Day 35
Sidney
I’m not mad anymore—not really—but the drive is still quiet and awkward.
What are we supposed to talk about when we don’t know where we even stand with each other?
It feels like with that one bit of info—that Asher might not have started things with me for the right reasons—we took ten steps back.
And the car ride doesn’t help. Because I have three hours to think of all the horrible thoughts that have resurfaced over the last few days.
Why would Asher actually want to date me?
Why would he like me after years of going out of my way to make sure he didn’t?
And if he doesn’t like me, then why is he doing all of this?
What is the endgame to making me fall for him?
The thoughts marinate and grow and become living, ugly things by the time we get off of the highway and reach the little town where Asher lives.
As we drive he points out everything we pass, like I’m here for a tour.
And I don’t want to be interested—I try my very best not to be—but I’m dying to see all of these places.
The tiny little place where Asher gets coffee in the morning, and the weird little antique shop where he worked after school his junior and senior year.
We pass his high school, and even loop through the back parking lot to where the athletic center is.
Asher pulls into a spot and cuts the engine, pushing his door open before I can even react.
I crane my neck to see him outside his door. “What are you doing?”
“You can’t have a tour of my favorite places without seeing my pool.”
“Your pool?”
“Just get out of the car, Sid. You know you’re going to. The chlorine is calling you.”
He’s right. Of all of the places here, the pool is where I usually imagine Asher.
I saw a picture of him once, in a weak moment when I decided I’d look him up online.
He was standing on top of a diving block, his arms stretched forward, his legs tensed.
That image is burned into my brain, just like the need I’ve always had to see Asher in the pool, racing through the water.
When I’m outside the car, he grabs my hand and leads me up the sidewalk to the brown brick building.
There’s something about a pool building that smells like home to me.
Every pool is different, but they all smell the same, and the scent nestles into my nose like it’s welcoming me. Telling me I belong here.
You usually get to a pool through the locker rooms, so I wonder if he’s going to drag me through the men’s, until he takes a sharp turn down a hallway and we enter what looks like an office.
There are two small rooms connected by a glass window that takes up most of the wall, and beyond that another large window and door lead to the pool area.
At the far desk a short round man sits in a white polo and khaki shorts.
Beyond the door I can hear the telltale squeals of kids’ swim classes.
“Coach!” Ash yells as we step into the little room. I hang a step back and receive a tug forward, propelling me next to him as the man looks up from his desk.
“Ash!” The man’s eyes are lit up and he stands more quickly than I would have thought possible. “They toss you out of Oakwood before you even started? I’ve got a guard spot open if you’re looking.” He winks and squeezes Ash’s shoulder, and then his eyes swing to me.
“This is Sidney, the swimmer from Eastwood I told you about.”
My eyes go to Asher but he keeps his on his coach, who is stretching his hand out to me. “Nice to meet you, Sidney. I’ve heard great things about you. You’ve got a great coach over there. You and Ash are a big win for Oakwood’s program.”
I don’t know what to say, so I squeak out a thank-you and shake his hand.
“Taking her in to see your pool?” Coach says with a smile.
“That okay? I promise not to traumatize the kids.”
Coach laughs and stretches an arm out toward the door. Asher leads and I follow behind him, out into the humid air of the pool area. Just as I cross onto the tile, he pops his head back in. “You mind if we borrow a few training props? I’ll get them back before school starts.”
“Sure, take what you need,” Coach says, as if Asher didn’t even need to ask. “You using your vacation to train?”
“Sidney has a record to break.” Asher grins.
Coach closes the small gap between us and slaps a hand against Asher’s shoulder, giving it a rough squeeze. “Can’t ask for a better summer coach,” he says, and Asher seems to light up at the praise.
Asher gives the coach another half-hug, and pulls me farther from the door.
On the wall to our left, a built-in tile bench stretches across the width of the large space.
Asher sits down and motions for me to join him.
