[Alice Hatfield]

Sink or swim.

These three words have been echoing in my mind since I entered the pool with the rest of the squad. I know, the last thing I should think of is whether Dad or Kyle will come and watch my race. On the other hand, however, maybe not seeing either among the audience can be a good thing. It'd help me to stay focused, or this is what they think.

Coach Mayberry is giving the other girls instructions for their own competition, all while I'm all alone, by my locker, checking my bag and making sure that I didn't forget anything. Swimming costume, towel, headset, flip flops, goggles, wallet, clean clothes... Everything seems to be in point.

I'm about to take my phone from the front pocket when I realize that I forgot it at home! Crap! Now how am I supposed to check on Dad to make sure that he's coming?

Oh, never mind.

Coach has just called me, a stern expression plastered on her face. She eyes me, trying to catch my nervous glimpse. I'm under the impression that she may take out her frustration on me; yet, I don't believe she'll lose her composure shortly before a competition as important as this.

"Okay, Alice, remember. You're going to compete in the 500m freestyle category. I expect you to bring your A-game, of course," she says, grinning at me but somehow failing to detect my sense of uneasiness. She goes on, much to my relief. "Don't forget that endurance is more important than speed in this kind of contests. And make sure to keep up your pace and your breath, okay?"

I nod, gulping as I struggle to repress my anxiety. Okay, perhaps this isn't exactly the most appropriate term, but I have kind of a similar feeling. Hopefully, I won't have to worry too much about how the competition goes on. Well, unless I make such a poor figure that may cost my place in the squad.

Knowing that I don't even have my phone for listening to music to ease the tension, I try to find other means to keep calm. And, no, pacing back and forth in the locker room is not a solution. It'd only make things worse.

As the first competition starts, I lean on the lockers as I sit on the floor and close my eyes, trying to imagine myself in a desert island with nothing left. I try to imagine myself swimming for survival, in order to escape that barren place and possibly looking for help.

However, it doesn't make things any better; instead, it only makes me more anxious. So, no more desert islands and swimming for survival. What about trying to imagine myself at a pool party?

It would actually be cool, and I'd prove everyone that I'm a good swimmer and I can also be helpful. Swimming can come handy when it comes to saving drunken people on the verge of sinking after diving in recklessly. However, I'm not always supposed to save everyone's sorry asses for their own sake. Oh, come on!

I guess this isn't helping me to get rid of tension either. I need a backup plan, and quickly, before it's my turn swimming. As  I close my eyes once more and imagine myself under the sea, gliding beneath waves with fish of every kind, I'm abruptly waken by someone tapping my shoulders.

"Alice, come on, it's almost your turn. Let's go."

As I'm brought back to reality, I realize that Lisa is already done with her competition. Unfortunately, neither she nor the other girls were able to qualify for the podium in any category. This means that all the pressure is solely on me. How the heck am I supposed to win it for something I've never competed for in my life? 500m freestyle are tough, and, no, I'm not joking.

When I reach the pools, the announcer is calling my name. I guess it's now or never. This is the chance that can make or break my future in the squad. I can't mess it up. I mustn't fail.

As I take my stance at Row 8, the last one from left, I look in front of me, ignoring everyone else. I don't care about the sideways glances, the cheers and the applause. There's only one thing separating me from the end line. A huge mass of water filled with chlorine.

***

The last fifty meters are hell. After trying to measure my heartbeat, control my breath, make sure that my pace is regular and that I didn't waste energy uselessly before the end line, I can't ruin everything. Currently, I'm standing at fifth place but I still have chances to finish in the top three, although they're very slim.

I know, it's almost impossible, but I can't fail. For Coach Mayberry. For the squad. For my family. For myself. Who thinks I'm giving up is in for an unpleasant surprise. I'm alive. I'm fighting. I'm not going to back off, not after putting so much effort.

This is why, when I swim those last fifty meters, the only thing I think of is that the finish line is there, and that no-one else is waiting for me.

I finish in third place, earning another bronze medal. It might be of little consolation for Coach, who is disappointed that the others failed to win anything, but it's a great achievement for me. I've never thought that this could be a great way to start overcoming my limits.

However, as much as I enjoy winning such a tough competition, I hope I'll be able to switch back to 50 and 100m soon. Well, not that I'm not going to swim 500m ever again; I'd just rather not do it in the near future, and not for competition purposes.

***

As I get off the podium and am ready to go back to the lockers to change, I'm stopped by someone who's grabbing my hand. "Alice, can we talk, please?"

I try to let go of the hand, annoyed that this person is making me waste precious time to have a decent shower and change, but I'm shocked when, as I turn back, I find Kyle. "K-Kyle? Have you w-watched m-me?"

I'm even more shocked when he doesn't make fun of me. Yes, I expected him to do so. After all, he looks like the typical Mr. Perfection; except, he brags a lot more than the typical Mr. Perfection. But why do I have to make a fool out of myself when he's next to me? Come on, Alice, get it together!

He grins. "Well, let me tell you, you were impressive out there. However, I'm here to talk you about something more serious," he explains, after which I regain my composure.

"Okay, what is it about?" I ask, letting out an annoyed scoff. He doesn't seem very interested in my reaction, though.

"It's about the project... and the two of us." He corrects himself as he realizes that I'm looking away. "Okay, mostly about the project. But I'll let you change first, okay?"

Thankful that he's just given me some space, I head to the locker room, take a quick cold shower and then put on my backup clothes in a rush, wanting to catch up on Kyle before he goes.

As he's at the entrance, I approach him confidently. "Let's go, shall we?" I prompt, only to realize that I don't know where we're exactly headed to.

He takes me away without letting me ask about where we're going or telling Dad.