It's Called Tomorrow

three

"The wonderful thing about second chances is that they exist"
― Felice Stevens

...

"Bodhi?"

"Bodhi... it's time to get up."

I open my eyes.

"What... what are you doing?" I ask Mom, groggily.

The bright morning sun peeking through the blinds, forces me to squint my eyes.

I hold my hand up in an attempt to block out the light.

Mom has both my ready and packed suitcases open, and she's taking stuff out from the dresser and cramming more clothes into the carriers.

I roll my eyes. "Mom, I already packed enough clothes." I tell her this while getting up from bed.

She's such a perfectionist that she thinks if I don't have a enough clothes packed, that I'll somehow not win any gold in tomorrow's swim meet.

"I know, I know sweetie," she says, packing more socks into my suitcase. "But it's not bad to be overly prepared."

I stop her further from adding anymore stuff into my suitcase.

I take her hands.

"Mom, it's going to be all right." I look her in the eyes.

"Besides," I add, zipping back-up both suitcases, "you need to help Dugal pack."

I don't try to hide the loathing in my voice when I say my step-father's name.

She grins at my words (unaware of the shift in my tone at the mention of her husband) and seems to hesitantly nod her head at my suggestion. "You're right." She gives me a quick peck on the cheek before leaving the room.

I sit back down on my bed and I let out an anguish sigh.

I'm nervous about the meet tomorrow. I'll be going up against people from different places all over the country. The nervous feeling is not a surprise at all but the fact that my back is hurting is what surprises me.

This is the first time that it's ever hurt like this—a weird kind of spasm going on.

I took some Advil before going to bed last night to see if that would help, but obviously it didn't, and the Advil usually helps with my aching muscles—especially if I've been training a lot. I haven't told Mom or Dugal about the pain in my back cuz they'll brush it off as me just being nervous about the competition.

When I'm well aware the pain is not just that. It's just in the left part of my back—almost as if it's my shoulder blade that's having problems.

I bow my head and run my fingers through my hair.

Sometimes I look around and try to see what other things I could be good at. But swimming seems to be the only thing, and cuz of that, I feel very limited.

I only know how to swim. That's it. I knew after graduating high school last year, that college wasn't an option—it's not as if I had graduated with honors or something like that. Besides, my parents didn't want me to go to college.

They want me to make it to the olympics. That's what they want me to do. They've been training me ever since I could walk. Even when I was in elementary school a time where a kid should just be a kid, I can remember swimming always being in the picture.

Swimming always first.

Nothing else.