But now—I think back to the ice cream sundae and forget the Baked Alaska. I clear my head, warm and relaxed in his arms, and drift to sleep.
I wake up to the door slamming shut. My eyes blink open to find Susannah standing there in her black dress with mussed hair and smeared mascara.
“Holy shit,” she says, gaping at us, wobbly in her heels.
Levi and I are completely wrapped around each other like two starfish. We sit up, sheets falling down around our waists.
I rub my eyes. “What time is it?”
“Two thirty.” Susannah reaches for the doorknob. “Did I interrupt you guys? I can come back.”
“We were sleeping,” I say.
“I’ll go back to my room,” Levi says, yawning as he rolls out of bed cradling his pillow in his arms. “Maybe the circus is over now.”
After waving bye to him, I curl up under the covers and shut my eyes. With the TV off, the room is silent—until Susannah goes and breaks it.
“Seriously. Did you guys do it?”
I sigh, desperate for some rest. “No.”
“Have you done it?”
“No,” I say a little more forcefully.
She squeals a little and kicks her feet up and down. “But you’re totally going to! I always knew you guys would get together.”
First Georgia, now Susannah. I don’t even bother telling her been there, done that, and it’s over.
Because it is over.
But God, did it feel good in his arms.
It takes a long time for me to fall back asleep.
• • •
Morning comes way too early. Not as early as I normally get up for the drive to Nashville but still early. We don’t have a practice—it’s straight to the races.
As I’m putting on my blue and white New Wave sweats, Levi texts me, asking to meet up. I finish getting ready, grab my bag, and take the elevator downstairs, trying to ignore the knots in my stomach. This is a big week.
In the lobby I find him sitting on a sofa, bent over tying his tennis shoes, a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth.
“Morning,” I tell him quietly.
He takes a bite of the toast and smiles at me. “Sleep good?”
“Not my best.” I sit down next to him and check my phone. “You?”
“I slept better in your room. Once Jason got rid of the circus performer, he fell asleep and started snoring as usual.”
“Hey, Maggie! Hey, Levi!” a voice calls. I look up, and Roxy is walking across the lobby with the Memphis Marines in their green sweats. She gives me a smile and a wave.
I ignore her. So does Levi. He glances over at me and swallows.
Whatever. I can’t let her—or him—affect me today.
Coach Josh drives us to the Huntsville Springs Natatorium, where the four-day meet is taking place. This meet is longer than the high school meets back in Tennessee because a lot more people will be competing in the preliminary heats. First up today are prelims for breaststroke, which I’m not swimming, so I have some downtime. I stand at the end of Levi’s lane and cheer for him during the 100 preliminary, where he breaks his seed time and gets put into a faster heat for the semifinal. That is amazing considering the level of swimmers at this meet.
These are the best young swimmers in the United States.
Later in the day, he comes in fifth place at the final. Club swimming is a whole lot tougher than going against kids back in Tennessee. Plus, he complains that his ankle is tight. Levi’s disappointed; he swam the race of his life but didn’t get cuts to qualify for 100 breast at the trials. He is hoping to qualify for more than one event at the trials in Omaha. At least he’ll have two more tries in Atlanta and Cincinnati.
Coach has me do prelims for butterfly that afternoon, but I’m not competitive in the stroke. I don’t even qualify to move on to the A final. I’m placed in the D group.
That evening, I have way too much energy. During free time, Jason and Susannah convince me to walk down the street to play minigolf. Minigolf is a sanctioned activity because, according to Coach, very little can go wrong in minigolf. I mean, unless somebody rockets a ball at your forehead.
Levi is too tired to go along and wants to ice his ankle. Truth be told, after last night I’m relieved to be apart from him. At least for a little while.
Of course, as I’m aiming my golf ball down the green past a little windmill, Susannah brings up last night. “So what were you and Levi doing in bed together?”
I lose control of my club, and the ball goes way off course, missing the hole and bouncing off the brick ledge.
“Just sleeping,” I say.
“You and Levi are sleeping together?” Jason blurts.
“No! I mean, yes, we were sleeping together, but not sleep sleeping together. Resting.” Aggravated, I shake my head. “Look, we’re not doing it.”
Jason makes perverted movements with his golf club. “Bow-chicka-wow-wow.”
I roll my eyes.
After one game, I regret coming out with them because they suddenly appear to be the horniest people ever. They will not stop making comments about mine and Levi’s nonexistent sex life. So I decide to head back to the hotel on my own while they stay for another round of golf.
The hotel lobby is filled with swimmers gossiping and having a good time. I pass a group of guys who say hi, returning their smiles, but continue on to the elevator and ride up to my floor. I need some sleep. My prelims for 100/200 backstroke start tomorrow morning at nine.
As I get off the elevator, I see movement down the corridor from my room. Levi is standing outside his door with an ice bucket under his arm, chatting with a pretty girl who has long black hair and swims for the Atlanta Bullets. I think her name is Kara. He’s smiling at whatever she’s saying. He didn’t play minigolf because he wanted some rest…but he has the energy to flirt?
She leans closer to him, and he doesn’t stop her. I can’t watch this. I shove my key card in the reader, push my door open, and shut it quietly before he sees me.
Shaking with disbelief, I let out a sob into my hands. I never expected to become jealous like this—a girl who cries over a boy. Then again, I didn’t expect to grow feelings for him. My chest hurts so much my heart must be breaking in two.
After putting on pajamas and climbing into bed, I work to keep my tears at bay by biting on my lower lip. I can’t cry. It’s too dangerous. My tears might drain into my throat and chest, causing me to get sick before my races tomorrow.
Maybe he’s not hooking up with her. Maybe he went into his room and she went back to hers, and now he’s reading that urban fantasy novel about werewolves using a dating service in New York that he was so excited about, and she’s calling her boyfriend back home because she was never interested in Levi in the first place.
I need to know.
So I send him our usual bedtime text: Good night
My phone rests on the bed next to me. I keep waiting for it to light up. But the text doesn’t come for over an hour.
Good night, M
He could have been doing anything in that time, I tell myself, but most likely he was kissing a girl who is not me.
I can’t fall asleep for hours. It’s not his fault I developed deeper feelings for him. He is allowed to live his life, and that means kissing whoever he wants. Still, it sucks big time. It also sucks that I’ve been obsessing over a guy when I should be focused on my sport. What was I thinking?
The next morning in the lobby, I read my parents’ encouraging good luck texts while I pick at my protein bar. It tastes like dirt. Levi joins me right as I’m finishing the food I’m not hungry for. He has bags under his eyes. Was he up all night with that girl?
With ginger movements, Levi lowers his bag to the floor, sits down next to me, and starts rotating his foot in slow circles.
“How does it feel?” I ask.
“Stiff. A little sore, but not bad.”
“Are you going to swim today?”
“I dunno. Doesn’t seem worth it to swim free and butterfly since I already swam breast yesterday.”
I get that. Rather than risk further straining his ankle, it may be better to start fresh in Atlanta in a few weeks.
He lets out a long sigh, rubbing his eyes.