just for A Summer

Chapter Three

Pull, breathe, kick, glide. Pull, breathe, kick, glide. Ignore the screaming crowd, ignore the ticking stopwatch, just focus.

Faster, faster, faster. Pullbreathekickglide. Now a flip turn. Last 25. Pullbreathekickglide through the screaming lungs and muscles. And... finish.

I glance at the clock on the wall. One minute, twenty-nine seconds. ONE MINUTE, TWENTY NINE SECONDS!!! A stunned silence comes over the crowd. Then hushed whispers.

"Did she break it?"

"Was she fast enough?"

"How do we know?"

My swim coach, a tall bald man of about 35, steps up to the announcing station. I can't tell if he's happy or disappointed.

"Settle down please. I have an announcement to make concerning one of our swimmers."

"As you all know, this is the last meet before championships. You have to be in the top 25 to advance. Every swimmer here has worked their hardest all season, and I am proud to announce that our very own captain, Liz Asher, is not only advancing..."

My heart seems to stand still in my chest. Every muscle in my body is tensed, waiting for the verdict.

"But has broken the record for 15-18 100 breaststroke for our region!" he finishes.

There is shocked silence for a moment as everyone comprehends what he just said. Then the crowd erupts with cheers.

I am overcome with joy. I, Elizabeth Asher, have accomplished my one swimming goal: getting into regional championships. I'll have to train for two weeks; championships are June first. Tears are streaming down my face, salt mixing with chlorine, and it's all I can do to shake the hands of the girls in the lanes next to me before I practically jump out of the pool and into a crowd of my teammates.

"Congrats Liz!"

"We knew you could do it!"

"You go girl!"

I accept wet hugs and pats on the back as I make my way back to my towel.

I am drying off when all of the air is forced out of me by a giant pair of arms.

"Liz! Rocking swim!"

Matt has me from behind, and he twirls me around into a bone-crushing hug.

"You looked great out there," he said, putting me down and staring into my eyes.

"Thanks." I blush. "How did you do?"

"Eh, I did okay. Not as good as you, Ms. Champion."

"Did you beat Rocky?"

"Nah," he says. He's trying to act like he doesn't care, but I can tell it's really getting to him. He and Rocky are really competitive, and swimming is usually Matt's thing. Lately he's been slacking on breaststroke, and I can't figure out why. Ricky's more lean and lankier, but Matt definitely has more muscle. Maybe he's just losing his oomph. He's always been better at freestyle anyway.

"When's the big event?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Um, right before my relay." He seems uncomfortable, but for the life of me I can't figure out why. This week has been really weird between us. I mean, it's our first week of summer! We usually spend every day at the beach, but as the captain this year I had to be at every practice. I'm the first freshman captain in the history of our team, so a lot of my team was dubious, especially the older ones. I think it's been a really great season though.

"Hey, are you up for pizza after the meet?" I ask, nudging him.

"You know it!" he replies excitedly. If there's one thing I know about Matt, it's that he's always ready to eat. I could live off pizza, so it's a win-win.