The Cream in His Oreos [#Wattys2018]

1. Dunk, Dip, Whatever You Wanna Call It

ONE

I jumped off of the diving board and into the water headfirst. The action was as normal for me as breathing. But when you were a swimmer, breathing was overrated.

At least that's what I'd been taught ever since I was little. I remember when I'd first started taking swimming lessons at the age of three from my coach. Or as I usually called him, Dad.

Apparently, there was 'chlorine in my blood,' and I was destined to be a swimmer, just like the rest of my family. I still think about how I'd jumped off of my first big girl diving board and swam across the water like I'd been trained to do for months. The exhilaration of the water rushing around my body and surrounding me, my hair pushing back away from my face. I loved it.

By my first swimming competition, I was hooked. I'd won first place among my age group of five to seven year olds and had proudly held up my shiny medal, smiling for the cameras.

Now I rose up above the water and grabbed onto the edge of the pool, resting my arms above it and kicking my feet.

"Let me see your backflip."

I nodded dutifully at the man, pushing myself up and walking over to the diving board. I climbed the stairs for the second time, taking careful steps forward and turning around before bending my knees to get a good bounce going. I finally jumped off, curling my legs up near my body, and successfully landed in the water in a straight line.

"Wonderful. Stunning, actually." I grinned at the man as I popped up above the water again. "You know what, Vanessa? I want you on my varsity team."

My eyes widened in shock as I looked from him to my father beside him. "Are you serious?"

He laughed, taking off his cap to show me his thinning hair. "As serious as I am bald. Call me Coach."

I couldn't help the giant smile that spread across my face as I got out, wrapping my towel around myself and pulling off my swim cap. "Let's go, Nessa." I let my dad wrap his arm around my shoulder as we walked out, him gently shaking me. "I am so proud of you. You've been working so hard lately." I looked up at my father, his blue eyes twinkling. "I think that a reward is in store?"

"Pizza?" My eyes lit up.

He nodded. "That's just what I was thinking."

______

"Dad," I started, watching him take another slice of pizza, the gooey cheese stretching across the table until it finally snapped and fell back. "Do you think I'll like school here?"

"Vanessa." He laughed. "Are we really going to have this conversation, again?" I nodded, gaining a sigh from him. "I already told you. School at BHS isn't going to be any different than it was at the middle school."

"But it is!" I whined. "This is high school, Dad. There's gonna be all sorts of new people from the other school, and I probably won't have any friends here."

"Vanessa." He took a deep breath, lifting some fallen cheese back onto his slice. "You're just over-reacting. You'll know all of the people there from your middle school. It'll be a little more work, a little more freedom, and that's just about it." I opened my mouth to say something, but he wasn't done. "And don't start with me about this thing you've got in your head that you won't make any friends. I know better than that."

I closed my mouth. It was what I was going to say, but I guess he could read my mind now. After so many years of just us, we'd developed a kind of love and trust in each other that we were practically one in the same.

"I know, Dad," I said. "I'm just worried and nervous. That's all."

He shook his head. "You weren't worried and nervous about your first swim meet."