Shadows of Yesterday

Chapter 16: The Sports Version of a Health Insurance Speedrun

I'd forgotten how much pools echoed. Every shout, every blow of the whistle, every hit on the ball--everything was turned up to eleven in a place like this. Not to mention the nauseating smell of chlorine. The oppressive humidity that made every surface feel sticky and wet.

No wonder Kat hated coming to these things alone.

Most of the swimming I'd done in the past five years had happened during family vacations with Aunt Jane, Uncle Mark, and their family--surrounded by sand, open air, and saltwater. I hadn't been to a pool in ages--a fact that probably would've horrified Mat if he knew. Liam, too. They practically lived in the water.

I hadn't been sure this morning what I was supposed to wear to this game, since I'd never been to a water sports event before. I almost asked if there were jerseys I was supposed to wear, but then I remembered it was called water polo for a reason. 

Y'know. Cause they're in the water. Swimming.

Yeah. I felt really stupid after that.

After much deliberation, I'd settled on jeans and a simple red crop top. I'd tried to wear shorts, but evidently, "Hey, Ben, if you really want us all to do laundry together, make sure these stay separate," actually translated to "Hey, Ben, I really need some new doll clothes. Do you think you could just throw these in there real quick; make it easy?"

I'd managed to throw them on just in time for Kat to pick me up... two hours early for school. Apparently, Declan and Ben were both "too busy" to drive me today, and my parents were, well, my parents. So we both had to sit there, slowly melting into the seating by the pool for two hours while we waited for Mat, and now, we had to wait again after school for the actual game to start.

I was convinced I was going to die of heatstroke before then. If Kat's face was any indication, she was on the same page.

Mat, you are so lucky we care about you, I mentally grumbled.

I chose to ignore the automatic addition my brain tried to make in order to remind me that I was actually here for two people, technically speaking.

Liam wasn't my friend. Yet. He just happened to be on the same team.

Since Kat was absorbed doing her Personal Finance homework like the responsible human I wasn't, I was stuck finding my own entertainment. I watched the team warming up for the game with mild impatience, trying to ignore the way my jeans were wetly clinging to my legs like Saran Wrap.

Mat was being very Mat about it, goofing around in between exercises and generally ignoring the fact that he was about to be in an actual competition. Liam appeared to be taking it more seriously, but only barely. Somehow, though, I knew that they would still manage to be the best players on the team. Liam had always been annoyingly talented that way.

After what felt like an eternity, the whistle finally blew to start the game, and I immediately decided that there was no amount of underwater grace that could make this sport look any less like volleyball's wet, angry cousin. The players surged through the water with a precision I hadn't known was possible in a surface so sloshy. I tried to pay attention to Mat--aka the person I was there for--but I had been right: Liam was a natural. He seemed to be exactly where he was needed every time and made it look effortless. It made it difficult not to watch him, and for some reason, that made me mad. 

Getting angry at someone for being talented made me feel immature, and because I apparently did, in fact, possess the brain of an actual child, that only pissed me off more. What kind of person gets into a hissy fit because someone they know is good at things?