Full Strength

Forty Three-Logan🏒

        "Can you do a breaststroke?" Lillian asked.

        I nodded, and she raised an eyebrow. So I took off down the pool, my hands slicing through the water. Swimming had become even more therapeutic now that I was allowed to kick my feet along with my strokes. 

        I came back down to the end of the pool where Lillian was still standing. Today she was in a swimsuit, swimming with me thanks to my new list of physical therapy I had. I'd already finished with all of my laps and strokes, meaning now she was probably going to have me do something more complicated.

        "Take a break, then we'll tread water. Four minutes."

        My eyes nearly popped out of my skull. "Four minutes? I don't know that I could do that even if I was in good condition."

        "I'll do it with you. For morale," she offered, setting her phone on the deck. The timer was set, looking very ominous.

        It was brutal. After the first two minutes, I found myself craning my neck to see how much time was left. Lillian wasn't doing much better, her face pinched with concentration. My legs and arms were burning. 

        Three minutes down. I felt like I was getting a headache, although I had no idea if that was possible for putting this much strain on my muscles. The warm water seemed to be drifting towards my neck, threatening to drown me if I couldn't hold on.

         Pain shot through my leg. I sank like a rock, barely standing on my other leg as I coughed on chlorinated water. Lillian was pulling me towards the edge of the pool in a flash, her arms hooked around my waist as she dragged me through the water. My lungs begged for fresh air as I choked on the water I'd swallowed. 

          "Throw up," Lillian ordered, pounding her fist against my back. I did, surprisingly, vomit coating the deck. Gross. 

         "Okay, breathe," she said, still holding me upright. I tried my hardest, and finally it felt like I was able take rattling breaths. My body shuddered violently as I started breathing again. Air, air, air. More air. Licking my lips, I tasted puke. Ugh. 

         "A little better?" Lillian murmured. I now realized just how much I was relying on her to stay afloat; she had her thigh beneath me as a seat, with her arms still tight around my lower torso to give my lungs room to expand.

         "Yeah," I said, trembling. "Wow. Thanks."

         "Yeah. How's your leg?"

         The pain had subsided, but it had lasted for a good five seconds. Easily enough to take me out of commission. "Better. Just a bad cramp or something. Maybe a pinched nerve," I coughed out, the last bit of water dribbling from my lips.

        "Let's get you resting," she said. "Are you good to walk?"

        "I think so," I said, gently standing on the bottom of the pool. There was no catastrophic explosion of my leg, so I figured it was a good sign. I waded over to the stairs and climbed out, with Lillian half an inch behind me for support.

        "Here," she said gently, wrapping a towel around my shoulders as I sat down on a lounge chair. 

        "Thanks," I said, my chest still heaving from a lack of oxygen. "Wow, I feel terrible."

        "Want to go inside or sit here for a minute?" she asked, pulling on her white lacy coverup. 

        "Sit, please," I coughed. My scrape with death should not have had me thinking how good she looked in barely any clothes.