Coming Up for Air

Normally I’d grab a ride with Levi, but he had his Tennessean interview in Nashville, so he said he’d meet me there.

“Dad, can’t you take me? I don’t want to drive.”

My father passes me the keys. “Drive with confidence.”

“Drive with confidence? I don’t even know what that means.”

“Don’t go too slow, don’t go too fast. Drive confidently.”

“You’re no help.”

“Levi and I can’t drive you around forever,” Dad says with a kind smile.

“Maybe I’ll start riding a bike.”

“Coach Josh would kill you. And then steal your bike.”

It’s true. My coach is so afraid I’ll hurt myself doing some unsanctioned activity, he’d probably get mad if I played Monopoly. I could get a hand cramp while counting fake money or something.

“Fine, but if I wreck the car, it is all your fault,” I tell Dad, giving him an evil look and a kiss good-bye. I jingle the keys as I walk to his car, a red Honda Accord. As far as cars go, this is as safe as it gets. It’s not like it’s a tiny, speedy Ferrari or a cumbersome Range Rover. It’s a sedan. I can do this. I take a deep breath. Open the door.

Sliding inside, I adjust the front seat and snap on my seat belt. I yank on it a few times to test it. I triple check I’ve put the car in reverse instead of drive so I don’t floor it into the house again.

The speed limit down the four-lane road is forty miles per hour, but that is way too fast. I hover around twenty-five. Cars keep honking at me as they pass. I’m tempted to flip them off, but there is no way I can take my hands off the ten and two position.

Somebody honks to my left. I glance over to see two guys from school making fun of my driving. Both of them have their hands at the nine and three position and are sitting up straight like rods. Jerks.

I pull into the Jiffy Burger lot and try to park between two cars. Turning the steering wheel over and over, I repeatedly hit the wrong angle. Somebody honks their horn at me. I honk back and yell, “Hold your horses!” even though they can’t hear me.

I decide to give up on the spot closer to the entrance. I drive around the back of the building, pull the car into a spot, put it in park, close my eyes, and take a deep breath.

I send Dad a text: I made it, but barely!!!!!!!

Next I send Coach Josh a message: My dad made me drive. Can this be an unsanctioned activity please?

Outside of the car, I discover my parking job is horrendous. I’m straddling a white line, taking up two spaces. I’m surprised I didn’t somehow take up three. Can driver’s licenses be revoked for piss-poor parking jobs?

I pocket my keys and head inside.

My phone buzzes. Coach wrote back: I’ll talk to him.

I smile smugly. Coach Josh takes my swimming career very seriously and wouldn’t want me to do anything to hurt myself or make myself any more stressed than I already am. Ha. Take that, Dad.

When I look up, a man is sitting in our usual booth. He’s wearing dark jeans, a gray Henley, brown boots with the laces undone, and a black knit cap. I haven’t seen his face, but from behind I can tell he has a nice body. And damn, the urges come rushing back. My mind wanders to condoms and bananas. My blood heats up, imagining hooking up with the stranger. I suddenly need to fan myself.

Then the booth interloper looks over his shoulder and waves at me. Levi?

I march up to him. “Why are you wearing jeans and that shirt?”

He scowls down at his clothes. “Oma told Mom I was going to wear my sweats for the interview, and Mom flipped out.”

“Your outfit looks nice. I didn’t recognize you.”

Levi examines my face. “Why are you all flushed?”

“Dad made me drive myself,” I say, and Levi goes, “Ohhh.”

He buys my “driving made me nervous” excuse, but it isn’t exactly true. I can’t say I’m blushing because I was daydreaming about fooling around with a stranger…who turned out to be him. Am I going nuts? Breathing pool fumes has finally caught up with me.

I sit down next to him on our side of the booth, more aware of him than usual: How close his arm is to mine. How I can smell that cedar shampoo. How I’d like to snuggle up against that Henley.

“Maggie,” he says loudly.

I startle. “Yeah?”

“I’ve been trying to get your attention. You want to split some fries?”

“Get your own fries.”

He grins and goes back to reading his menu.

“Why are you even looking at that? Don’t you have it memorized?” I ask.

“I was thinking about getting a strawberry shake instead of a chocolate one.”

I gasp. “Sacrilege. So, tell me about the interview.”

He shrugs. “I thought it was mainly going to be about swimming, but the reporter wanted to talk about my family.”

“What about them?”

“Like, how my mom supported me by taking me to practice early in the morning and stuff… The reporter asked about my dad.”

His father is always a rough subject. Levi’s dad left when he was two years old and never came back to Tennessee. And while Levi wants a relationship with his younger half brother and half sister, he truly dislikes his father and has never forgiven him for leaving. Levi’s mom has never dated again because she was so heartbroken over what happened. Levi even had his last name changed to his mother’s maiden name.

“Why did the reporter ask that?”

Levi rips his straw paper into pieces. “Because I’m going to Texas for college. He put two and two together.”

“How’d he know where your dad lives?”

“I guess he did some digging before the interview.”

I elbow him. “Wow, the reporter actually investigated you? I didn’t know you were interesting enough for that,” I say, to ease some of the tension coming from my friend.

“The reporter also asked about you.”

“What about me?”

“Whether I thought you’d get your Olympic trial cut.”

I clutch his wrist. “What did you say?”

He shrugs. “I said you’re the one to beat.”

I throw my arms around him, hugging him close. He makes a fake choking noise, which only makes me hug him harder.

“Am I interrupting something?” Georgia slides into her spot across the booth.

Releasing Levi, I feel my face flushing again. His face is a little red too.

“No, just talking about Levi’s interview,” I say, trying to act naturally. I certainly didn’t tell Hunter and Georgia about last Saturday night’s unsanctioned activities with Levi, and I doubt he did either.

Hunter arrives shortly after Georgia. We order food and start chattering away. All of us except for Georgia, that is.

Georgia unwraps her silverware and places her napkin in her lap, smoothing it. I give her a questioning look. You okay? I mouth at her.

“I have some news,” Georgia says, and Levi and Hunter stop talking about Hunter’s first preseason baseball game that’s coming up next week.

“David Cantor asked me out.”

I break out into a big smile. “Eeee!”

Hunter and Levi give each other looks.

“Don’t make faces,” Georgia pleads.

Levi replies, “I like how he always starts the morning announcements by saying what the cafeteria is serving for lunch.”

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