Dirty Fraud

by Eden Beck

  And I think they’ll find that they knew me all along.

  There’s an immediate problem with my plan, however. I find it standing at the base of the stairs where the results of all the recent tryouts have been posted—and it’s that I missed every single one of them.

  “Ah well,” Dana says, shrugging her bag back up higher on her shoulder. “You could probably use the time to study anyway.”

  “No!” I say, and then quickly back off because I know it sounds way more aggressive than I meant. “Only … I really think this is going to help. There has to be something …” I trail off, one finger running down the lists of rosters. Wills is on nearly every one of them. I have no idea where he finds time for it all.

  No wonder he struggles with math, I think, where does he find any time to study?

  That’s when I see it.

  Swim team.

  I remember something I overheard Wills saying about it, and immediately jot down the name of the swim coach and tell Dana I’ll catch up with her later. The coach is surprised to see me, but he admits that they still have a couple spots open that they can’t seem to fill now that they moved to the winter season.

  I don’t even know what that means, but I sign up anyway. He just seems glad to have a spot filled, even if he does look at me a little funny when I tell him I haven’t gone swimming since I was … jeez … must be seven or eight years now. The closest thing I’ve gotten is nearly drowning in that sailboat accident last year, but even then it can hardly count. I was wearing a lifejacket at the time, and the way the waves were sloshing me around, it was more like floundering than swimming.

  I just hope come Monday, I find out swimming is like riding a bicycle and you never really do forget.

  This is my way back in. Wills might be able to ignore me outside, but he’s going to have to talk to me if I’m on his team. If there’s one thing he takes seriously, more seriously possibly even than Astor, it’s sports.

  It won’t matter what I did last year, when we are in the pool or at a meet, I am his responsibility, I am his teammate, and I know that he is going to put that above all else. He is truer to that than he is to Astor, or at least, that’s what I’m counting on.

  Now that it’s on my mind, Monday can’t come soon enough. Even though Dana and I spend the weekend studying for the SAT test I have coming up, in the back of my mind I am focused on Wills and the chance I might have to be close to him again. I still haven’t made up my mind on how to get to the other two, but if I can get to Wills … I’m sure the rest will fall into place.

  I head straight to the pool as soon as my last class is over on Monday. It takes everything in me not to get caught staring at Wills in class all day. I’m trying to gauge his mood, any possible reaction he might have towards me … but it’s hopeless. He’s unreadable here. This isn’t his element, but soon it will be.

  I’m in my suit, ready and waiting for everyone else when the rest of the team shows up at the swimming pool. I see Wills as he walks through the door and his gaze shifts to see me standing there in my swimsuit. He stops mid-step for a moment and stares at me, his mouth opening partway. He’s confused, and then frustrated, but still he says nothing.

  My heart sinks as he walks straight into the locker rooms without a single word to me, or another glance at all.

  I try to sit and listen as the coach tries, and fails quite miserably, to introduce me to the rest of the team. I’m the butt of several dead-pan looks, but fortunately, he doesn’t seem to notice. Or if he does, he certainly doesn’t care.

  Wills doesn’t come back out until we start swimming drills. His face is stony, but focused—and though he talks to and interacts with everyone else on the team, he refuses to look at me.

  I don’t know what I expected. I should have known he wasn’t going to suddenly start talking to me just because I threw on an unflattering one-piece and started swimming laps with the rest of his team.

  But I remember another time he treated me like this and I’m not ready to give up. I just have to try harder.

  We go through a practice, and I haven’t ever been on a swim team before, but I give it my best and the coach tells us that we have a lot of work to do to get to the level that the team was at last year. I know the coach is avoiding looking straight at me, but I know I’m part of the dead weight dragging everyone down. I’m doing surprisingly well, but nothing compared to these other swimmers who’ve been doing this for years. And certainly not anything like Wills.

  If he wasn’t already filthy rich, he could easily get a swimming scholarship to any school of his choosing. He could probably go to the Olympics … if he wasn’t spreading himself out over every sport this school has to offer.

  I don’t need to go to the Olympics. I just need to get Wills to speak to me.

  Civilly preferably, but I’ll take what I can get at this point. It sounds pathetic, even to myself … but I’ve seen where pride will get me, and it doesn’t include them.

  This pattern goes on for several days. By the end of my first week on the swim team, my hair has started to take on a greenish tint to the bleached ends—but I don’t care so much as the fact that somehow, despite everything, Wills has still managed to avoid having to talk directly to me this entire time.

  At first, the other members of the swim team were quiet, but they at least acknowledged me. Each day when I leave the pool, they grow a little warmer towards me. They’ve seen me sneaking in early and practicing, and my times are showing that. I’ve improved—not by much—but it’s something. Their approval, be it just wordless nods in my direction, feels like a small accomplishment.

  Between this and my other two clubs, I’m really starting to feel like I’m fitting back in.

  On Friday, I am just about to walk out of the door after practice when I practically walk into Wills. I was about to chalk this whole week up as a miss in that department, but as soon as I look up at him, I know this isn’t an accident.

  He’s waiting for me. My heart skips several beats and I draw in a quick breath, trying to steady myself.

