Keeping Real - Ashton Irwin

Chapter 1

"Just one more lap Paige, and you're done for the day," Mr. Kae yelled out. "Sounds good." I sighed, pulled my goggles back onto my head and dove back into the water for what seemed to be the millionth time that day. The final swim meet of the year was in 2 months, and my private coach and I had spent extra time in the water since we found out that representatives from Stanford, Berkeley, and the University of Virginia would be there. All three amid the top colleges for swimming and diving. If I trained under any of those schools, I had a better opportunity of becoming an Olympian.

I heaved my sore limbs out of the pool and headed for my coach, ready for the day's assessment. "You improved your time on the 100 meter freestyle. Good. But it is crucial that you start to pick up speed on your butterfly stroke, ok? Hit the gym tomorrow morning and do the shoulder exercises we worked on, alright?" I nodded as I toweled off, already having expected his demands. "Alright Coach. Do you think I'll be able to nail that stroke in time?" He grinned and patted me on the back. "Of course, kiddo. Now go shower off and get a good night's rest."

As I peeled off my suit and attempted to rinse off the ever-remaining smell of chlorine off my body, I finally allowed myself to think about the rest of my life. Swimming, to me, is a mind game. When I don't think about my boyfriend, my mom, my best friend, or college applications, I am able to produce better results. So as soon as I get in the shower, my mind starts to stress, enveloping me in the problems that don't exist when I'm underwater.

I grabbed my towel from my bag and wrapped it around my damp blonde hair, which happens to be tinged with blue from all my hours at the pool. Usually, I am alone in the showers, since I usually finish around 8o'clock and the other swimmers don't stay as late as I. But I heard another shower running. "Strange," I remarked to myself. I grabbed my clothes and shimmied them over my still-damp body, weary of strangers at such a late hour. I was about to brush my hair up into a pony when I heard the other guest in my shower begin to sing, "I walk alone, I walk alone.." I grinned, recognizing song. He had quite a nice voice, whoever it was. I raised my eyebrows, unsure what to do.

"You know this is a girl's dressing room, don't you?" I called out cautiously, my voice echoing across the tile room. The singing stopped abruptly, followed by a deep chuckle. "Oh yes, I'm quite aware." I stiffened, sure that whoever is in the restroom intended to rape me. "Creep." I wrung my suit out in the sink, and threw it into the side of my bag. The shower turned off, just as I was about to head out the door. A tall boy, with a mop of curly hair walked out of the shower, towel around his waist.

"The men's room was locked, so I decided to grab a quick shower in here. I didn't think anyone else would be here," he quickly explained. "Hmm." I shrugged, not wanting to make eye contact with the individual I had labeled a rapist in my mind and a creep outloud. "I'msorryI'lljustgo," I mumbled, becoming increasingly embarassed by the moment. "No, just let me walk you to your car," he said, pulling on a pair of sweatpants. "It's the least I can do," he added, flashing me a grin. I rolled my eyes, but waited as he got dressed.

"I'm Ashton Irwin, by the way," he said, once we had left the showers, extending his hand for me to shake. I smiled at his cocky grin and shook his hand. "I'm Paige. Paige Hemmings." He turned, and gave me a suprised look. "The Paige Hemmings? I should have guessed. Only the star of the swim team would have been here so late." I grimaced, unusually upset by the usual reaction people gave whenever they met me. "The star of the swim team. The Paige Hemmings. I'm more than that, Ashton Irwin." He quirked an eyebrow, but didn't remark. We came upon my car, a blue, beat-up Chevy truck. I turned quickly to face Ashton, and hastily thanked him before climbing in my car, embarassed by my quick outburst. Before I could shut the door, however, he held it open with his arm. I raised an eybrow in question, just wanting to go home, but also slightly curious about this boy. "Night, Hemmings," and he moved his arm away, letting the door slam shut.

"Night, Irwin."