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I STAND AT THE EDGE of the pool looking into the crystal-blue water as it shimmers in the overhead lighting, a gentle ripple running through it. The smell of chlorine hangs in the air, bringing on waves of nostalgia. I can hear the heat blasting in this large rec center facility, but standing here in just a dark-green one-piece with my hair tucked inside a black latex cap, I feel chilly from all the nerves running through me.
“You better not have had me come out here at the crack of dawn for nothing, Price,” Graham says, standing next to me. He’s in a pair of black swim trunks, his lovely naked upper body on full display. He looks like a model for a Doctors Who Swim calendar.
“I’m going to do it,” I say, looking down at the pool in front of me.
The challenge today is to do something that scares you. I knew what I wanted to do almost immediately when Morgan sent the text last night.
Swim. In a pool. No wading—actual laps.
I texted Graham and told him, and right away he said he would come with me. I wasn’t going to ask him, but when he volunteered, it felt like it was the final piece to fall into place.
I hadn’t seen him since Monday night, and I wasn’t sure if our discussion after pickleball scared him off. But here we are two days later, at the rec center indoor pool, the place mostly empty save a lifeguard in red standing on the opposite side, and I’m about to jump in.
Probably. Unless I chicken out and run away.
“Why does this scare you?” Graham asks.
I take a breath. “I don’t know,” I tell him. But I do know. It’s a reminder of everything I lost all those years ago—my scholarship, my future plans. Swimming was everything to me. And not being able to do it competitively was a hard pill to swallow. It was my life for so long, and then in the blink of an eye, it wasn’t.
“But you used to love it, right?”
“I did,” I tell him.
“There’s only one way to find out if you still do.” He points to the water.
I move closer to the edge, my toes barely hanging over the cement floor; the rough texture of the pool deck beneath my bare feet brings back so many memories. It’s solid and reassuring. So is the man standing next to me right now.
“You’ve got this, Price,” Graham says.
I take a deep breath, pull my goggles down over my eyes, and then close them, and before I can overthink it any more, I dive in. The air rushes past me as I descend, and suddenly I’m submerged, the water enveloping me.
I break through the surface, taking in a big gulp of air, and though I haven’t done this in years, everything comes back to me in an instant. I push off from the side of the pool and start a basic stroke down the lane. I feel the water resisting my movements, the burning in my muscles starting almost instantly because it’s been so long. Too long.
Each stroke propels me forward, and the rhythmic swooshing of the water in my ears is like a long-forgotten friend. I’m swimming.
I’m swimming! It’s really happening. I feel it with every synchronized movement of my arms and legs.
As I reach the end of the lane I surface, and feeling breathless, I turn in the water to see Graham swimming toward me. I smile to myself, feeling a huge weight fall off my shoulders. Why did I wait so long to do this?
I rip my goggles off my face and I wipe my eyes, sudden tears mixing with the chlorinated water, my legs still moving to keep me afloat.
Graham reaches the end, coming up for air.
“You did it,” he says through heavy breathing. He wipes the water out of his eyes, and droplets fall off his close-trimmed beard. His hand is holding on to the ledge of the pool to keep him steady.
“I did,” I say, and more tears squeeze out of my eyes.
A look of concern washes over his face. “Are you okay? Did it hurt your back?”
I shake my head, unable to answer. Tears are rolling down my face now—I can’t wipe them away fast enough.
“Did you hate it?”
“No,” I say, the word coming out like a sob. “The opposite.”
He smiles, and reaching his arm out, he grabs me by the waist and pulls me toward him. I go to him easily, wrapping my arms around his neck. He keeps ahold of the side of the pool with one hand, the other moving to my back as he pulls me close.
“Way to go, Price,” he says in my ear.
