My grades aren’t the only thing I could fix, if I worked at it.
So when class is over and Kate doesn’t exactly wait for me to leave, but doesn’t streak ahead of me either, I fall in step beside her.
“I thought you’d still be out” is the first thing she says.
“Yeah, well. Doesn’t seem like I can afford to miss anything.”
She slants her eyes at me. “What did Woodham say?”
“That I can have an extension. Take an incomplete. I still have to finish the paper, but he could’ve given me an F.”
She makes a noncommittal noise.
“I deserve an F, I guess. I haven’t really done the work.”
There’s another noise from her that I can’t exactly translate, but it probably comes close to “I know.” Initially it pisses me off, but it’s true.
“Listen.” I stop her in the hall, taking in a breath. “It doesn’t fix anything, and I understand if you still hate me, but I do feel bad about what I did. It was selfish. I was treating you like—” In my head, I see it, how it was all just another competition for me to win. “Well, not like a friend. And I just want you to know that that’s what I’d rather be.”
She starts walking again, but she scoops her hand in the air for me to follow.
“We’re going to be late,” she mutters.
I keep quiet, focusing on keeping up with her sped-up walk. I think she won’t say anything else before we get to Woodham’s, and that that’s the end of that, but then I hear her mutter, “Apologies don’t—”
I grab on to it. “Apologies don’t what?”
She sighs. We’re at Woodham’s door. Probably with only thirty seconds before the late bell rings.
“Apologies aren’t necessarily supposed to fix things, is what I mean.” She huffs up her bangs with a frustrated breath. “You can’t make something you broke not broken just by apologizing.”
She’s glaring at me. I know I deserve it.
“But that isn’t the point,” she goes on, angry face shifting to something more thoughtful. “The point of an apology is to acknowledge that something happened. To recognize the harm done, so that maybe it’s possible to, you know, put things back together and recover.”
I think about Mom and all her sorrys. Realizing yesterday that I can never get Charlie back. How I owe Grier an apology too—Grier whom I suddenly miss in a way I didn’t expect.
“Yeah,” I say back to Kate. “But you break someone’s plate or vase or whatever, even if you manage to glue it back, the cracks still show. And usually there’s a chip or two you can never find. The original plate’s still busted. It’s pointless. You might as well just walk away, get a whole new plate.”
“I don’t know about pointless,” she says, opening the door as the late bell rings, “but I do know—thanks in part to you, you big jerk—that the only thing you know if you don’t try something, is that then absolutely nothing has the chance to improve.”
• • •
So after class, after I talk to Woodham and tell him I appreciate and accept his offer, I apologize again to Kate, this time for real.
“Well, it was a pretty dickhead move,” she says, moving us down the hall. “I might still be mad at you for a while.”
“I know. Apparently, I don’t know how not to be a dick.” I say it funny, but it doesn’t feel all the way like a joke.
“It’s because you’re an only kid.” She nods seriously. “None of you know how to share. At this camp I go to, the whole first week, all the spoiled only kids are the ones with the most problems. It’s why I’m glad I have a brother. Well, at least some of the time I’m glad. Siblings can suck sometimes, but they’re also pretty useful.”
We’re almost to the pickup loop where Louis is waiting, but I don’t want to stop talking.
“I saw that camp on your profile. What’s the deal?”
She shrugs, a little embarrassed. “It’s this three-week thing. I’ve been going since I was in sixth grade. It’s really fun. And you learn a lot about yourself.”
I nod, thinking. Three weeks is a long time. A long time to see what it’s like having more in my life than the pool.
“I’ve already registered for first session,” she goes on, watching my face carefully. “It fills up quick. But . . . there might be some openings later in the summer. My mom’s on the advisory board, and I could probably make you a recommendation, if you were seriously interested. There’s even a swimming concentration. The coaches are really good.”
It doesn’t matter to me if the coaches are any good. If I’m really not swimming with Van this summer—which feels insane, though maybe it’s true—then, like Gavin, I’m not sure I want to be in the club at all. Maybe I’d take a pause, then rejoin the school team. Maybe it would help me and Charlie, maybe even Nora and Maria, go back to being friends.
“I have to think about it,” I tell her, since we both have to head out. “But it sounds kind of cool.”