  “Hey, Wills,” I say with a tentative smile on my face.

  He glares back. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  I blink and stare at him. “What are you talking about?”

  He leans close to me and points to the pool behind me. “This is my turf. Every field in this school is my turf. I told you that when you started last year. It doesn’t matter if the turf is water or field or court; it’s mine. Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing joining the swim team?”

  I know he’s angry with me, but I can’t stop my heart from lurching in my chest. Letting on that this only makes me excited and supremely, irrationally happy, will only make him angrier—so I pretend to match his ire.

  I just my chin out and try to look grave. “I can’t help it that you’re on literally all the teams, William,” I say. He looks shocked at my use of his full name, and I feel a little wrong saying it myself, but it serves its purpose. He’s thrown off, and I continue. “I need a sport to get into a good college. To maybe get into a good college.”

  Wills is shaking his head. “That’s not good enough. This is my team. I won’t have you on it.”

  I get it. I invaded his space, and he’s mad at me about it, but I don’t care if he’s mad. This is half the point. He can’t avoid me here, anymore, and he knows it.

  “I’m not going anywhere. You can talk to the coach all you like, but I doubt he’ll kick me off unless you can swim for the girl’s events too.” I step up closer, until I can feel my own breath hot on his face. “So, you can accept me as your teammate, or you can quit the team. Do what you like … but I’m not leaving.”

  With that I turn around and walk through the door, and Wills stands behind me, staring at me as I go.

  Chapter 9

  The next time we have practice, I’m surprised and more than a little suspicious to see Victoria in the locker room. She’s chatting with one o
f the other girls on the swim team, and I see her holding my swim cap in her hands. Well that explains the green hair. She’s probably been messing with it since day one, making sure the chlorine gets up and under it so I’ll look like a witch before long.

  Well jokes on her. I’ve decided to embrace my green hair. Not that anyone other than Dana or I is looking these days.

  I walk straight up to her and hold my hand out. I’m not at all worried about offending her; she and I divorced our friendship last year in a very permanent way.

  “What are you doing with my swim cap, Victoria?” I ask coolly. “It wouldn’t fit you; your head is too big.”

  She narrows her eyes at me and gives me an evil smile. “Nothing. I was just coming to visit and wondered what it was.” She laughs and struts out of the locker room like she owns it.

  Victoria disgusts me, but this is my place and my time, and I’m not going to let her get into my head and put me in a funk. I have a new time to reach for in the pool, and I’m going to do that today.

  I put my suit on and take a quick shower. When I come back to my locker, one of the other girls on my team, Denise, is upset and looking through her bag madly. She’s one of the girls who has been warming up to me since I joined, so I ask her if there’s something I can do to help.

  She sighs and knits her brow in frustration. “I rushed here so fast today that I forgot my goggles and my swim cap. She drops her bag on the bench before us and plants her hands on her hips, looking up at the ceiling.

  “Well, I don’t have goggles, but I would be more than happy to loan you my swim cap,” I say. I look at her thick head of dark curls. “It’s not going to keep the water out, obviously,” I say, gesturing up to my own tinged locks, “But it’ll keep it out of the way.”

  She looks at me like I just handed her a lottery ticket.

  “Really? Oh my gosh, that would be amazing.” She tells me she gets real bad swimmer’s ear if she doesn’t wear one, and wastes no time pulling it on over her head and beaming at me gratefully.

  We start diving in and swimming our laps, until, after several times around, I spot Astor, Victoria, and Blair sitting on the bleachers beside the pool. Victoria looks mad about something, but she always looks mad at me, so it’s nothing new.

  We aren’t more than five or six minutes in the water when Denise hurries out of the pool screaming, and yanks the swim cap I loaned her off of her head. I’m at the opposite end of the pool, so by the time I climb out of the water on the other side, she’s already surrounded by most of the rest of the team.

  She’s screaming and pulling fistfuls of hair from her skull, her eyes wide and unbelieving. The loaned swim cap lays on the ground, a suspicious white substance oozing from the inside. Another girl spots it and sniffs it between two fingers.

  “It’s hair remover. Why the heck did you put it in your swim cap?”

  Denise’s breaths have grown ragged, and it looks like she might be about to have a panic attack. She still isn’t believing what she’s seeing.

  Meanwhile, I catch Victoria making a swift exit from the pool hall out of the corner of my eye. That’s right bitch, didn’t play out according to your plan, did it?

  I’m not the only one who notices. While most eyes are on Denise, Wills sees her too and he looks from her, to me, and then to Denise. He clenches his jaw.

  “This isn’t mine. It’s Teddy’s,” Denise says, looking over at me blankly. “Did you … why did you do this?”

  I’m all geared up to defend myself, certain no one is going to believe me—when a miracle happens.

  A new girl, a freshman who doesn’t fear Victoria, pipes up. “There was someone else in the locker room before, and she had it.” She points over to the bleachers. “She was sitting just over there a minute ago. The one with the dark hair?” She mimes Victoria’s long, flowing locks perfectly.

  A couple of the other girls exchange looks, and the muscle in Wills’ jaw only clenches harder.

