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Her blue eyes narrow. “My daughter will not compete. Not like this. Not on my watch.” She steps back, straightening her already meticulous shirt. “If you care about your coaching career, you will walk away from her.”

A cruel smile pulls at my lips. “And that is where you are wrong about me, Alina. I will do whatever it takes to support him. I will coach him. I will protect him from bigots like you who have built a worldview so fragile any deviation threatens catastrophe.”

My hands tremble as I grab a bottle of the pink-tinged coconut water and a bottle of Coke. Without saying anything else, I walk away.

I am barely cognizant of paying for our food. Anger simmers under my skin as I walk back to our bungalow. I understand intolerance, and have lived a version of it myself as a gay man. I have taken slurs on the chin, and have considered potential partners with my safety at the forefront. But to hear it from a parent? It is sickening. Absolutely fucking sickening.

I want to wrap Aleks up in a blanket and surround his slender limbs with my larger frame. I want to put my body on the line for him. To shield him from the words of the woman who may have given birth to him, but does not deserve the title of mother.

He deserves so much better than her.

I wish there was a way for Aleks to compete without interacting with Alina. But she is a judge, one of the longest sitting on the interspecies panel, and I cannot imagine that changing in the next twenty-four hours.

Aleks needs to win. He needs to stand up there on the podium in front of the cheering crowd, and walk away with a medal around his neck. It is not enough for him to settle for a single performance in the preliminary round. Not enough for him to show his face and then walk away.

No. It is not enough. Not for him.

Not for my boy.

Not for my…

I exhale loudly, shake out my stiff shoulders, and then pick up my pace. First, lunch. Then, the truth.

And then, I have to help him win.

I smell the sharp smoke right as our bungalow comes into view. I frown, disappointed. There is only one day before the preliminary round, and Aleks has been so focused. So disciplined.

So good.

But right now he sits slumped on the front stoop in one of my t-shirts and a pair of athletic shorts, gripping a burned-down cigarette between his fingers like it is the only thing keeping him tethered.

I pick up my pace. I feel my heartbeat accelerate to an almost unnatural speed, frantic anxiety loud in my chest. Whatever is going on with Aleks, it is not good.

“What happened?”

He looks up at me then, eyes harder than I have ever seen them. “Read it,” he says, tossing a piece of paper at me.

I snatch the letter out of the air.

Aleks Parthenope,

As promised, the committee has convened to make a final ruling on the petition for Aleks Parthenope to compete as a soloist at the Clash of Creatures.

Aleks Parthenope’s petition, which cited Section 4b in the IASA bylaws as grounds for a solo exemption, was carefully reviewed and discussed. What our committee found was that, while an initial search for a duet partner may not have been fruitful, it is clear the search was not all that extensive. Attached you will find the names of seven qualified duet partners, all of whom are available for the qualifying duet round.

The IASA officially denies Aleks Parthenope’s request to compete as a soloist, and welcomes a duet performance from him in the qualifying round.

It is worthy of note that, as long as they are able to pass a banned substance screening and are not already committed to another duet team, any athlete of any species will be eligible to join his duet.

Any questions or feedback can be submitted to our office at the International Archive of Artistic Swimming.

Signed,

International Artistic Swimming Association

My eyes close. Dios, I knew this was coming. I wanted to believe—fuck, I did believe there was a way for Aleks to do this on his own terms. He has made it here on his own, without a team standing by him.

I cannot fault the IASA for refusing to change the entire Clash of Creatures on behalf of one man. However, I can wish for them all to die by drowning for the way they drew out their decision, and for the emotional wreckage it will leave in its wake.