by Niles, Naomi
“Yup,” Langdon told him, patting him on the back.
Martin’s face was awe filled as he took in the sight. “I can’t wait to swim there,” he breathed.
“You’ll have to wait your turn, buddy,” Langdon said, his eyes turning to the left as something caught his notice. I followed the direction of his gaze and caught him staring at a group of young women who had just entered the pool area.
“Well, well, well,” Langdon said, like some villain in an old movie. “Look what we have here.”
“Seriously,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You couldn’t be any creepier if you tried.”
“Shut up, Alan,” Langdon snapped. “I’m concentrating.”
It appeared that Langdon wasn’t the only one. Martin, Kenneth, and Stuart fell silent, too, and all four of them observed the women from a distance. I was about to ignore them all and continue walking toward the weight room when she caught my eye.
She was wearing a navy-blue one-piece with thin straps and an open back. Her legs were long and lean and her body gracefully proportioned. It was hard to make out the details of her features from my distance, but I knew instinctively that she was beautiful. A part of me recognized her, but I wasn’t able to put a name to the face yet.
Her hair was on the curly side, a dirty blonde with streaks of brown running through it. She was standing next to a slightly shorter girl with curlier, black hair.
“I recognize a few of them,” Martin said.
“Obviously,” Kenneth replied. “They probably all competed in the Olympics at one point or another. The tall one in the white one-piece is Stacy Crewe and the one standing next to her is Michelle Leigh. They’re both silver medalists.”
“I met Michelle a few summers ago,” Langdon said. “She’s wild in the sack.”
“You slept with Michelle Leigh?” Martin asked in amazement.
“Don’t listen to him,” I said firmly. “They made out. That was as far as it got.”
Langdon shot me an annoyed grimace. “You’re such a killjoy.”
“I’m a truth teller,” I clarified.
“Yeah, it’s fucking annoying.”
“Hey,” I said, turning to Kenneth. “Who’s the tall, slim one in the navy? She looks familiar, but I can’t remember her name.”
Kenneth squinted his eyes in her direction. “Oh… that’s Jessica Winters.”
“That’s the name,” I said, finally remembering. “She won silver during the last games, didn’t she?”
“Yup.” Kenneth nodded. “I don’t know much else about her though. She’s pretty reclusive.”
I had watched Jessica Winters’s compete in the games. She was a strong, dedicated swimmer, and she had an almost panther-like grace when she was in the water. My instinct was right though; Jessica was a beautiful woman and her face had managed to carve out a little space in my memory.
I noticed Langdon watching me and I turned to him. “What?” I asked defensively.
“See something you like, did you now, buddy?” Langdon asked in a wheedling voice.
I rolled my eyes. “I was just trying to place a familiar face.”
“Sure you were,” Langdon said with a wink that told me he didn’t believe a word I had just said. “I bet you were thinking what a great swimmer she was, too, right?”
“It’s like you read my mind,” I said seriously.
Langdon winked suggestively and smacked me hard on the back. “Oh, I think I’ve read a little bit more of your thoughts than you might like.”
I rolled my eyes and spurred the small group into movement. “Come on. We can’t spend the whole day standing out here like stalkers gawking at the women’s team. Let’s go. We have work to do.”
The boys started walking toward the weight room, and I was forced to follow them, fighting the urge to glance back at Jessica Winters.
Chapter Six
Jessica
Winnie’s eyes were fixed on me, and I knew she was curious. I felt self-conscious, but a part of me also felt flattered. I had never thought of myself as a particularly interesting person. The only thing remotely intriguing about me was my status as an Olympian swimmer. You took that away, and I was just an average girl still living at home with her parents.
So, Winnie’s obvious curiosity was more than just flattering; it was also surprising. I had never imagined I was the type of person who would ignite curiosity in anyone. Winnie sat on the edge of the pool and dipped her feet into the water.
“Come on,” she said, gesturing to me to join her. “The water’s amazing.”
I sat down next to her. On the other side of the pool, Coach was testing out the skill and stamina of each girl with practice laps. Michelle and Stacy were incredible swimmers and their experience certainly showed. Both girls had a real shot of winning gold this time around.
“So, Jessica?” Winnie started, turning a pointed gaze to me.
“Yes?”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
My eyebrows rose instinctively. That was not the question I had expected. I had expected her to ask something swimming related, but it was clear that Winnie had no interest in comparing swimming histories.
“Umm… no,” I replied.
“You don’t sound certain,” Winnie said in amusement.
I smiled, hoping she wouldn’t think I was daft. “I am,” I replied quickly. “I would remember if I had a boyfriend out there.”
“I should hope so.” Winnie smiled. “That surprises me actually.”
“What does?” I asked.
“The fact that you don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Really?” I asked, matching her tone. “How come?”
“I don’t know,” Winnie replied thoughtfully. “You just seem like the type of girl who’s had a steady boyfriend from the ripe old age of, like, twelve.”
“That’s an odd assessment.”
Winnie shrugged. “I guess I got it wrong this time.”
