SOPHIE BROOKS:
Party, hook-up, hangover, repeat.
I don't do rules, responsibility, or monogamy.
So when the chance to sleep with the hottest Olympian swimmer in the country presents itself, you can be damn sure I take it.
And sneak out before he wa...
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"Come on, Sennels!"
"Wuuuh, you can do it!"
"You're almost there!"
"You have him, Colton; come on!"
The yells are reverberating around the room, bouncing off the tiled walls, making it seem like there are way more people here than just the sixty or so swimmers and divers crowding the pool, cheering at the top of their lungs. I only catch about half of the encouraging words either directed at Colton or me because my head is under the water the other half of the time.
We only have fifty meters left. Today they lowered the wall, usually separating the fifty-meter-long pool into two sections so that we could compete in an actual Olympic-sized pool.
Our coaches decided that it would be good for the guys and me to have a 'real' practice run as a medley team, so they constructed another team out of four other male swimmers from U-M and made us compete against each other.
Soon, Mitch, Davis, Saltz, and I will have our first real medley relay, so this fake race is good practice. And as the last swim before Thanksgiving, it's the perfect time.
Saltz started out strong, but only with a slight lead in front of the other backcrawl swimmer. Davis kept up the small advantage, and of course, Mitch completely obliterated the other guy at butterfly. When I jumped in the water, we had a pretty solid lead.
So that brings us to now. Colton and I are locked in a battle of wills as we swim the best we have learned. Besides Kimmy and me, Colton is the best freestyle swimmer on the team, and right now, he's smoking my ass.
Fucking shit.
On the first lane, half the race, I managed to lose our team the entire lead we'd gained. Now I'm doing my very best to make up for it and failing miserably.
We throw our hands against the pool's edge, almost in sync. I'm a few hundreds of a second ahead of him, but that's it.
I glance up to find my team looking down at me, clapping along with the rest of the room, but all of them are wearing matching expressions.
Worry.
It's in the crease between Davis' brows, in the tight set of Mitch's lips, and in the uneasy look in Saltz's eyes.
We won, but not thanks to me, and next time, when we're competing against a real team - a team of guys who, like us, have had months to train together - my performance today won't be enough.
The other team is patting each other on the backs, looking slightly disappointed but secretly throwing looks my way, their curious gazes seeming to say; what happened to Jayden Sennels?
Yes, indeed. What the hell happened?
The rest of the people in the room break up, heading into the changing rooms, the divers finishing up their practice. In the commotion, I notice that Colton is still lingering in the water, too. He's already removed his cap and goggles. He knows that his team lost, but in the one-on-one competition between the two of us, he won. Big time. There's a smug look all over his face, his lips curling up into a smirk.
