Underwater

Chapter 3

        Practice is slow and hard. When I got to the pool this morning, steam was curling out from under the tops like the water was boiling soup and it would be warm and comfortable. Of course, it wasn't. I'd forgotten how cold early morning practice was in California, even in April. The shaded sky that hung over the coast most of the year was probably my favorite thing in the world, but it also made everything much chillier than necessary.
My body is in no way close to back in shape. My arms burn with every stroke and my legs feel like they're being dragged by my lead body. Mike tells me my butterfly is looking great though and he thinks I'll be ready to race by the next Invitational in a couple weeks. I let him think that. At least someone has confidence in me. The only thing getting me through practice is knowing I can go take the most satisfying hot shower when I get home.
   Jax wasn't at practice today and no one seems to be in a chatty mood. Or maybe they're just not chatty with me. Which is fine. I roll up my towel and shove it into my bag, getting dressed in my classic post practice outfit. Today it's leggings, a pair of Uggs I use specifically for swim, another meet sweatshirt, a beanie, and my parka. I'm just getting ready to pick up all my equipment and go treat myself to some pancakes when I feel a tap on my shoulder.  I whip around and there's Bexley Conrad. My initial judgement of her gives no justice to everything I observe now. Her white blonde hair is in a straight braid down her back, her incredibly tan skin glows next to all the dullness of the lazy, California landscape, and she has huge blue eyes that play contrast against her whole body. She's a perfect Californian specimen, her whole appearance making me sure she grew up on a beach. Just not this one. I watch her intently, scared she's going to reprimand me or insult me but she crosses her arms and breaks into a wide grin, reaching out her hand.
"I'm Bexley Conrad, and quite frankly I can't believe I'm meeting the Ricki St.James" she offers. Cautiously I take it and smile a tight smile; polite, but not exactly welcoming.
"Ive been trying to break your 200 fly record for over a year. You're one solid swimmer" she remarks, recrossing her arms.
"Oh, thanks, but that was so long ago-" I try to brush off her flattery. I don't need compliments, I don't need to be noticed. In fact I don't want to be, especially with this. They're all expecting the Ricki St.James that walked out of this pool three years ago that could throw down a best time because she was mad someone was beating her. I don't know who she is, or where she is. She got lost a long time ago and I'm utterly unsure if she'll ever make a reappearance. I'm not sure I even want her to.
        "Don't be humble. You were amazing" Bexley interrupts me to say this smugly. I try to read her face. She looks relaxed and comfortable. I realize quickly she's the type of girl to say everything how it is. I decide I like that.
        "Thanks" I mutter, shouldering my bag. "I should probably get going-" I start, trying to break the conversation before she starts searching for me.
        "Hold up, what's the rush? It's 8 AM on a Saturday morning? You got plans?" she chuckles. What is up with this girl? I can't tell if she likes me or loathes me, her eyes are completely unreadable even though I'm quite sure they're focused on reading me. It's slightly uncomfortable and makes me want to leave.
        "Um, no" I answer shyly, scratching my ear.
        "Didn't think so...you seem lonely. But you're stunning and you seem way too sweet for me, so I'm taking you home with me" she concludes. A wide smile with straight, white teeth overtakes her face as she says this.
        "Oh no, that's really nice but I don't have clothes, and my- my car is here" I try to wrack my brain for excuses. I know it's my instinct to say no. I know I should say no. But Bexley Conrad is the type of girl other girls yearn to be friends with. Just not me. Okay, maybe I do just a little bit. And she's completely right, the one thing I haven't lacked lately is loneliness.
        "No problem, I can pick you up. You can stay over if you'd like too" she offers. Just like that, a simple fix. I can't believe she's trying so hard to hang out with me. This immediately rockets my suspicions. I consider her invitation for a few seconds and suddenly I'm thinking about Mom. Mom was always with her friends; they were the first ones over the day after the news of Dad and they were front and center next to me and Aunt Del at the funeral. She always told me they kept her grounded, that they kept her sane when she felt sad or had a bad day. Mom would want this for me. Besides, it's not like I'm going to tell her my deepest, darkest secrets.
        "Yeah, okay. Can I have your number? I'll text you my address" I reach out for her phone. She smiles the smirk/side grin thing I'd seen her do often and hands her phone over. While I'm inputing the numbers a younger boy approaches us and starts whining to her about promises of coffee after practice. "Zip it, bud" she hisses, pointing her finger at him. She obviously is close with the kid. "Ricki this is my youngest brother, Major. He's in the junior group" she introduces.
        "Hey, man" I wave, slipping the phone back into Bexley's hand.
        "Whoa, you're actually Ricki St.James! Bex is always talking about your records, you're like, famous in our family. I laugh out loud at this and Bexley blushes. I wave her off.
        "That's super cool, I never imagined someone would be more dedicated to my swimming career than me. It's actually really flattering."
        "Yeah, well, she is" Major laughs. Bexley shoots him a look then turns back to me.
        "Well, you go home and get ready and I'll pick you up in an hour or so, sound cool?" I nod quickly and she waves with her little smirk plastered on her face. "See ya, Ricki" she calls behind her.
        I hurry home so I have as much time as I can to look presentable enough for this girl and her family. Bexley is definitely one to look good, which hasn't been necessary for me with nothing to do but go to the beach, swim, and hang with Aunt Del. I don't even remember the last time I did anything semi attractive with my hair or put makeup on. I blow dry my hair and stick some product in it, producing hair that looks the best it has in ages. I fill in my eyebrows, rub some concealer under my eyes, roll on mascara, and add some bronzer. I admire myself in the mirror. Maybe I need to do this more often.
        I throw on my black Jolyn top with some patterned bottoms and then a pair of short, denim shorts. I finally slip on a cream colored, flowing cami and my Rainbow flip flops. There: An effortless look that took way too much effort. I sigh and gather my hobo bag to take with me. A horn honks outside and my phone dings, just in the nick of time.
        "Bye Aunt Del, I'm going to a friend's! I might stay over so don't wait up!" I shout, beelining for the door in hopes of making it out without any questions.
        "A friend? What friend?" she quizzes, stepping out of the kitchen, her brow furrowed.
        "Just a girl from swim. She seems nice. I like her, okay?" I lean over and kiss her cheek. "I'll text you. Love you, bye!" I call as I run out the screen door, letting it slam shut.
"Kate! Katey, where are you, honey?" Eloise yells as she comes in the front door, concern clear in her features. Behind her is Keira and Ro, some of my mom's best friends. "She's in her bedroom" I murmur quietly. "Oh, god, Ericka!" Eloise wraps her arms around me. She's my mom's childhood friend and is around far more often than my aunt. "I'm so sorry, baby. How's your mom doing?" she says as she steps back, her hands still holding my face, sympathy seeping out of her. God, I loathed sympathy. It made me feel so small and useless. I was not small or useless. Just because daddy was gone didn't mean I'd changed to some delicate flower that would break if someone said something wrong. But I was polite. I shrunk against her touch as I answered, "She's doing a bit better. You know her, too strong for her own good." Eloise looks back with a sad grin at Keira and Ro who are emptying groceries they brought. "Alright, well we'll go see her." "Oh, guys! Thanks for the groceries. It's a huge help" I tell them honestly. Gratitude is always a good thing to show, even if it's the smallest act of kindness that makes you express it.