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“Look at the scoreboard,” Kendall said, pointing across the pool, to where the other side of the stands was beginning to empty out as people filed from the room.
Shelly studied the scoreboard and saw the final tally for Triton Bay versus Little River. Not only had Shelly lost her race, but coming in dead last had caused her entire team to lose the meet overall, despite Kendall’s winning her fifty-meter breaststroke and Attina’s and Alana’s placing first and second in the hundred-meter backstroke. As if she could feel any worse.
“Next week is a new chance!” said Coach Greeley, their swim coach, in an effort to cheer them up. She peered at them through her thick glasses. Her dreadlocks pooled around her face. In front of her, she clutched her clipboard, on which she kept track of their times. “We’ll hit the pool hard in practice this week. Everyone rest up.”
Shelly followed the dejected team and their coach into the locker room. There, she and her teammates changed out of their competition suits. The new suits had looked so cheerful when they had put them on before the meet: deep navy striped with sunshine yellow, their school colors. But now they were sodden and balled up, and her teammates shot Shelly dark looks.
Shelly suddenly wanted more than anything to be alone in that instant. She glanced at Kendall, who had donned an expensive new athleisure outfit and was lacing her sneakers. The twins stood on either side of her, dressed and ready to go and glued to their cell phones.
“Hey, Kendall. I’m sorry I lost,” Shelly said, zipping up her tracksuit jacket. “I’ll work harder at practice this week, promise. I won’t lose to Judy again. I can’t believe she beat me.”
Kendall frowned, but her expression softened. “Fine. Luckily, we have one more shot, like coach said. Triton Bay still has the chance to win the Bayside Regional Trophy this year.”
“Yeah, it’s only Kendall’s life goal,” Alana said, exchanging glances with her twin.
“Yup, hashtag winning,” Attina said. “We’ve been planning it all summer. We’re going to throw, like, the biggest party to celebrate if—I mean when—we win.” She flashed a big smile.
“That’s right,” Kendall said. “My parents promised us. So don’t ruin it, Shelly. Got it?”
They all stared at Shelly expectantly.
She forced a smile. “No problem. I’m just having an off day. I’ll do better next time.”
She would do whatever it took. She never wanted to feel this way again.
Nothing was worse than letting her friends down.
“We’ll meet you outside,” Alana said.
Without another word, Kendall, Alana, and Attina took up their backpacks and left, along with the other swimmers. But Shelly stayed behind and sat alone on a bench as a million terrible thoughts circled through her head. She kept envisioning the next swim meet and Judy’s purple swim cap, bobbing farther and farther out of reach. She had to find a way to swim faster. She had to find a way to beat Judy and win her race. She went to the sink and turned on the taps, splashing water on her face. But then something strange happened. The water tasted salty. Like seawater.
Not only that, but it smelled like the ocean when a breeze wafted off it and onto the shore. But that was impossible! The smell grew stronger. She even heard seagulls squawking.
Slowly, she backed away from the sink, still tasting salt on her tongue.
Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed through the locker room, even though it was deserted.
“Ticktock, ticktock, my dear!”
Shelly spun around. Her heart thudded. “Who . . . who said that?” she asked.
“Twenty-four hours,” Ursula said. “That was our deal. Time’s almost up.”
But this is impossible, Shelly thought. It was only a nightmare! It wasn’t real!
“You may feel like a fish out of water now,” Ursula said. The taps turned on their own, water gushing from them fast and flooding the sinks. “But I can change that—I can help you win your next big race. Remember your wish?”
The water sloshed onto the floor, pooling around Shelly’s feet. She felt the urge to run, but something kept her rooted there. The sea witch in her nightmare had promised her one wish, hadn’t she? Was it possible that it hadn’t just been a dream? That it had really happened after all?
She remembered the contract, printed on parchment paper in ornate golden cursive, tempting her to sign it. Three words from the contract came to mind: the fastest swimmer.
Maybe it was a silly thought, but then again, hadn’t her day been odd without explanation? Maybe this was her chance.
No more losing to Judy Weisberg and Little River. No more Kendall being disappointed in her. Better yet, if Shelly became the fastest swimmer on her team, she could actually help Kendall achieve her goal to win the Bayside Regional Trophy and throw the championship party.
This wish could fix everything.
“You . . . you can help me win my next race?” she stammered.
