Chapter 13
brEAKING THE ICE (I LIED. IT’S WATER)
SEYOON
The water is freezing this early in the morning, but I’m committed to swimming three laps around Summit Lake before today’s Survival of the Skillest challenge.
Swimming’s always been an outlet for me.
Stressed? Do some crawl strokes until you’re too tired to think.
Angry? Scream under the water until the lifeguard tells you to quit that, what’s wrong with you?
So I keep pushing, driving my arms over my head and into the water, kicking my legs hard enough to ward off the numbing cold.
Swim season is in the winter, which means shivering through laps is muscle memory.
But before coming here, I hadn’t swum since state championships in February—which happened to be the last sporting event Appa drove me to.
Umma had picked up an extra shift that evening and wasn’t able to come, so when he dropped me off, I did something I never had before: I asked him to stay and watch.
He paused for a long time before eventually agreeing, telling me to go on ahead and he’d find parking first. The aquatic center was huge, with unending rows of bleachers high above the pools, so I couldn’t spot him through my dark-tinted goggles when I was down in the lanes. I got second place in the 800m.
He was waiting by the front entrance for me when I finished. On the drive back, the only thing he mentioned was that the girl in lane five beat me by a single stroke.
But the way the morning sun is rising over Mount Rainier’s silhouette doesn’t remind me of state champs.
It reminds me of learning to swim in the Willamette River as a kid.
The water was just as icy then, and the sky a similar shade of slate blue.
Umma would take me every morning during my summer break before she had to go to work, so we went really early, when it was still dark and cold. But we went every day.
Not for the first time since getting here, I think of Umma. I wonder if she’s lonely. I hope she’s eating okay. I miss her.
On the last leg of my second lap, I glide by the docks and hear a splash, then a muffled “Fuck!” while under the water.
I pause and look back. Hanging onto the dock for dear life is Dean: shirtless and shivering like a drowning poodle.
“H-hi,” he says between chattering teeth. “Wanna race?”
“What?”
Wincing, he slowly lowers the rest of his body into the water and swims toward me. Or tries to. He can stay afloat at least, which is… something.
“Do you want to race?” he asks again when he’s a foot in front of me, like I couldn’t hear him the first time. Instead of answering, I cross my arms and glare at him. He watches me tread water just by kicking my legs. “Wow. That’s impressive.”
“You’re ruining my relaxing morning swim,” I say.
“How could this possibly be relaxing? The water’s freezing.”
“Then, get out.”
I start kicking myself backward, still crossing my arms and glaring at him. Dean pouts—pouts, God, he actually is a wet puppy—and follows after me at a slower pace.
“You said you wanted to race. Winner can choose our alliance name, right?” Dean stops, letting me swim farther away. A smile lights up his face. “Look—you win.”
I scoff. “That was when I still wanted to team up with you. Besides, don’t give me a win. It’s only worth something if you actually try.”
“But we both know you’d crush me, so I’d rather not drown trying to prove it.”
I finally stop floating away. Dean paddles over. His blond curls are fully matted to his head, and he pushes them up and out of his face. A shy, fluttering smile forms. It’s a while before he can meet my eyes. “Um. Hi.”
My gaze darts to his dimples, then back. “What are you doing here?”
“Trying to make amends?”
“Is that a question?”
“No? I mean…”
Dean sighs, averting his gaze. The few birds awake at this hour chirp lazily in the surrounding trees.
The waves of the lake slosh against the shore.
Besides that, camp is asleep. It’s probably not six yet; filming hours haven’t started.
The rare moment of privacy feels too intimate for that reason.
I wait for him to speak, exhausting my kiddie-sized pool of patience.
He finally does: “You know, my sister Meredith was a Girl Scout, too.”
“This apology is ass.”
Dean gives me a look that says I’m getting there. “She loved it. She was amazing, obviously, because she’s amazing at everything she does. My dad was so excited about it that he immediately signed me up for Boy Scouts, too.”
My eyebrows raise. “Then, how come you can’t tie a knot?”
“Because I quit after a week.”
“That still doesn’t explain the shoelaces.”
He rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “My dad let me quit. He said it was okay, but I could tell he was disappointed. So, even though I hated it, I asked Meredith to show me a few skills she learned. I thought I could surprise him. Make him happy.”
“Your poor sister,” I mutter. “How’d that go?”
“She said I was a lost cause and gave up after a day.” Dean finally looks up from the water to meet my eyes then.
“I hate to admit it, but I… I suck at this. This rugged, outdoors, survival stuff, and…” He runs both his hands across his face, sighing into his palms. “And you don’t.
You’re smart, and you’re better at this than me, but instead of being grateful that you tried to teach me, I was a jerk.
I was ashamed and frustrated, and I took that frustration out on you.
I’m sorry. I don’t deserve it, but will you give me another chance? Please?”
No one’s ever called me smart before.
Looking at him, I imagine Dean as a kid, his clumsy fingers smaller and even more uncoordinated, being the only one in his troop to struggle knotting a rope.
What did he fill his time with when his sister was at Girl Scouts?
Did he have to sit in the car while his dad dropped her off for trips?
Was he quiet on the rides home, so that maybe his dad could pretend he had dropped off both of them?
The girl in lane five who beat me at swim championships was in track, too, I found out.
She ran the 200m just like me. This spring at districts, we ended up in the same heat, and I crushed her by four and half seconds.
I got gold, but Appa had already left us by that point.
He didn’t stay and watch. I never got second chances with him.
Umma didn’t either. Neither of us are the kind of people that life gives endless opportunities to—that’s why I have to get things right the first time. That’s why I have to win.
“Alright. It’s cold,” I eventually say. “Let’s head back.”
I purposefully paddle slower so that Dean can keep up, trying not to make it obvious, but when we reach the dock and pull ourselves up, he shoots me a shy, grateful smile as we dry off on the edge.
“I hate being bad at things, too,” I say, not as eloquent as I wanted, but there it is. “Failing sucks. Realizing you’re not good enough is the worst. I’ve been there.”
“I can’t imagine you not being good enough,” Dean says offhandedly as he scrunches lake water from his curls.
“You’d be the only one,” I reply. Tucking a wet strand of hair behind my ear, I mutter, “I’m sorry I gave up on you so easily yesterday. You’re not a lost cause.”
I don’t dare look over, but I hear a smile in the lilt of his voice when Dean says, “Thanks.”
I pull my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on them as I gaze below.
The water is so clear that I can see the multicolored rocks layered across the lake bed, distorted only by the rippling waves on the surface.
I think about begging Appa to watch my swim meet.
I think about how long Dean must have waited for me to circle the lake before he could join.
I’ve failed plenty of times, more than I’d like to admit and more than Dean could probably guess. It’s nice to be thought of as good enough for once.
“Seydean,” I test out.
“Yeah?” he replies.
“No, not say, Dean. Sey-Dean. Like our names. Team Seydean. Has a nice ring to it, yeah?”
He gets a look on his face like he’s trying not to laugh, but he successfully holds it in. “You won naming rights, fair and square. Does that mean… ?”
I hold a fist out between us. “It means I’m giving you another chance to prove you want to work together. And I’m only offering this because I’m the kindest, most patient person on this mountain, but I don’t do third chances. Got it?”
Dean grins, maybe the first unabashed one I’ve seen from him. He knocks his knuckles against mine. “Yes, ma’am, Scoutmaster Shin.”