“She totally one-upped your idea again! Does that woman have one original thought? Aren’t you pissed?”
“Yeah, sort of.” Dad snags another olive and tosses it in his mouth. “I’d proposed an Americana theme this year—hot dogs, cotton candy. Something simple but delicious.” Dad loves the classics. “It turned out the mayor’s office wanted something different. I can’t let what other people do affect me.”
“But how do you get past that?”
My father thinks for a moment. “If you spend all your time thinking about how someone is going to one-up you, you can’t put your best foot forward. You can’t spend all your mental energy focusing on your opponent. You’ll lose every time that way.”
I push the almonds around on the plate.
“Maggie, what’s wrong?” Dad asks. “Your mom said something happened with Levi?”
“We had a fight.”
“About what?”
I shake my head. “He did something mean. I’m not sure he was thinking straight when he did it, and he apologized. I probably overreacted—it’s not all his fault, but I don’t know that I can get past it.”
Dad squeezes my shoulder. “Friends like Levi don’t come around every day. I’m sure he didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It still hurts.” And it’s mostly my fault. He would’ve never been in that situation if not for me. “I need some time.”
“Nothing wrong with a bit of distance to help you see things clearly. I was really pissed last night when I heard Musgrave won the pajama party contract, but then I thought, she won’t win next year because she won’t be able to copy my idea from this year.” Dad chuckles evilly. “And I’ll come up with something even better.”
I love my dad.
And he’s right. It’s okay to take time to let the dust settle. It’s okay to regroup.
On Sunday night, I make a decision.
I text Levi: I am driving myself tomorrow.
Practice
Levi looks unkempt.
At practice Monday morning, he hasn’t shaved his face and his hair isn’t brushed. Normally it’s sleeked back before he tucks it under a swim cap.
Instead of joining me in lane six, he hops down into lane eight with Jason and two other guys. Four guys to a lane gives them less room to spread out, which causes them to roughhouse around for room. He appears to be paying for his decision to switch lanes because the guys are doing silly stuff during breaks between sets, like cannonballing into the water to splash Levi and piss him off. On top of that, they are all rapping loudly along with the music spilling from the speakers. Levi horses around on occasion, but he doesn’t seem to be in the mood today—and he tells them to shut up.
Lunchtime is not any better. We join Hunter and Shelby and Shelby’s gaggle of sophomore friends who are busy making fun of how they got caught going at it in the equipment shed.
“Right there. Right there, baby!” a girl says, mimicking Hunter’s deep voice.
“Say you’re mine!” another one cries.
“I want to know every part of you!”
“I fantasize about you!”
“Don’t stop!”
“That is not what I sound like,” Hunter protests.
Shelby, laughing so hard tears are rolling down her cheeks, elbows him. “It kind of is.”
I cover my mouth, barely able to contain my laughter. Georgia and Levi, however, are acting weird.
Georgia is so mad at Levi she didn’t even sit at our table. She’s over with David and all the Quiz Bowl guys, who are busy reading questions to each other from index cards. At least Georgia will be great at playing Jeopardy! after this.
I spy Levi out of the corner of my eye, giving me nervous glances. He’s reading a worn copy of Divergent. Even though lunch is half an hour long, I never see him turning a page.
“Why’s Georgia not sitting with us?” Hunter asks as he plays with Shelby’s hair.
“She’s pissed at me,” Levi pipes up.
“What’d you do?” Shelby asks.
“Something really stupid.” His eyes find mine. “I regret it.”
“Fix it,” Hunter tells Levi, who nods. He bites on his lip. Then he shuts his paperback and leaves the cafeteria before the bell rings. This is all my fault. If I’d never propositioned him, everything would be okay. My group would be okay. We would be okay, and stress wouldn’t be pouring out of my eyeballs.
Levi gives me space on Monday, but on Tuesday he’s back swimming in our regular lane. “Morning,” he grunts, seeming more like himself. “I can’t share a lane with those assholes.”
“Totally understand… Levi, I’m sorry if I messed things up between you and Georgia.”
He shakes his head. “It’s my fault, not yours. Don’t worry about anything, okay?”
I tell myself that when I see Georgia I’m going to encourage her to make up with Levi. He’s nothing like Kevin, who acted blameless after he cheated on her.
We go through our workout, which is a real ballbuster. Now that we’re gearing up for Junior Nationals in Huntsville in three weeks, Coach has us swimming 7,500 yards to give us the endurance we’ll need to swim prelims and races in several events. Between sets we’re breathing heavily and barely have energy to goof off. Jason doesn’t even have the strength to slap my butt with a kickboard.
Coach paces the length of the pool, calling out pointers on technique during pull drills. “Nice, Maggie. Get your elbows higher.”
For a second my mind flits to Roxy. Are my elbows as high as hers? But then I remember what Dad said on Sunday—if I keep focusing on my rival, it’ll be a self-fulfilling prophesy. The only one I should be paying attention to is myself.
The workout is hella exhausting. After my shower, I muster the energy to put on my school clothes and pull my hair back into a bushy, wet bun. At least it’s warmer outside than it had been; the water droplets in my hair aren’t going to freeze. I walk out of the locker room at the same time Levi does. He nods at me, jingling his keys on the way to the lot.
I climb into my dad’s Honda Accord and start the ignition, taking a deep breath. I can do this. I can drive to school. I did fine yesterday. Before pulling out of the lot, I put on my seat belt. Those crash test dummies on insurance commercials wear them, so I should too. I begin the trip back to Franklin, leaning forward in my seat, driving like an old lady. If I ever become a rich, famous swimmer with loads of endorsement deals, the first thing I will invest in is a driver.
I make it off I-40 and onto the back roads, but when I hit the four-lane road in Franklin a car totally cuts me off. Shit!
I swerve to the right.
My car runs off the road.
It flies into a ditch.
My teeth crash together, rattling my head, and I lunge forward, hitting the steering wheel, my seat belt pulling me back. Ow. Oh my God, oh my God.
I lift my head. Spots swim in front of my eyes as I pat down my body. Wiggle my arms and feet. I’m okay. But I’m shaking, my lips trembling. The airbag didn’t open, probably because I didn’t hit anything. I unbuckle my seat belt.
Someone knocks on the window. It’s Levi. He opens my door, crouches down, and carefully surrounds me with his arms. I lean against his chest. It’s heaving up and down.