Page 24 of Deep End

I’m starving, but my walk to the athlete dining hall is slow, because I’m busy writing an email to one Dr. Olive Smith.

CHAPTER 11

LET’S GO BACK FOR A SECOND TO THAT DIVE GROUP YOU MENTIONED. Inverse.”

“Inward?”

“Yes.” Sam sighs, like she’s starting to lose patience with herself for not having the lingo memorized. It’s endearing, I must say. “Once again, sorry.”

“No problem. The names are weird.”

“So, when your injury occurred, you were performing an inward dive. Correct?”

I make a deliberate effort to avoid squirming. Sam, I suspect, takes note of that kind of stuff. “Correct.”

“As I understand it, your injury is fully healed.”

“It is.”

“Are there any remnants of it that make inward dives particularly challenging for you?”

I wish I could nod. So,sobad. Instead I drag out saying, “No,” for as long as I can, and this time, I cannot help fidgeting.

CHAPTER 12

HATED PICTURE DAY IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL, HATE MEDIAday in college. I’m nothing if not consistent.”

I doubt Victoria, or anyone else, has ever uttered words worthier of my endorsement, even if Pen shrugs cheerfully and says, “I think it’s fun.”

It’s Thursday after practice. The entire team wears black meet suits and crowds around the locker room mirror—the unflattering one that magically spotlights all our pores at the same time. We have one reflective surface, two harsh ceiling lamps, three poorly placed outlets, four curling irons, five divers, and twenty minutes to fool the world into believing we’re more than chlorine-soaked hair tangles.

“If this is fun, I fucking hate fun,” Victoria mutters. She turns to Bree and Bella, who are fighting over eyeliner techniques. “Can’t you two ever do your own individual thing?” she snaps. The twins look so fiercely outraged, I’m surprised she doesn’t collapse into a pile of elastane blend.

“Okay, well, what areyoudoing with makeup?” she asks Pen and me. I have hairpins held between my teeth, but point at my mascara.

“I did consider all-body galaxy glitter, just to see Coach’s face,”Pen says, “but I think I’ll replicate the natural look I did last weekend when I went out.”

“Date with Blomqvist?”

“Uh . . . yup. Yeah.”

“Nice to see the end of your breakup delusions.”

“Yeah.” Pen clears her throat.

Bree gasps. “Hang on—were you about to break up with Lukas?” I see they went for the cat eye.

“I . . . briefly considered it.”

“Why?”

She shrugs. “The joy of being single. The thrill of being chased, you know?”

“Maybe in your next life you’ll be a mallard duck,” Victoria mutters.

“Quack, quack.” Pen grins and sneaks a quick, secretive glance at me. She’s not a particularly good liar, and I’m not sure what surprises me the most: that she’s hiding something, or that the others can’t tell.

Truthfully, given Victoria’s reaction a couple of weeks ago, I understand her choice. Plus, she and Lukas are kind of a big deal on campus. Maybe they’re working their way to making an announcement.

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