Swimming back to you

chapter 7.

The sun was just starting to rise as I parked my car and headed into the sports academy. The early morning chill nipped at my skin, but the thought of diving into the pool and letting the water wake me up kept me moving forward. After yesterday's back-and-forth at the office, I needed this—the calm, the routine, and the solitude that swimming always brought me.

The locker room was quiet, with only a few swimmers already getting ready. There was something about the early hours, the stillness, that made this time feel like it belonged to me alone.

I wrapped my towel around my shoulders and headed out to the pool deck. The water was shimmering under the fluorescent lights, calling to me like a siren's song. The chatter of other swimmers, the smell of chlorine—it all felt so familiar, so comforting. This was my sanctuary.

The coach's whistle broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to the surface. He was pacing the pool deck, his eyes scanning the swimmers with his usual intensity. "Alright, everyone! Let's focus on form today. We've got a competition coming up, and I want to see everyone pushing themselves."

I nodded to myself, determination settling in my chest. I'd committed to this competition, and I wasn't about to back down now.

As I swam, I could feel the familiar burn in my muscles, the steady rhythm of my breathing, the water flowing over my skin. I lost myself in the repetition, each lap blending into the next. It was meditative, in a way. A break from everything outside the pool.

But, of course, nothing stays peaceful for long. During one of my turns, I caught sight of Austin at the far end of the pool, chatting with the coach. My stroke faltered slightly, annoyance prickling at the back of my mind. Even here, he found a way to be in my space.

I focused on my technique, trying to drown out the thought of him. But as I finished my lap, I noticed him standing at the edge, grinning down at me.

"Looking strong, Maggi," he said, his voice dripping with that familiar teasing tone.

I rolled my eyes. "You really don't quit, do you?"

"Not when it comes to you," he replied, the grin never leaving his face.

"I've got work to do, Austin. Some of us take this seriously."

"Hey, I'm serious too," he said, holding up his hands in mock defense. "I'm just trying to keep things light."

"Well, light doesn't win competitions," I shot back.

Austin leaned in with a smirk. "Let me help you then. I am your senior, after all."

I raised an eyebrow at him, clearly irritated. "Senior in what, exactly?"

"In swimming," he said, his grin widening as he shrugged off my attitude. Without waiting for a response, he jumped into the pool beside me, the water splashing up as he surfaced with that same confident smile. "Your arms are sticking too close to your chest when you do your breaststroke. You need to let them extend more."

I crossed my arms, skeptical but curious. "Really? That's what you've got?"

He nodded seriously, for once. "Yeah. Watch." He demonstrated a perfect breaststroke, his arms moving fluidly through the water. "See? Like this. Now, you try."

I sighed, giving in. I wasn't one to refuse a chance to improve, even if it meant listening to Austin. I got back into the pool and attempted the stroke with his advice in mind, but the look on his face told me I hadn't quite nailed it.

"No, no, not like that," he said, swimming over to me. His tone was more patient than I expected. "May I?" he asked, his hands hovering near my arms.

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Sure."