Ahead of us, six lanes stretch out like watery roads.
A row of diving blocks rises up in front of us, and I can’t help but think of that picture.
He stretches an arm out toward the far left lane. “That’s where I broke the school record for the two-hundred-yard fly my sophomore year.” He points to the middle lane. “And that’s where I broke the state record.”
My whole body twists toward him, shocked by this revelation. “Seriously? You broke a state record?”
“Ouch.” Asher throws a hand of mock anguish up to his chest as I turn back toward the pool. “Ouch, Sid.”
I poke him in the ribs with my elbow. “Oh stop, I didn’t mean it that way and you know it. How did I not hear about this? My mom tells me the dumbest stuff about you, and she didn’t tell me this?”
“I made my mom promise she wouldn’t tell her.”
“You didn’t want me to know?” He would have to be deaf not to hear the hurt in my voice.
“I—” He stretches his legs out toward the pool, crossing one foot over the other.
“I wanted to tell you myself, I guess.” He folds his legs back in and sets his elbows on his knees.
This is what he’d look like between races, watching his teammates, waiting for his turn.
Less clothes. “Which sounds delusional, because we didn’t even talk, and you hated me.
But I wanted to tell you.” He turns and smiles at me, but there’s something new there, something a little guarded.
There’s a self-consciousness I’m not used to seeing.
“I didn’t hate you.”
He lets out a little grunt that says, Sure you didn’t.
Another elbow to his ribs shuts him up. “So tell me all about it. I want to hear everything.”
Asher tells me about the meet. About how close the race was and how his lungs burned and he had no idea if he was even in the lead.
How the win wasn’t as dramatic as he would have thought—how you’d think it would have been deafening or something, like how it is in movies, but the swim meets aren’t that popular in a small school.
But then his teammates hoisted him up and threw him in the deep end, and everyone went out to celebrate. And then he called me.
That one missed call. The call I was so sure was a pocket dial.
It was the biggest day of Asher’s life, and he called me.
I can’t even wrap my brain around that. It’s hard to think that this place—somewhere I’ve never even been before—could have such an impact on us.
On who the two of us are. Who we could have been a long time ago if I wasn’t the world’s pettiest person.
“Do you mind if we swing by my house before we head to the party?” Asher looks a little nervous when he asks, just as we’re walking out of the building. “I need to grab Todd’s present, and I want to show you something.”
Asher
I open the door and let Sidney take two steps into my room as I pray that I didn’t leave anything weird lying around.
If there’s a pair of old underwear shoved somewhere, my chances are probably shot.
Suddenly I’m thankful that my mom makes us deep clean the house before we leave.
No one wants to come home to a dirty house is her motto.
Plus, I’ve been packing for college, purging stuff I don’t need, and tossing half of my belongings into boxes for my mom to sell at her garage sale.
My room actually looks a little neater than usual.
It looks more like Sidney’s room at the house than mine.
“This is actually why I wanted you to come with me this weekend.” I hold a hand out and encourage Sidney to step into my room. “Well, part of the reason.”
“To wow me with your bedroom?” Her sassy tone has me hopeful. Things already felt different after we left the pool, but I still have some lost ground to make up for.
“Not exactly.”
Sidney takes two more steps into the room, as if the floor could open up in front of her at any moment, and I stay in the doorway, letting her.
It goes against every instinct I have to let Sidney snoop through my room, but I know this is part of winning her trust back.
Letting her see the real me—the me she doesn’t get to see ten months out of the year.
The me that doesn’t hide the fact that I’ve pretty much been in love with her since the first summer we met.
She glances back at me, eyebrows popping up and a smile tugging at her lips, and I nod toward my stuff.
“Go for it,” I say. “Lurk your little heart out.” I try to keep my voice calm, as if I’m not panicking about how this is actually going to unfold.
There’s a chance she decides that I’m completely unhinged to have had a crush on her for this long. I’m not entirely sure I’m not.