48
INSTEAD OF GOING STRAIGHT HOME, I convince Louis to take me by the pool. After talking to Kate and Gavin, now I need to talk to Van.
It’s weird walking out there still in my school clothes instead of my suit and my cap. Weird watching everyone prep themselves for practice when I’m not joining in. Shyrah and several others look up and smile, glad to see I’m okay, but I don’t stop to chat. I head straight past them all and knock on Van’s office door.
For a second I think he’s not in there—that maybe he really is on probation or fired or whatever Gavin and Louis have hinted at—but then the door opens, and he’s there, clearly surprised.
“Didn’t expect to see you. Come on in.”
He clears off the chair next to his desk, which is covered in training manuals and a bunch of printed-out logic puzzles.
“I won’t stay long.” I remain standing. “I know practice is about to start. I’m glad you’re here running it, at least. Louis told me about the Hawkinses.”
“Well, it’s not anything that’s up for discussion if you understand, but we’re working something out.”
That he won’t say so means it’s bad, but if he isn’t gone already, maybe it will end up okay. I want to say I’m sorry, but even after Kate’s little speech, I know in this case it really won’t help. The problem isn’t that the pictures got posted—well, maybe a little it is. And that part is my fault. But I’m also sure that most of what Grier’s parents are mad about is thinking their little princess would do anything so lewd in the first place. Not because of what it would mean about her, but what it would mean about them. So of course they would want to take it out on Van.
That she might get away with it makes my spine heat up, my joints tighten. I wish I could do something to make Grier lose out.
But as I let out my breath, I know that’s all I’ve been doing. And now look.
“I just came by because I wanted to see what you’d say if I can’t practice next week. If I have to miss State.”
“What’s the problem? Exams?”
I nod.
“Well”—he frowns a little, considering—“it’d be a setback for early college consideration. That’s one thing we couldn’t get around. And if you wanted to go for Olympic trials, we’d have to find a few out-of-town meets, maybe something seminational, but it could still be done. It’s not ideal, but there are other meets where you could make National. Like I told you, you still have good chances for scholarships. Those won’t be an issue, so long as you keep up your grade averages. You’ve always maintained the minimum to stay in the club, but if you need to buckle down for exams right now, absolutely that’s what you should do.”
I was hoping he’d help me figure out another way, but Van’s always stressed that school is important. Even if it means forfeiting State.
“When you come back, though, we’ll need to change your practice routine, work on some harder drills. More strength training too, just to give you an extra boost. I’d want to keep an eye on you, mayb
e regulate your diet, involve your parents so that we are sure you are getting the proper sleep. There’s no question in my mind you can do it, if that’s what you’re asking. It’d take some hard work, but I already know that isn’t your problem.”
“Yeah,” I say, pondering. More drills. Work with weights. A Van-approved eating regimen. A sleep diary signed by my parents. More sacrifice, more discipline.
And, after everything over the last few days, I’m not sure what for.
Van stands up and searches through the papers he moved from the chair a minute ago. “You set your mind to something, Brynn, and I know you can get it done.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, though I’m not really registering. “Thanks.”
He smiles in a final way and gestures to the door. We walk together down the length of the pool, the smooth turquoise water mirroring our outlines on its surface. Before he turns and heads to the team, he shakes my hand, tells me to keep resting. Already he’s distracted, ready to get another afternoon practice going, and a strange feeling ripples over me as I head out the doors. For the last six years, I’ve been pushing so hard to prove how much better I am, how I don’t need anyone else. I’ve been mercilessly hard on myself, because I’ve thought I’m the only person I could count on to be strong. And the whole time, that’s exactly what it’s left me—alone.
As I step into the sunshine, into the clean outside air, I gulp in a big breath. For a moment I’m dizzied by this vicious cycle swirling around my head. I know that in order to break it, whatever I decide about the rest of this summer should be about life not just in the water, but out of it too. I know I want to see what that looks like, and not just because of what Mom told me about Dad. But because I do want friends like Kate who matter, and time to have fun, and maybe to not have to work so hard every day.
