Read Online Hold My Breath by Ginger Scott - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ginger Scott
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the door opened a tick behind me, but I don’t wait for Maddy to get out and leave. We’re done here.
We probably should have never started.
Chapter Five
Maddy
* * *
H e doesn’t even look tired .
Will was early to training, most of his warm-up laps done before my fingertips hit the water. I’m dragging today, and I know it. My dad knows it, too. He just doesn’t know the reason why.
I left here last night early enough to get a decent night’s sleep, if only my eyes and mind would have cooperated. I laid awake until almost three, and I honestly think sheer exhaustion was the only thing to knock me out. Without it, my mind would have kept working to make sense of Will’s behavior… of my own.
“Do it again,” my dad says the second I lift my body from the pool. His mouth is flat, and he’s painted with disappointment. My chest hurts because I don’t like it when I make him act like this—like a real coach.
“Yes, sir,” I say, mimicking his tone. It doesn’t help my case. His glare drops and his eyes narrow, that flat line on his mouth moving into angry territory.
I dive in and begin my strokes to the other end, a swimmer’s equivalent to running away. I get to the other side and push off to return, but my eyes catch Will and my dad talking. My strokes get sloppy, and without realizing it, I stop in the middle of my lane, reaching for the rope. My dad’s eyes swing my direction, so I pull my goggles down and act like I’m adjusting something until he looks away.
The second their conversation breaks, I start my swim again, and I don’t stop for a dozen laps. It isn’t my muscles making me slow today; it’s my head.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen. Today is about speed. We’re going to sprint today, probably until your arms feel like they’re going to fall away from their sockets. Today is all about getting a good start, and all about nothing but you and the wall over there, and getting there as fast as you can. So hydrate, shake out whatever might be holding you back today,” my dad pauses, his eyes moving to me, “and then get on the blocks, ready to go.”
Amber, the girl I met the first day, waits for me near the bleachers, her bag wedged next to mine. I admire her spirit—but small talk, and being an inspiration or team leader or whatever—is kinda the last thing on my possible list right now. My mouth closed tight, I manage to show her a smile as I snatch my water bottle from the side pouch on my bag.
“I love sprinting. I hope I don’t embarrass myself,” she says.
I hold her gaze and smile with my eyes while taking a drink. I have to manage one motivational minute. Amber seems sweet, and the turmoil in my head isn’t her fault.
“You won’t. You wouldn’t be here if you did anything embarrassing in the water. Remember, it’s all about personal bests. Don’t worry about what any of the other swimmers do.”
Wow, that wasn’t half bad.
“It’s you I’m worried about. I watched you swim at Nationals last year,” she says, looking from me to her feet over and over again. “You’re pretty much the reason I’m here. I pushed myself enough to make it into this camp. I honestly don’t even care if I make the team from here. This is so enough.”
She laughs nervously before drinking more water and looking the other way. I’ve never really had a fan before, and it feels nice and awkward at the same time. I sort of feel responsible for her.
“How old are you?” I ask her. Her eyes dart to me.
“Eighteen,” she swallows. That means she’s a new eighteen. Probably fresh out of high school.
I glance from side-to-side before leaning into her.
“Come back here tonight, after practice. Be here by nine,” I say, the right side of my mouth twitching.
“Oh….kayyyy,” she says, her eyes worried, but a glint of excitement in them. I remember when mine looked that same way when the older swimmers took me to The Flour Mill the first time. A perk of growing up here
We probably should have never started.
Chapter Five
Maddy
* * *
H e doesn’t even look tired .
Will was early to training, most of his warm-up laps done before my fingertips hit the water. I’m dragging today, and I know it. My dad knows it, too. He just doesn’t know the reason why.
I left here last night early enough to get a decent night’s sleep, if only my eyes and mind would have cooperated. I laid awake until almost three, and I honestly think sheer exhaustion was the only thing to knock me out. Without it, my mind would have kept working to make sense of Will’s behavior… of my own.
“Do it again,” my dad says the second I lift my body from the pool. His mouth is flat, and he’s painted with disappointment. My chest hurts because I don’t like it when I make him act like this—like a real coach.
“Yes, sir,” I say, mimicking his tone. It doesn’t help my case. His glare drops and his eyes narrow, that flat line on his mouth moving into angry territory.
I dive in and begin my strokes to the other end, a swimmer’s equivalent to running away. I get to the other side and push off to return, but my eyes catch Will and my dad talking. My strokes get sloppy, and without realizing it, I stop in the middle of my lane, reaching for the rope. My dad’s eyes swing my direction, so I pull my goggles down and act like I’m adjusting something until he looks away.
The second their conversation breaks, I start my swim again, and I don’t stop for a dozen laps. It isn’t my muscles making me slow today; it’s my head.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen. Today is about speed. We’re going to sprint today, probably until your arms feel like they’re going to fall away from their sockets. Today is all about getting a good start, and all about nothing but you and the wall over there, and getting there as fast as you can. So hydrate, shake out whatever might be holding you back today,” my dad pauses, his eyes moving to me, “and then get on the blocks, ready to go.”
Amber, the girl I met the first day, waits for me near the bleachers, her bag wedged next to mine. I admire her spirit—but small talk, and being an inspiration or team leader or whatever—is kinda the last thing on my possible list right now. My mouth closed tight, I manage to show her a smile as I snatch my water bottle from the side pouch on my bag.
“I love sprinting. I hope I don’t embarrass myself,” she says.
I hold her gaze and smile with my eyes while taking a drink. I have to manage one motivational minute. Amber seems sweet, and the turmoil in my head isn’t her fault.
“You won’t. You wouldn’t be here if you did anything embarrassing in the water. Remember, it’s all about personal bests. Don’t worry about what any of the other swimmers do.”
Wow, that wasn’t half bad.
“It’s you I’m worried about. I watched you swim at Nationals last year,” she says, looking from me to her feet over and over again. “You’re pretty much the reason I’m here. I pushed myself enough to make it into this camp. I honestly don’t even care if I make the team from here. This is so enough.”
She laughs nervously before drinking more water and looking the other way. I’ve never really had a fan before, and it feels nice and awkward at the same time. I sort of feel responsible for her.
“How old are you?” I ask her. Her eyes dart to me.
“Eighteen,” she swallows. That means she’s a new eighteen. Probably fresh out of high school.
I glance from side-to-side before leaning into her.
“Come back here tonight, after practice. Be here by nine,” I say, the right side of my mouth twitching.
“Oh….kayyyy,” she says, her eyes worried, but a glint of excitement in them. I remember when mine looked that same way when the older swimmers took me to The Flour Mill the first time. A perk of growing up here