Strangers for One Summer

One

Summer

I have mastered the art of avoidance.

It comes so naturally to me now, that I don’t even remember what actually facing my problems looks like.

I’m self-aware just enough to understand this, but not enough to want to change it. Which is why I’m hiding out in the natatorium and using the excuse of “training” as the reason I’m mindlessly floating around in the pool.

Classes for everyone on the Kingswell campus have officially been dismissed. College students piled into cars or cabs to get to the airport to go anywhere but here for the summer.

I should be doing the same.

My bags should be packed and River should be waiting for me in that usual way he does. Leaning against his car, the door already opened because god forbid any woman open it herself.

It’s a cute gesture up until he spends the next hour pouting just because he was too slow so I opened my own door.

But none of this is going to happen because I’ve decided not to go home for the summer. Instead, I’m choosing to stay on campus to get some extra training. It sounds like a better use of my time rather than constantly worrying about Dad and how his chemo is going.

All I can do is hope that it’s working the way it should and pray that I don’t get that call that he’s gone.

I really should be a better daughter. But what am I if I’m not useful? I can’t just sit there beside his bed and do nothing.

Papi says that just me being there helps but I don’t see it that way. Helping means taking action and unfortunately, I can’t kick cancer’s ass. And besides, my best friend Lily is currently on her way to spend most of the summer on a cruise her grandparents dragged her on.

Her lack of presence back in Morrisville, Vermont only gives me more of a reason to not go home.

Other than me, the pool is empty. It seems like the whole building is at this point, as if everyone couldn’t wait to get out of here.

Good.

I don’t need another person asking me what my plans for the summer are, just for me to tell them I’ll be doing preseason training. Then I’m usually met with a concerned look because who the hell would choose college swimming over a summer of freedom?

Me, apparently.

I’ve been floating on my back, staring up at the metal pillars for a good hour now.

With my ears engulfed in the water, the sound of the pool filter is muffled.

Usually, I’d be wearing my black Kingswell’s Griffins swimsuit with our gold logo in the center of my chest. But today I’m only pretending to be productive, so I’m wearing my purple one-piece instead.

The season has been over for a couple of months now, but it still feels like I practically live in this goddamn pool. And yet, I somehow don’t find myself ever getting tired of it.

I mean, I get tired of a lot of other things. Like the meal prepping. Calorie counting. The dryland training. Or the sound of Coach Miller’s whistle.

But I don’t mind being strict with myself.

Not when I have a scholarship to keep.

The work pays off but sometimes I do just miss swimming in a pool and it not mean anything other than feeling the calmness that takes over my body whenever I’m in the water.

All that other stuff is worth it as long as I get to the Olympics someday.

Yep. Me. Summer Ingram-Ruiz.

The Indian girl adopted by two men who raised her in Vermont of all places. Papi and Dad always told me to aim for a life beyond the universe if I have to.

I reminded my parents about their words of wisdom when they asked why I wasn’t coming home for summer break. “I can always improve my time,” I told them over the phone. “There’s always more I can try to achieve.”

Like I very much want to achieve avoiding the guilt that’s eating away at me.

“Hey, stranger!”

River’s shouting is muffled, but I know his voice enough to know that it belongs to him without having to look away from the ceiling.

I’m surprised he’s even here. We’ve been subtly avoiding each other for a few months now. Neither of us will admit it and we like to pretend it’s not happening, but sometimes it feels like the distance between us is becoming inevitable.

Before looking in River’s direction, I plunge my entire body into the water to wet my face and give myself time to focus my energy on not thinking about all the things left unsaid between us.

I come back up, now facing River. He’s squatting near the closest edge to me. His baggy jeans hang loose on his hips and he’s thrown his flannel over his shoulder, as if he just realized on his walk inside the building that it’s too hot today for unnecessary pieces of clothing.

I can tell that he came straight here from work because he hasn’t bothered to take off his Metric’s nametag.

“Hey.” I begin to swim over to him. The closer I get, the stronger the scent of coffee grounds stuck to his clothes becomes over the chlorine.

“Any luck today?” he asks, gesturing toward the pool.

He knows my ever-moving goalpost when it comes to my swim time.

Whatever number it shows on the stopwatch never seems to be enough.

At this point, I’m convinced the high I feel comes from the process of reaching a goal. Not reaching the goal itself.

“No.” I shake my head and grab onto the edge of the pool, not quite ready to get out.

“Well, good thing you have all summer, right?”

I’m sure he considers this teasing—he usually does—however, I would put him in the asshole category right now.

I glare at him and he playfully glares back because he knows damn well what he’s doing. “I’m not going to change my mind, but if you want to head back home then by all means, be my guest.”

“Me?” He points at himself. “Lils isn’t there and if you’re not going either then there’d be no point. I refuse to put myself through the misery that is my parents. If anything, I have a perfect reason to avoid that place just like you.”

I splash him lightly. Water droplets darken the fabric of his jeans but he doesn’t seem to care. “I’m not avoiding anything.”

“I should call you out.” He grins. “But like the good friend I am, I’m going to pretend to believe the lie that just came out of your mouth.”

I anchor my palms on the edge of the pool and hoist myself out of the water with ease, plopping down right next to River. His eyes follow my movements as if it’s a habit that he can’t seem to break. Even after what happened between us this past December.