I glanced at Winnie out of the corner of my eye, wondering if I should open up to her or keep silent. I was so used to keeping my thoughts to myself that it was hard to decide to share. “The truth is… I’ve never really had time for a boyfriend,” I admitted at last, deciding to take a leap of faith in the hopes that Winnie wouldn’t ridicule me for my sheltered past.
“Hey, I get it.” Winnie nodded. “When you choose this kind of career, it’s hard to find time for much else. I haven’t really had boyfriends either.”
Relief flooded through me at Winnie’s words. Perhaps I wasn’t as strange as I had believed. “I used to get really frustrated, you know,” Winnie continued. “I felt like I was missing out on everything in life.”
“Me, too,” I said immediately. “I can totally relate.”
“But then I hit sixteen and I was like, fuck it, I’ve just got to suck a bunch of dicks while I’m young and able.”
I looked at her, a little taken aback. “Ah,” I said lamely.
Winnie laughed. “Have you stopped relating?”
“A little,” I admitted, blushing slightly.
Winnie smiled. “Hey, to each her own, you know? But for me… sex is an important part of life, and I want to enjoy it while I can.”
“Sure,” I said quietly, feeling my nerves kick in suddenly.
“Life is short,” Winnie continued, unfazed. “And I plan to live it as fully as possible.”
I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable, but I didn’t want the conversation to end. I enjoyed talking to Winnie, and it was nice to have someone to talk to after months of having one-sided conversations with the characters in the books I loved to read.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
Winnie guffawed. “Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “Like I said, I don’t have time for boyfriends with my training schedule. All I really have time for is a good fuck every now and again.”
“But… where do you meet these guys?”
Winnie shrugged. “Around. In clubs and pub crawls, at
parties, on Tinder… there’s a whole array of different forums to choose from. Finding a guy to fuck isn’t hard these days, Jessica.”
“Right.” I nodded, trying not to look stumped by the conversation.
“I take it you’ve never been on Tinder?”
“I… no, I haven’t,” I replied. “I guess I like to meet guys the old-fashioned way.”
“Facebook?”
I laughed. “Not quite.”
“In any case, why would I get latched down with a boyfriend just before training starts?” Winnie asked me seriously. “There’s a buffet laid out for us, and I certainly don’t want to be eating from home, if you know what I mean.”
I laughed. “You sound genuinely more interested in the men’s swim team than you do with the actual swimming.”
“Of course I do.” Winnie nodded freely. “Swimming will fade from my life eventually, but dicks are forever.”
“Wow,” I said, shaking my head at her. “That was truly poetic.”
“Thank you.” Winnie took a dramatic head bow. “Frankly, sometimes I think I’ve missed my calling as a poet. I could have been one of the greats.”
“You do realize that they frown upon what they call ‘romantic entanglements’ during training, right?” I reminded her. “It’s actually in the rule book.”
“They can warn us, but they can’t force us into complying with that ridiculous rule,” Winnie said, waving away my reminder. “I mean, they might as well ask all of us to stop breathing. They can’t have a bunch of young men and women in the prime of their lives under one roof and expect them to keep their hands to themselves. It’s just wishful thinking, in my opinion.”
“Well, they’re definitely going to be fighting a losing battle in your case.”
“I’m glad you’ve noticed,” Winnie said. “I knew you were a smart one from the moment I met you.”
We laughed together, and I felt the unfamiliar warmth of bonding with a friend.
“Hey, Winnie! Jessica!” Heather called from across the pool. “You two are next.”
We picked ourselves up from the corner of the pool and walked around to where Coach stood with the rest of the girls. Erin had just finished her last lap, and she pulled herself out of the pool, panting heavily.
“How’d I do?” she asked a little nervously as she approached Coach.
“Not bad for a start,” Coach replied without enthusiasm. “You’re going to have to push really hard as the weeks go by. We’re going to have to double your speed before these next three months are up.”
Erin’s face fell as she heard Coach’s assessment. “What was my time?” she asked without much hope in her voice.
“One minute and fifty-five seconds,” Coach replied.
“Seriously?” Erin gasped.
“You just started hardcore training,” Coach replied in a measured voice. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. That’s not bad for hundred-meters freestyle.”
Erin walked away, deflated, and I couldn’t help but feel bad for her. It was tough to know you were lagging so far behind.
Coach turned her attention to Winnie and me. “All right,” she said. “Winnie, you’re up first, hundred-meters freestyle.”
Winnie nodded. She put on her swim cap, adjusted her goggles and took her place at the head of the pool. She got herself in position and waited for Coach’s signal.
“Ready?” Coach called.
Winnie gave her a thumbs up.
“On my whistle,” Coach said.
Moments later, the blast of the whistle echoed across the water. Winnie’s dive was beautiful, but she was a messy swimmer. She displaced more water than necessary. My dad had always told me that my execution mattered as much as my speed, and I knew he would not be impressed with Winnie’s aggressive swim style.
When Winnie’s turn was over, she pulled herself out of the pool and jogged up to Coach. “What’s my time?” she asked in a tone that suggested she would be okay with whatever answer she received.
