Underwater

Chapter 1

What feels like a hundred eyes, beady with judgement, are on me. Okay, maybe it's only 30 or so but with the way my life has played out these past few years, anyone noticing me is dangerous territory. The swimmers all take me in through their mirrored goggles. I'm the new girl, this is how it goes, I understand. But I'm not new, in fact I've known most of these kids since our floaty days. I know the eyes aren't judgement as much curiosity, the rumors that circulated after I left ranged from absurd to spot on. But no one knows that, I'm the mystery girl. My skin itches and I shift uncomfortably.
"For those of you who don't know, this is Ricki St.James. She took a break for a few years," I hear Mike's voice get tighter and I sigh heavily, "but she's back now."
He claps my shoulder and I flip my own cap as the ogling eyes finally break away to finish their set and fly into a fit of frenzied gossip.
"I know this is hard, Saint, so we can take it as slow as you'd-" "Mike?" I cut my coach off quickly. He pauses, annoyed but waiting for me to continue.
"Kick the crap out of me. Need to make up for lost time, right?" I toss a small grin with it and snap on my goggles.
He smiles big, and puts his mitt of a hand on my head, shaking it "I've missed you, Saint."
"Ditto, Mike" I answer quietly, nodding in recognition of our familiar banter but also in acknowledgement of his support. It was something I fell extremely short on as of late. I turn back to the pool. I know I'll never be the same as I was back then, at my peak of fitness and glory, but I still love swimming and I want to try. This isn't just for Dad anymore, this is for me. I need something good and whole again. So I dive in.
I wring out my hair with some shitty, yellow, beach towel Aunt Del has probably had since Dad and her were kids. "Good Job today, Rick, I'll be watching out for you" Camilla nudges me with a kind smile as she walks out with Rinny and Mac. "See ya tomorrow Ricki!" They call as they walk away. I wave in response and start to pull my hair up into a topknot. I missed the simple bond of the team and how no one expects you to say anything, you just are all comfortable in each other's presence, even if all you're talking about is the weather. They know when to keep quiet, I appreciate that.
"How'd it feel?" Jax smiles as he slings his mesh, equipment bag over his shoulder.
"I don't know, it was good" I shrug, gathering up my towel and shoving it into my swim bag.
"Your stroke looked phenomenal, it's like you never left! I'm sure you'll give Bex a run for her money" he chuckles, leaning against the pole as he waits for me. I pull on my joggers, a meet sweatshirt, and my parka then look up at him quizzically while I tie my Nike Flyknit's.
"Yeah, Bexley Conrad. She came about two years ago. She's been trying to break your butterfly records since her first meet." He nods his head in the direction of a stunning platinum blonde that is the epitome of California girl. She's looking in my direction, straight at me. Thud. My foot slips off the chair as I jolt in surprise and she smirks.
"Jesus Christ, Rick, are you okay?" Jax reaches out and pulls me up. Jax is my height, all skin and bones though. He's got that cute, nerdy thing going on with his straight black hair, his awkward smile, and his square glasses that are always clumsily shoved on his nose after practice.
"Why is she staring at me?" I whisper, my heart pounding. I trust no one anymore, especially some intimidatory girl named Bexley.
"Oh, she's figuring you out. She does it to everyone. Although, I have to admit this time it's slightly creepier" he turns back, adjusting his glasses and flipping Bexley the bird. She smirks again and reciprocates the gesture while she simultaneously flips her perfectly straight hair over her shoulder, scooping up her equipment and walking out with a few other girls and a younger boy who trots to keep up with them.
"She's really pretty isn't she?" Jax smiles goofily and I can't help but laugh. "Yeah, Jax, she is."
We head out of the aquatic complex to the parking lot. The pool is positioned in a valley in the hills of inner Carlsbad, a couple miles from the beach.
