“What?”
“Are your shoulders okay? You look like you’re in pain.”
They were killing me. “No. I mean, yes, they’re fine. I’m just trying to get in the zone.”
“You don’t want to ice them for a little while? You probably have twenty minutes before you need to warm up for your next swim.”
“Yes, I should go sit in the office for a little while.” Out of sight, out of mind. That’s how I hoped it would work.
He walked with me toward the building. “You’ve been swimming great today.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re definitely on track for a scholarship.”
“I hope so.”
We arrived at the office, and he strapped a bag of ice onto each shoulder. The cold seeped into my skin and I relaxed a bit.
“I guess they were tighter than I thought. Thank you, DJ . . . DJ . . . What does that stand for?” I laid my cheek on one of my shoulders, letting the ice cool my cheeks that seemed to be a little warm now too.
“Let’s just say that I go by DJ for a reason.”
“A name you don’t like, then? If I guess, will you tell me?”
“You won’t guess.”
“Dwayne?”
“Did someone tell you?”
“No. Is that it? Did I really guess it on the first try?”
“Someone told you.”
“No, I swear.”
He shook his head with a smile. “You’re just good at everything you do, huh?”
The ice didn’t keep my cheeks from blushing.
“It’s my father’s name and his father’s.”
“And what about the J?”
“I’m sure you already know that one too.”
“I don’t,” I said.
“Jeremy.”
“Dwayne Jeremy. It kind of rolls off the tongue.”
He laughed. “Right? It really doesn’t. That’s why I’ve gone by DJ forever.”
“Well, your secret is safe with me.”
He held my eyes for a moment, like I’d said something significant. Had I?
His gaze dropped to the floor, and he changed the subject. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as wound up before a race as you were a few minutes ago.”
“Just a little distracted.” And I thought I’d be less distracted away from everything, but back here I was worried I’d miss the race. “I better get out there.”
We walked side by side to the pool. My gaze immediately went to the stands. Not only was Jackson still sitting by my dad, who was laughing, but on his other side was my mom. I thought she’d left after my first two races but she was back in her seat, no phone in sight, full attention on Jackson. They looked like a perfect little family. It was like I’d been transported back twenty years and was getting a glimpse of exactly what it had been like. What they’d lost.
“You okay?”
I was gripping DJ’s arm. He might’ve been the only thing keeping me upright. “I’m fine. Good. Perfect.”
Where was Amelia? I needed Amelia. I scanned the deck and saw her sitting on the side, staring at me . . . and DJ. I dropped his arm. “Thanks for the ice,” I said, then made my way to her, weaving through Speedo-clad guys and coaches holding clipboards. When I reached her, I sat down with a sigh.
“I didn’t realize your shoulders were bothering you.”
“Yeah.”
She poked at the ice. “Or did you just need an excuse to see DJ?”
“What? No. I needed to get out of here. Do you see my parents?”
She looked. “What about them?”
“That’s Jackson.”
“Oh yeah. It is. Weird.”
“What if my dad tells him about my brother? The truck?”
She shrugged. “Then you wouldn’t have to.”
“Don’t you think my parents look happy up there?”
“Your parents always look happy.”
She wasn’t getting it. Not that she should’ve. I hadn’t filled her in on what my dad had said. But seeing her reaction made me think that maybe I was overreacting. Yes, I was overreacting. Especially right now, before a race, before the relay where three other girls would be depending on me to have my head on straight.
“Do you like DJ?”
I ripped my gaze away from my parents. “What?”
“DJ. Do you like him?”
I shook my head. “No. Not at all. You still like him, right?”
“Yes. A lot. And I really don’t want to have to compete against you.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean, every boy you give the tiniest amount of attention to falls at your feet.”
That was so untrue, I didn’t even know where it was coming from. “Like who?”
“DJ.”
“He was just icing my shoulders.”
“Robert.” She pointed to the stands and I looked up and saw that he too was up there, watching the meet. He wasn’t here for me. Luke was on the swim team. He was here for Luke.
“He broke up with me, in case you forgot.”
“Jackson.”
“The guy who is single-handedly trying to drive me crazy?”
“Heath Hall.”
My mouth dropped open. “Heath Hall? He’s not even real.” I took her by the shoulders. “Amelia, if those are your only examples, then I reject your statement. None of those guys are anywhere close to falling at my feet.” I looked her straight in the eyes. “I promise I don’t like DJ. He’s all yours.”
She smiled and hugged me. “I’m sorry. I just get so jealous.”
“I know.”
She shoved me away with a laugh. “You love me anyway.”
“Always.”
A whistle blew by the timing table. “Let’s get your shoulder pads off. It’s time to swim a relay.”
Amelia swam the best relay of her life. I swam the worst of mine.
Eighteen
I tried to forget about the awful swim. About the way everyone congratulated me like it wasn’t an awful swim. About how Coach didn’t even mention it. About how my shoulders hurt so bad that I feared I wouldn’t be able to swim for a week. It was over. The season was over. There was nothing I could do about it now, so I wasn’t going to dwell on it.
I was also trying to avoid my parents. I didn’t need to hear from Mom that she agreed with my dad about Jackson. So I shrugged off an after-swim celebration, claiming exhaustion, and had been holed up in my room ever since.
Now I was showered and dressed, with ten minutes to spare before Amelia picked me up for the Heath Hall event. And even though he wasn’t real, as I had stated very confidently to Amelia earlier that day, and even though he was probably already on his way to the bridge, I found myself on the computer again typing out a message.
Good luck tonight.
I was surprised when he quickly replied, Are you going?
Of course.
It’s nice to have support when facing fears.
So this was about a fear. He was afraid to bungee jump. Don’t you always? It seems like these things are pretty packed.
Not always. Sometimes it’s something that needs to be done alone.