Page 45 of Stroke of Fate

“Group one, you’re with the girls’ basketball team…”

I zone out as she continues calling out groups, too focused on tidying up my notes to listen. When she finally reaches my group, I recap my highlighter and sit up straighter.

“Group five, you’re with the swim team.”

Swim team?I didn’t even know Huska had a swimming pool, let alone a swim team.

A sense of dread fills me when I think about what she said regarding attending practices. I don’t know much about competitive swimming, but I do know that they usually train early in the morning.

And if this is eighty percent of my grade, I have no choice but to suck it up., then I have little choice but to suck it up.

“Okay, that’s everyone.” Professor Blackwell powers down the projector and turns to face us again. “Three things. One, you’ll have a personal check-in with me every two to three weeks to ensure you don’t fall behind, which is easy to do when a deadline is three months away. Two, log onto the school website with your ID to access any team’s training schedule. And three, I’ll send an email after class outlining all the specific requirements.”

***

When lunch rolls around, I’m the first to arrive at Kneadful, a quaint bagel cafe near campus where the girls and I are meeting.

With the extra time, I log onto the school’s website. My fear is confirmed when I find the team’s training schedule. Theyhave early morning practices Monday through Thursday in the Natatorium.

A quick Google search reveals that a natatorium is a room that houses an indoor swimming pool. Huh. Who would’ve thought it wasn’t just called an indoor pool?They also have dry-land training in the afternoon, which I assume means training outside the water.

Both Friday and Saturday have an asterisk. I scroll down to the footnote, which explains that training hours vary on those days depending on upcoming swim meets.

Since tomorrow is Thursday, I have to show up to morning practice to make sure they’re there. There’s no mention of who’s on the team, so I’m going in blind. Hopefully, the girl I pick ends up being friendly.

The sound of my name pulls my attention from the screen. Elsie and Macy wave me over, so I close my laptop and join them in line. Although the place is significantly busier, the line moves quickly, and we’re back at our table with food and drinks in no time.

Elsie moans as she takes a bite of her bagel. “Mm…so good.”

“Are you eating a bagel or having an orgasm?” Macy snorts as she unwraps hers.

“Don’t judge me. I’ve been dreaming of this bagel for most of the summer while I was away.” Elise wrinkles her nose and goes to take another bite.

“Where’d you go?” I ask her, swallowing the bit I took, which practically melts on my tongue.

“North Carolina to visit my grandparents on my mom’s side. And let me tell you, people are onto something about that southern charm.” She fans herself with her free hand, making me giggle.

“Sounds like we should join you next time,” Macy says, smiling behind her water bottle as she brings it to her lips.

“Yes! Girl’s trip! Tell your brother he can’t come.”

“What did Hayden do now?” Macy sighs, setting her water down. “He lives in the same building as Elsie,” she adds for my sake.

“And you don’t?” I ask.

“Not yet, but I plan on moving out in a few months. I'm just waiting for something to become available.”

“You might want to start looking at other buildings, too,” Elsie says. “You know how competitive these student apartments can get.”

“I am. As soon as something opens up, wherever that may be, I’m putting in my application.” Macy fiddles with the wrapper around her bagel. “Now, let’s hear about what my brother did.”

Elsie sets her food down and folds her hands on the table. “Okay, so I’ve barely cracked my eyes open on Sunday morning when he rings the doorbell with a green smoothie. And then he’s all,‘I told you so, now drink this smoothie. It’ll help your hangover’.” She tries to imitate him, dropping her voice into a deep tone that’s probably nowhere near accurate. “I swear, Macy, if you guys weren’t twins, there’s no way I’d believe you came out of the same womb.”

“Why? Because he’s smart, and I’m—” Before she even finishes, Elsie interrupts.

“No! I mean, yes, he’s super smart. Hello, he studies engineering, but more like you’re easy-going, and he’s Mr. Serious,” Elsie replies, rolling her eyes.

“Backing up for a second. You’re upset because he checked in on you and brought you a smoothie.” I chime in.

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