"I'm right here", I motion to the Audi my aunt convinced me to purchase myself with the thousands of dollars I got from Mom's life insurance policy. In fact I got enough to buy me ten Audi's, but I need money for college and for living independently since I don't plan on staying in Aunt Del's run down little home for the rest of my life.
"Wow, nice ride", his eyes bulge. I shrug uncomfortably. Jax nods his head, preparing to leave, and awkwardly leans in for a side hug. I welcome it, and try to make him feel more comfortable but he recoils and half waves before dashing off to his Mom's little Honda. I sigh and head back up the hill for home.
"Aunt Del!" I shout, banging the rickety screen door that doesn't close all the way. It's basically pointless. I dump my bags by the laundry machine and continue inside, catching a whiff of some wretched smell. Oh god, what the hell is that? I instinctively cover my nose with my sweatshirt.
"In here, sweetheart!" She calls melodically.
I reluctantly trudge into the kitchen. The brown tile floors are rustic and cozy, but the grout is speckled with color and stains from whatever the hell she does in this kitchen. I turn my head to the overwhelmingly messy countertop. The bar side of the countertop is hidden beneath mounds of lumpy, puke colored bars that are drying in grotesque shapes on wax paper. On the other side, my wayward aunt is stirring something rather thick in a huge pot. I didn't even know we owned a pot that size. Her thick red hair that was identical to my mothers is pulled in a huge, frizzy bun on top of her head. Her face looks older than she is with worry lines, crows feet, and the gray springing up at her roots. Her round, brown eyes intensely study her task under thin eyebrows. It smells like lavender, blueberries, lemon, grass, rosemary, oranges, cloves, cinnamon, and...is that cayenne pepper? I scrunch up my nose and pull my sweatshirt down, trying not to offend her. The combination is not welcoming or even remotely appealing to the nose.
"What's going on?" I prod, leaning my arms on the countertop, careful to avoid a purpley tinted puke bar.
"Well, Queenie- you know Queenie, Mrs.Halpert's sister in law?- she told me about this amazing business her cousin got into that made her tons of money and she even sold her product in Barneys! Barneys, E!" She grabs my arm and widens her eyes for emphasis. I narrow my eyes and survey her. "Anyways, it was soap! I looked up a ton of recipes online and bought all this at the store and I'm trying to find the perfect formula. I mean, I know it's not so great yet," she motions to the sad lumps and deflates a little, "but I think I'm getting closer." She watches me. She always needs my approval, everything she does is to help me or make me happy.
"I think you're doing great, Del" I kiss her cheek and turn to walk down the one hall in our home that leads to my bedroom, hers, the bathroom, and the guest room.
"Oh gosh, honey! I completely forgot- how was practice?!" She exclaims with hope. She's been begging me to go back since last year but I still wasn't ready yet. So we moved back. She knew I'd find more peace here. "It was... It was really great" I bite my lip, give her a smile, then head back down the hall to take a shower.
"Mom?" I whisper, climbing into bed next to her. The letter from the Marines is torn open on her bedside table next to a check and a clutter of sketches. "Oh God, Ricki, where have you been?" She slurs. She's been drinking? My mom is definitely a drinker, but not a drunk. She has an image to maintain as a rising fashion design icon, and being shitfaced isn't part of it. She flips over to look at me, her body close to mine. I can see the dark makeup circles sitting in crummy puddles of tears under her eyes. "What's wrong?" I ask, straightening out a little more, deepening my voice. I can fix it for her. Daddy's not here to fix it, so I can do it for him while he's gone. She just shakes her head "Ricki, Daddy's gone." I remember turning away from her and sitting up, reading the letter. They regretted to inform us that my dad had gone Missing in Action. They were deeply sorry. Here was some money to refund us for his life. Like that would buy back the way he held Mom, or danced with her lazily in the living room or kitchen. Like that would buy back my greatest supporter in swimming. Like that would buy back the tall man with the dark hair and olive skin that I was proud to look just like. She sat up and gathered me in her arms and I don't remember how long we both sobbed because it all just faded into blackness.