The idea of freedom like that, that ability to choose how I spend my time, is scary as all hell. I’m not sure I’ll know how to do it. But as I blink away the whorls before my eyes, waving to Louis waiting in the car, I understand with a clarity that makes me smile—I really can do anything I want.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Upon completion of another novel, the cup of gratitude in my heart overflows and soaks the floor. So many people to thank! So much to thank them for!
To Meredith Kaffel of DeFiore and Company: Thank you for the relentless hours of coaching, pushing, hand-holding, negotiating, encouraging, editing, and cheerleading you have done ever since we sealed our relationship. I honestly don’t know how I did any of this without you in my life.
To Patrick Price, Editorial Director at Simon Pulse: Thank you for diving straight into this new relationship with me. Your personal pluck and keen-eyed precision made this novel as tight as Brynn’s quads and as sleek as a wet seal. (And it was also fun!)
To everyone at Simon Pulse who worked on and cheered for this book: Thank you for all the efforts (both large and small) you make to get my writing out into the world. You all are a gold-medal team, and I am wicked grateful to have you.
To Lain Shakespeare, and Maggie and Leila Chirayath: Thank you enormously for spending so much time helping me with all the swimming research and making sure I understood all the fine details of life in the swim lane.
To my beloved benefactor, Scott Burland: Thank you for throwing both of us into all this head first and for keeping me and our home afloat while I figured out how to paddle. Thank you for comforting, cajoling, listening, encouraging, cheering, and understanding, and especially for sharing all that whiskey.
To Amy McClellan: Thank you for putting me through the drills necessary to come up with a plot here. You are the best specialty coach in this department, and I always look forward to you putting me through the wringer!
To my brilliant sister, Erika McCarthy: Thank you for your amazing insight into my writing, first of all, but also into Brynn and what her personal struggles and demons might be. Thank you for helping me understand the life of a high school swimmer, and for all the lessons you teach me about apologies and everything else.
To Anica Rissi: We did it in different ways this time, but I still thank you for helping me make this book. Thank you for looking at early pages, for listening and suggesting as a friend, and for all the training you’ve given me so far when it comes to writing novels.
To my cousin, Meg Howrey: Thank you for your inspiration, not just in terms of this book, but in writing, and life, as well.
To Monika Hermann Smith, Jenni King Barnes, Rachel Trousdale, Lisa Whittle, Stewart Haddock, Franklin Abbott, Alice Murray, Eilis Gehele, Susie Evans, Amy Jurskis, Maria Barbo, Lauren McDevitt Sokal, Lei Lani Rogers, Jennifer Jabaley, and Jane Snyder: Thank you for helping me find the perfect name for Gavin!
Last and best, to my readers: Life without you is like a swimming pool with no water. Thank you for reading my books, for sharing them with your friends, and for making me feel like a winner every day.
TERRA ELAN McVOY is the author of the Edgar-nominated Criminal, Pure, After the Kiss, The Summer of Firsts and Lasts, and Being Friends with Boys. She has had many jobs (and degrees) that center around reading and writing, from managing an independent children’s bookstore to teaching writing classes, and even answering fan mail for Captain Underpants. Terra lives and works in the same Atlanta neighborhood where many of her books are set. To learn more about Terra’s life visit terraelan.com.
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Also by Terra Elan McVoy
Pure
After the Kiss
The Summer of Firsts and Lasts
Being Friends with Boys
Criminal
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SIMON PULSE
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First Simon Pulse hardcover edition July 2014
Copyright © 2014 by Terra Elan McVoy
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Cover design by Regina Flath
Interior design by Hilary Zarycky
The text of this book was set in Electra.
Jacket photograph by Thinkstock
Author photograph by Jamie Allen
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
McVoy, Terra Elan.
In deep / Terra Elan McVoy. — First Simon Pulse hardcover edition. pages cm
Companion book to: The summer of firsts and lasts. Summary: “A competitive swimmer gets in over her head as she plays a wicked cat-and-mouse game with her wild best friend and a hot new college swimmer”— Provided by publisher.
[1. Best friends--Fiction. 2. Friendship—Fiction. 3. Competition (Psychology)--Fiction. 4. Swimming--Fiction.] I. Ti
tle. PZ7.M478843In 2014 [Fic]—dc23
2013045350
ISBN 978-1-4814-0136-4
ISBN 978-1-4814-0138-8 (eBook)
In Deep Page 19
