For the 200 back heat though, my time is a hundredth of a second slower than Roxy’s and one other swimmer. I can make that up in the race. I know I can. Without another glance at her, I hop out of the pool.
I spend the morning cheering for kids from Hundred Oaks and New Wave during their races. Levi keeps his distance, which hurts, but I understand why. Our minds should be on the pool. I can’t help but sneak glances his way, and he keeps catching me. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
Later in the afternoon when it’s time for the 200 back final, I go into the locker room, take a shower to warm up, and pull my sweats on over my suit. I picture my start, thinking hard about making sure my feet don’t drag across the water. I breathe deeply as I put my tennis shoes back on for the walk across the pool deck.
When I go back into the hallway, I find Levi talking to Roxy. She’s very close to him. Smiling. Looking at his lips. She touches his hip. He doesn’t stop her. Another minute and she could have him under the bleachers.
My goggles fall from my hand to the floor.
Roxy looks away from Levi and gives me a taunting smile. “Oh, hey, Maggie. Levi and I were just catching up.”
I can’t help but cover my mouth and let out a little cry. When he sees my reaction, Levi’s face starts turning red. I walk up to him, grab his arm, and pull him away from her.
“Territorial, much?” she snaps.
Once we’re in a private corner, I lay into him. “What the hell?”
He looks past me over my shoulder. “What?”
“How could you do that right in front of me?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You let Roxy touch your hip.”
His voice turns more gentle. “I wouldn’t fool around with her, Mags. You know that.”
“Oh.” I breathe deeply through my nose, trying to calm down. “I don’t see why you’d be around another girl anyway.”
“It’s not like you and I are dating.”
That’s true. I basically encouraged him a couple weeks ago to have sex with another girl if he needed to. But I would never suggest he hook up with my rival! Especially not in a place I might see him…
“Why would you do that right outside my locker room?” I snap, and pause, suddenly understanding. “Did you want me to see you with her?”
“It wasn’t about Roxy,” he says, shutting his eyes. “It could’ve been any girl.”
“Any girl?”
“I told you, Mags. I don’t think I want a girlfriend right now. I can’t.”
“So you were hoping to hook up with somebody else?”
He doesn’t respond, and I know I’m right.
The announcement for the next race—200 back—my race—says it’s about to start and swimmers should get ready to take their marks. I cover my eyes with my hands. A sob falls from my mouth.
When he sees how upset I am, Levi takes my elbow. “I’m sorry. I got scared.”
“Scared of what?” My voice breaks.
“That we’re getting too close.”
My lips tremble. Don’t cry, don’t cry. “So rather than talk to me you decide to piss me off, hurt my feelings”—break my heart—“right before my race? Right before the fucking state championship? Couldn’t you have kept it in your pants until after? Real mature, asshole.”
Not waiting for him to respond, I turn and march toward the pool, ready to win this race. But the moment I hit the deck, Roxy looks over at me and waves with a smirk. The air whooshes out of me.
I walk up to the water, splash some on my hands. Make sure my suit is in place.
“Maggie.”
Levi is behind me now. I ignore him.
“Magpie.”
“Don’t,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I was wrong. I’m so sorry. So sorry.” His frantic expression mirrors the time Pepper ran away with her leash in the woods by Normandy Lake and we couldn’t find her anywhere. “You got this race.”
“Go. Away.”
His eyebrows pinch together. “Let’s talk after.”
“That’s what I thought the plan was,” I say through clenched teeth. “But instead of being mature about it, you push me away. How could you, Levi? I thought we were friends.”
“We are!”
I dunk my hands in the cool water again. “Seriously, I need you to get away from me right now.” My voice is shaking. I’m not sure I even have the energy to swim. I’m about to cry.
When I look up and see Levi’s eyes watering, I really do start crying.
Then Coach Josh is there, hugging me against his side. “What’s going on?”
I’m so embarrassed and hurt I can’t tell Coach the truth. A tear drips down my face. I swipe it away.
“It’s my fault, Coach,” Levi says.
“Get warmed up,” Coach tells him, and he actually listens and leaves this time. Once he’s out of my sight, I start breathing in through my nose, out through my mouth. Strong and steady, I tell myself.
I’ve been working toward this day my entire life. No boy is gonna mess that up. But then a vision of another girl touching his hip makes me cry harder. I can’t help it. It doesn’t matter that it was Roxy. He’s right—it could’ve been anyone, and I’d still be freaking out.
“Tell me what happened,” Coach says.
“Levi acted like a jerk.” To hurt me. To push me away.
“Can you put it out of your mind?”
I wipe away a tear with my finger. “Trying.” My voice breaks again. How could Levi do this? Do I even know him at all?
“The race is in three minutes,” Coach says. “What do you want to do?”
“I’m gonna swim.”
Coach squeezes my shoulder. “That a girl.”
By this time, Mom is striding across the pool deck. She came down out of the stands to check on me? God. What a tidal wave of embarrassment. She pulls me into her arms and hugs me tight.
“Are you okay, Tadpole?”
“No.” My voice breaks.
“Is this about Levi?”
“How’d you know?”
“I could tell things were changing between you,” Mom says quietly. Seriously, how do moms always know?
“She’s going to race,” Coach says.
“Good,” Mom replies with a smile, handing me some tissues. I wipe my eyes and blow my nose. I refuse to look at the other swimmers as I stretch my arms a final time.
I hop into the pool. Roxy’s in the lane right next to me. As swimmers with the best prelim times, we are in the middle of the pool.
“Lovers’ spat?” she asks.
I don’t respond. I take a few deep breaths, grab hold of the bars above me, and prepare to push off backward. Before the buzzer sounds, I look for the Make Waves pendant that always dangles in front of me. It’s not there.
The buzzer beeps. I throw myself backward, pointing my toes so my feet don’t drag, and begin my fluid stroke. Kick, kick, kick. I can see Roxy to my right. I keep my pace steady. Don’t change it. Don’t change it at all. Push, push, push. I flip into my first turn, nailing it. I shove off the wall as hard as I can, flip over, and dolphin kick back to the surface. My muscles are loosening up. I’m feeling more comfortable. I take a risk and increase my speed ever so slightly. I make the second and third turns fine. I’m rocking this. The other turns go smoothly too. On my last length of the pool, I have the energy. I push the tiniest bit harder. The cheering crowd is going crazy. I slap my hands against the side of the pool. The race is over.
I turn to check the scoreboard. I lost by a hundredth of a second.
I cover my mouth.
I lost. I lost to Roxy. Again. I shouldn’t have lost.
If I can’t win state, what business do I have being on the US Olympic team? How would I even make it past the one hundred other swimmers who already have cuts for Omaha?
Roxy turns to me and gives me a hug. I smile through pursed lips, and climb out of the pool.
“You did great,” Coach Josh tells me.
“I lost.”
Coach places both hands on my shoulders. “You know Katie Ledecky doesn’t do as well in short course either. She loses lots of those races. You’re just like her. You’re going to kill it in long course next month, understand?”