  “It doesn’t matter who it was!” Denise cries out. “Look at my hair! What am I going to do?”

  I take her into the locker room, and she goes to shampoo her head and clean it as best she can. The damage is splotchy; there are chunks of her hair missing here and there, but it’s not a total loss. I tell her that we can figure out how to style around it until it grows back. Luckily her hair is thick enough that no one will be able to tell with a little creative bobby-pin work—and that’s coming from someone who barely knows how to straighten her own hair.

  It isn’t until she’s started to calm down that I’m able to fully realize my own fury towards Victoria. She meant it for me, which was bad enough … but someone else got hurt in the process. This can’t look good for her. Even Wills and Blair, maybe even Astor, have to be able to see that.

  Wills is gone when we come out of the locker room, but I know he saw and heard what happened. This might be the first time his group of close friends has interfered with his team, and that’s a Venn diagram of boundary crossing. It leaves me curious wondering to which side his loyalties will be strongest. Victoria might have actually just did me a huge favor … not that I’m going to be admitting that to anyone anytime soon.

  After all, I’m not a psychopath. I think.

  I head up to the room, and Dana and I get to work studying for this weekend’s SATs again as soon as I relay the story to her. I can’t let my grades start slipping, or she’ll figure out what I’m up to. I can’t have her sound and logical judgement undermining the crazy thing I’m trying to do.

  Shit. Maybe I’m the sociopath.

  Studying makes up the majority of my spare time these days … at least when I’m not sitting in on the drama club, out shooting photographs around the school campus, swimming and practicing to shorten my times in the lanes at the pool, or going to class and doing homework. Hopefully, if I do well enough on this test, I’ll have a little more space to breathe.

  I’m ready, but not exactly confident, when the day actually comes. Dana makes up for what I lack in pre-game pep talks.

  I’m all jitters, especially when I spot Wills inside at one of the desks. He’s leaning back in his chair trying to look nonchalant, but I know him better than that. His hand is tapping his pencil in that way he does when he’s struggling at a math problem, and his eyes are glued to the clock like he simultaneously dreads the start of the test and also can’t wait for it to be over.

  I frown and I can’t look away from my boy. “Why is Wills here?” I ask, not really listening to Dana. I wasn’t expecting any of my holy trinity to need to take the test, certainly not alongside the rest of us who are only here because we did so poorly the first time. Or, like me, skipped out on it altogether.

  Dana raises a brow slightly, with no real interest. “Does it matter?”

  “No,” I say, hastily. “I guess not.”

  I nod as if I’m not really interested anyway, which is about the furthest thing from the truth.

  I turn and look at Dana. “Okay. I’m ready. I’ll see you on the other side.”

  “Yes, you are.” She grins at me. “Okay. Celebration after. Go team!”

  I take a seat and give Wills a smile when he glances over at me. I wish him luck, but he just turns his head away and looks down at his scratch paper.

  I sigh and turn to my own. I was so sure that being on the swim team would give me a way back into his good graces, but he’s staying true to Astor, and it just kills me. It seems like no matter how I try, or what I do, it’s just not enough to break through the wall they’ve all put up between themselves and me. Even Blair’s given up trying to convince me to be his secret part-time lover. Every time I look at him, it’s like the memory of us together just slips further, and further away until it doesn’t seem like a memory at all, but just a dream.

  I’ve been trying to get through that wall, but if I don’t find a way soon, I feel like I might as well just give up.

  The clock starts and we begin the test. At first I’m doing well.
I’m concentrating on it, and I know the answers. I ignore the clock and focus on each part of it, just like Dana has told me to do. I feel good about it, and I’m going through it pretty fast, but then I hear Wills get frustrated, and I shoot him a glance. I can see that he’s struggling, and I wish I could help him.

  I shouldn’t have been so surprised to see him here. I worked with him in math for a significant part of last year … and needless to say, I know he needs this as much as I do. Money can only get you so far.

  I go back to my own test, but my mind is wandering to other things; to Wills, to his test, to his attempts to get into Columbia. With Astor and Blair going there as well, it isn’t long before my mind starts to wander. I’ve just started to wonder if there’s even the slightest chance I could get in there too, when suddenly the bell goes off overhead, and I look up in a panic.

  I swear there was another half hour left on the essay portion. Where did the time go?

  I look back down at the test. I can’t remember filling in half of the booklet. I was so lost in thought about the boys and the future, and finding a way back to them that I totally blew my SAT. With my heart thudding hard in me, I take my test to the proctor, and then walk woodenly out of the classroom.

  There’s one thing for sure. I scored abysmally. I’m not even going to get into community college at this point.

  Dana is waiting dutifully outside, but her excitement quickly fades as soon as she spots me.

  I just shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  She stares at me in wonder. “Why? What happened? Did you freeze up?”

  I can’t tell her. “Dana, I’m so sorry. We’ve been studying so much since we came back, and you’ve done everything to help me, and I just ruined it. I did. My mind drifted and I lost my focus, and it all just … it all just went away! What am I going to do?”

  I feel sick to my stomach. I’ve failed tests before, but never something like this. I worked way too hard to just … space out and fail like this.