Coach checked her time. “One minute and thirty-four seconds,” she replied. “Not bad… there’s room for improvement.”
“Isn’t there always, Coach?” Winnie said with a cheeky smile as she sat down and glanced over at me. “You ready to put the rest of us to shame?”
“I’ll give it a shot.” I smiled as I walked over to the head of the pool.
I looked down at the cool, blue-green water with and let that familiar wash of calm spread through my body. The moment I heard Coach’s whistle, I dove straight for the water. It hit me from all sides, flooding my body with a million different sensations, but I didn’t stop to enjoy any of them. I sped through the water with my mind focused only on speed and strength and regular breathing.
When I finished my hundred-meter lap, I popped up out of the water and removed my goggles. I didn’t bother getting out of the water; it was too lovely to think of getting out just yet. Instead, I swam over to where Coach and the rest of the girls stood.
“Jesus, Jessica,” Winnie said in a tone that suggested she was genuinely impressed. “That was some lap you just swam.”
“I did well?” I asked, unsure of my time. It felt fast in my head, but things always felt fast when I was swimming.
“Your time is fifty-nine seconds,” Coach replied, nodding at me with approval. “That’s pretty good. Keep it up.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and let myself feel proud for a moment. It was only afterward that I noticed how the other girls were looking at me. The indifferent attitudes from that morning had been replaced with something else.
I threatened them. Winnie was the only one who seemed genuinely happy for me.
“Geez, that was something,” she said without even a trace of envy. “I mean… you can really swim.”
“Well… everyone here can swim,” I said, aware that several of the girls were listening.
“Sure.” Winnie shrugged. “But not quite like that. You were like a fish; you barely displaced any water at all and the speed… man oh man, were you fast. You even beat Michelle.”
Michelle pursed up her lips as though she didn’t like that fact being pointed out.
“It was nothing,” I said. “Swim times change all the time.”
“Sure.” Winnie nodded. “But once you’ve got it, you’ve got it, and trust me, my friend… you’ve got speed.”
I was becoming supremely uncomfortable, and Winnie was starting to notice. She stopped her praise and fell silent for a few moments. When the other girls had cleared away and it was just the two of us again, she turned to me.
“Don’t let them make you feel bad about your swimming,” Winnie said seriously. “Don’t feel like you have to minimize your accomplishments to make them feel better about themselves. That is not what we’re here for.”
“I just don’t want to step on any toes.”
“Fuck that,” Winnie said brusquely. “You’re a talented swimmer and if they can’t handle that, then that’s their problem.”
“I just had a good day,” I said quietly.
Winnie looked at me sternly. “What did I tell you this morning?”
“Umm… a lot actually,” I said. “Mostly about dicks.”
Winnie tried to suppress the smile on her face but it peeked out a little at the corners. “I hate modesty.”
“Oh, that’s right.” I laughed.
“And for good reason,” Winnie went on. “Modesty doesn’t have any place in competitive sports. It takes ego to get you this far.”
“I prefer to think of it as confidence,” I said.
“Call it whatever you want,” Winnie said with a shrug. “Just don’t apologize for being good.”
Chapter Seven
Alan
“Just admit it, man,” Langdon said, pointing a long finger at me.
“Admit what?” I asked innocently.
Langdon stopped stretching and turned to me with an accusing look on his face. “I can understand you being secretive with someone
else… but me? I’m hurt.”
“It would take a lot more to hurt you,” I said snidely as I continued with my stretches, hoping that Langdon would drop the subject.
“I thought I was your best friend?” Langdon said, feigning disappointment.
“Best friend?” I repeated, rolling my eyes. “Are we in high school again or something?”
“Make fun all you want,” Langdon said, mocking me. “But some things never outgrow high school, like friendship, for example.”
I laughed. “You are so fucking cheesy.”
“Why, thank you,” Langdon said in usual form. “So, are you going to admit it or not?”
I sighed. “Why do you even care?”
“Because… this whole experience will be so much more fun if we can break the rules together, don’t you think?” Langdon said logically. “I want us to go on this ride together.”
“If I admit it, will you shut up?” I asked.
“Cross my heart,” Langdon replied, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Fine,” I said. “You were right. I was checking her out.
“Jessica Winters?”
“Yes.”
“I fucking knew it!” Langdon said, slamming his fist into the air.
I rolled my eyes at him and tried to continue with my stretching. “You are like a dog with a bone. It’s infuriating.”
“But effective,” Langdon replied with a coy smile. “In any case, I approve. She’s hot… but she also has this good-girl vibe about her. You know what that means, don’t you?”
“I don’t,” I replied. “But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“It means she’s probably a fireball in bed,” Langdon said with a salacious wink.
“How do you figure that?”
“Good girls have all this pent-up frustration built up inside them,” Langdon said in a serious voice, as though he were a professor in a lecture theatre. “They follow the rules and they rarely act up, which means they have all this reserve rebelliousness buried deep down inside them. And it only comes out in bed as wild, sexual deviancy.”
I guffawed with laughter. “And is this a proven theory?”
