Unexpecting You

Your eyes

Pitt's point of view

Three weeks were left before the competition would start. I had to train more and harder than I used to in order to break my own last year's record to preserve my position. One minute forty five seconds for a two hundred meters freestyle swimming, one minute fifty for a two hundred meters butterfly, twenty two seconds for the fifty meters freestyle, twenty four seconds for the fifty meters backstroke and forty eight for the one hundred meters butterfly. All of these laps were performed on a twenty five meters pool length and this year, the competition selected the same swimming styles.

The moment I hit these records last year, I became the target of any fellow swimmers, new or experienced wishing to break it as much as myself. And today, was another usual training day to perform better than I did last time. As I was swimming along the pool, he could hear Bob, my personal coach who was personally chosen by my father, shouting incomprehensible words for further motivation.

Bob was a former coach of a once well-known swimmer team who just split recently. He had remarkable brown skin and stood really tall however despite his corpulence, he had a heart of gold. He once lived in South Field until he received a call from the famous Christopher Nigel aka my dad, proposing him a job as personal coach. The guy said yes without any gleam of hesitation and packed his stuffs for Downtown Hill right away. Our first contact went as smooth as marble and ever since we really got along very fine. It's been now four years that he supervised my swimming sessions and contributed to my success. And this actual competition was no exception.

After three...two...one more laps of the two hundred meters freestyle, I finally reached the edge of the pool. Out of breath, I hold onto it for a moment as Bob stood in front of me, the timer in his hand.

"One minutes forty...eight" he stated, adding suspense to his words.

Still hardly regaining his breath, I took off my goggles and swim cap.

"That's way better than yesterday, but we still got a lot to improve." Bob pursued, squatting down on the edge of the pool in front of me.

"I grew old, Bob. I'm not fifteen anymore."

"Well, maybe you should retire then. It's not for your age anymore." he sarcastically replied.

"Ah...That's the only thing I can think about."

"Your father will kill you." Bob chuckled, aware that Pitt meant his words.

"He can't kill me twice. So, what's our deal?"

"First, you had a lag behind when you dived. If you dive after the gun shot..."

"...my chances to catch up with my opponents are slim. I know." I finished Bob's usual expression.

"Great. Remember, it's a swim competition not a marathon race. Water and air are two completely different elements."

"What's the other one?" I asked him, hooking on the edge.

"Your mind."

"What's with my mind?"

"You tell me? Your body is here but I feel like your mind is miles away from you."

I lowered the head briefly before looking aside. Bob was right. I was still mourning my grandmother and haven't recovered yet from my loss. I knew I couldn't let himself being drowned by my feelings, yet these were the only ones I actually had for the moment.

"We've done enough for today. Let's meet again tomorrow at nine." Bob stood up and and left. "Wanna go for ice creams? Oh sorry! You're too old for that." he teased me. Then right after, I got out of the pool and directed himself to the changing room.