Blindsided

Part 11

Bailey

My shoulders are aching, my lungs burning as I propel myself closer to the wall. With one last stretch, my hand slams into the wall, gulping a breath as my head breaks the water surface.

"Ooh, 28.6 Flores, 28.9 Whitlock. Don't slow down guys, we've still got another 3 to go." I groan, thrashing my hand against the sloshing water. I look across the lane rope, a sense of triumph splashed across Melanie's bright red cheeks. I clamber out of the pool, folding my body over so my hands are leaning on my knees. I take long, deep breaths, savouring every second of rest.

"Come on Whitlock, don't loose it now." I straighten up, placing my hands on my hips as my chest continues to heave. I nod, swallowing whatever it is that's stuck in my throat. "Keep it up Flores, you're doing well for the end of the session."

Because he's a complete psychopath, Coach decided at the end of the todays training session that he'd have myself and Mel sprint a bunch of 50 metre freestyles. 'To build up your strength and endurance' apparently. Because that's totally logical. Because my bones apparently aren't aching enough.

Melanie takes the Coach's words onboard, a small smile staying decorated on her face all while she's panting hard. She mirrors my stance, tugging a loose strand of hair into her cap as she continues to suck in air. She isn't watching me directly, but I can feel a small stare building from the corner of her eye. 

I know she's loving this. Beating me. Every bone in her body is cheering, egging her on more than ever. Because she knows she can beat me, hell even I know. I'm exhausted and in need of a life-long nap, and she's taking that as an opportunity. Although, I really do bring it on myself, with being cocky all the time. I've riled her up so often about being the faster one out of us two, so I know she'll exploit that any time she gets. Like right now.

"Try to catch up Whitlock. What was this about being the better swimmer?" she smirks, placing the rim of her goggles back over her eyes. 

"Oh, gloat all you like, but deep down, we both know who's better." I retort, readying myself for our next race.

"Yeah, it's spelt M-E-L-A-N-I-E."

"I don't think that's how you spell it."

"Why, did you never graduate from kindergarten?"

"I don't think you can fail kindergarten, unless you're talking from experience."

"Oh, and wouldn't you like to know?"

"Yes, so I could make fun of you all I like."

"Well, for your information, I've been a straight A's student for my entire life, something you'll never understand through your thick skull-"

"If you two are done shit-talking each other, can we get back to it?" Coach's voice cuts through our bickering, bringing me back to the present moment.

That's the thing with Melanie. I could completely forget that I'm anywhere when I'm around her. Day could change to night, blue clouds could change to dark grey, and I wouldn't probably notice. I get so drawn into everything she does, to the point where I'm unable to think about anything except the curves of her lips, the heat of her cheeks, or the glint in her eyes. 

And it scares me.

"Sorry Coach." We both mumble, stepping up onto the blocks. I take one last look at her, her arms hanging in front of her body. She's in the zone, staring down at the water below her. I return to my own lane, shaking my head, as if that will help me get her out of my head. 

"Alright... Take you marks... GO!" I jump off of the block, pulling my hands behind me ears as I push into a streamline. My body falls into the water, my feet following after my hands like I'm diving into a small, circular pond. I pump my arms in and out of the water, only breathing once before my turn. I flip myself over, planting my feet against the world as I push off it, pumping my legs again once I break the waters surface. My lungs are screaming at me as I reach the way calling my name, my shoulders feeling like massive boulders. I haven't been watching Melanie for the entire 50 metres, as I know it would only distract me further. I reach my hand out, closing the gap between myself and the wall.