If college has taught me one thing so far, it’s that for being best friends, there sure is a lot that River and I don’t talk about.

“Think whatever you want.” I wipe the dripping water from my eyes. “But I’m telling the truth.”

River hums, but now he’s tilting his head to the side, his dark brown eyes watching me. My own gaze drops down to my body, curious about what he could possibly be looking at. Nope, nothing inappropriate has popped out.

I look back up at him. “What?”

“You weren’t training,” he states, as if it’s a fact.

And technically it is but I don’t know how he knows that. At least not until he points to his head.

“No swim cap or goggles.”

I did in fact not bother to snag those from my gym bag, as this swim session was only meant for me to float around in my self-pity. That, and I hoped the ethereality I tend to experience when I’m in the water would carry into my thoughts and take them away.

“Oh.” I touch the ends of my hair, choosing to pretend that this is a revelation to me. “I was training.” I find myself lying again, so effortlessly. “I just decided to relax in the water a little before heading out.”

River watches me for a second too long. The pillars have captured my attention yet again, but I can still feel his eyes on me.

The attention has me shifting in my spot before River nods and moves to stand up.

He reaches his hand out for me to take and I do so without hesitation, but once I’m on my feet, he quickly pulls away from me.

River keeps his distance as I walk over to the bleachers to grab a towel and wipe my body down.

“I know you keep saying that I’m not going to change your mind.” Any playfulness in River’s voice is now replaced with genuine concern that I really don’t want to dissect. “But if you do, just say the word and I’ll drive you up there.”

The corner of my lips tugs up, even though less than ten minutes ago I wanted to do anything but smile. I can’t help it. River just has that effect on me.

“I’m fine.” I’m reminding myself more than telling him. “I told Dad and Papi that I’d make it up to them by taking the trip out for Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

River sits down on the edge of the bleachers, leaning back on his palms. I try not to notice how comfortable his lap looks right now.

“Let me guess.” River taps his finger against his chin. “I’m going to be the chauffeur for both of these trips.”

I scoff. “Yeah, duh. Why else do you think Lily and I helped you get that car?”

Lola. That’s what River likes to call his blue 2007 Toyota Camry.

I try not to tease him too much for it, only because Lily, he, and I spent the summer after freshman year of high school working just to save enough money for a car. River was the only one willing to get his license at the time, so Lily and I agreed to help save up.

With the understanding that River was aware that he would become our personal chauffeur.

We spent that summer mowing lawns, serving ice cream, and selling autographs of hockey star Frederick “Mastermind” Hollis—Lily’s grandfather.

The hustle was going great until Freddie found out why Lily was having him sign random things for weeks. That and our eBay account got banned because people thought that we were selling frauds.

River rolls his eyes. “Fine, I guess I can do that. But just so you know, you and Lils are going to have to share custody because I’m taking turns hiding out at both of your houses.”

I tie my towel around my waist. “That’s not going to happen, dude. Then I’m going to have to deal with your parents coming over and asking where you are.”

“Just tell them I died.”

“No. Then they might try to resurrect you from the dead just to give you an earful for not telling them first.”

River throws his head back in laughter and the sound engulfs me. “Well, obviously. How else are they going to tell me I did it wrong if they don’t know about it.”

Mr. and Mrs. Choi have never had a problem telling a single soul what they think about them. Or what you’re doing wrong and how you should be doing it.

It’s a hit or miss with them.

One moment they’re inviting you in and stuffing your face full of homemade kimchi and kimbap. Then the next thing you know, you’re having a sit-down with Mrs. Choi about how to properly dress as a woman.

That, or you simply just have to be River and they’ll start scolding you about needing to take your life seriously.

Ask me how I know.

River taps a random melody against the denim of his jeans. “I’m just hoping that by not coming around anymore, they’ll open their eyes. Have an awakening of some sorts.”

“Yeah.” I sit down next to him. “And what kind of awakening is that?”

“That I don’t play by any man’s rules.”

And here comes the theatrics.

River puts a hand over his chest and drops his voice, as if he’s giving a speech. “I march to the beat of my own drum. And I strive to remain in the greatness of my own confinements.”

I look at him, blinking.

Then I decide to play the role of his parents, because the death glare he gives me when I do so is amusing.

“Jaejoon,” I sigh, resting my hand on his shoulder and pulling out the birth name. “You have so much potential. I don’t understand why you feel the need to waste it.”

He swats my hand away. “You’re too good at that,” he groans and I laugh.

“I’m just messing with you.” I feel the need to admit because even though he’s learned to laugh about it, I know the pressure his parents put on him can be too much sometimes. “I’m glad you’re staying. I think I’d start to go stir crazy if I was left to my own accord.”

“And I’m sure you’d die of complete boredom without me,” he retorts.

“Sure.” I pat his thigh. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. I’m going to go change.”

River offers me a mock salute. “I’ll be out in the car then.”

“That air conditioner better be on.”

“I know.” He waves me off. “You need it the temperature of Antarctica wherever you go.”

I stand up and head in the direction of the locker rooms. I begin walking away but shout over my shoulder. “I run hot, River.”

I’m further away from River now so I can’t quite make out what he said but once I make it down the hallway and out of sight, I stop and lean against the wall. Did I hear him correctly?

“I run hot, River.”

“Don’t I know it, Summer.”