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nineteen

“You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” Clementine said. She lightly slapped both her hands on my cheeks. “Wake up.”

If only it was that easy.

After staying up so late with Sebastian last night, I’d been a walking zombie all day. I fell asleep in public speaking class and only got away with it because Ainsley covered for me, and by the time I started pulling on my swimsuit for this meet, I thought I might collapse.

“Alright team, huddle up!” Coach called.

We shuffled over, the slap of wet feet on tile echoing through the expansive room.

Coach launched into a pep talk, something about effort and staying focused and building momentum for the season, but all I could think about was the stands—and if Sebastian was there somewhere, watching.

The turnout for a swim meet wasn’t nearly as big as for the soccer game—and definitely not even close to as big as for the hockey game or for the football games—but the crowd was big enough that I wasn’t sure I would be able to see everybody who was there.

I kept staring over the shoulders of my teammates to scan the crowd, hoping to make eye contact with those brown eyes that would make me feel like everything was going to be okay.

Because right now, all I could feel was dread in the pit of my stomach—dread about this meet and about the date I would have to go on after it.

Sebastian was probably somewhere in the crowd. He knew the time of the meet, which meant he must have been planning to get excused from class to come down and support Ainsley. But on every pass over the crowd that I did, his face was missing.

The people I did spot were my parents, both dressed in their work clothes and sitting upright like statues.

Mom’s expression was blank, her hands folded in her lap like she was at a funeral.

I told her once that most parents looked enthusiastic for their kids when they came to their games, hoping that she would act that way to fit in.

I did everything short of telling her that she didn’t look perfect enough when she was sitting there, because I knew actually saying it would make her think I was mocking her.

Her only response had been to sniff and say that it wasn’t dignified to act like that in public.

So while all my teammates got cheered on, I got stony silence.

It went well with the critiques after I left the pool— your dive was sloppy, your arm was too slow, you could have won if only…

Neither of them were swimmers but it didn’t stop them from throwing around words like they were experts.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Clem asked as we broke and walked to the end of the pool. “You look like you’re gonna be sick.”

“I kind of feel like I might be.” I tried to make it sound like a joke, but it came out flat. Clementine stared at me impassively. I forced a smile on my face, trying to push all thoughts of my parents, Thomas, and Sebastian out of my mind. “I’m fine. I can still swim.”

She bit her lip and nodded, but she didn’t look convinced. “Probably just nerves. First meet jitters.”

It wasn’t nerves. I knew that. But I nodded along like she was right, because that was easier than telling her how I was feeling right now.

I didn’t even remember what event I’d been assigned.

Backstroke? Butterfly? My brain felt like cotton.

Everything else was loud—my heart, my thoughts, the echo of water slapping the pool deck—but none of it had anything to do with swimming.

I was thinking about Sebastian. Again.

And I hated that I was thinking about Sebastian, because I was sure he wasn’t thinking about me.

Thomas was the one who should be on my mind, but every time I thought about him and the date we would be going on in six hours, I shivered.

So I tried to think about anything else, but my mind kept falling back to Sebastian.

The blank look on his face when he told me how his father had been cheating for years.

The disdain in his voice when he said Tiffany thought their relationship was a game.

The tension that surrounded him when he admitted he resented Lavender for telling their mom.

I didn’t know how I expected myself to perform when all I could think about was the pressure he had on his shoulders, and if there was any way I could ease it.

When I stepped up to the block, my chest felt like it was closing in. My cap was too tight. My goggles pinched. I adjusted them, then adjusted again out of nerves. The official blew the whistle. I bent low. My muscles were trembling—not with adrenaline, but with something heavy and slow.

The buzzer sounded.

I dove.

And the second I hit the water, I lost everything.

The cold was a slap across my whole body.

My breath knocked out of me in a useless whoosh of bubbles.

I kicked, but it felt wrong. My limbs didn’t know what they were doing.

My arms came down too hard, too soon, pulling me off rhythm.

I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe right. Couldn’t move fast enough.

I felt like I was flailing while everybody got ahead of me, and by the time I reached the end and got myself to focus—got my body to work the way it was supposed to—I was so far behind that there was no chance of me catching up.

I started swimming just to finish. I knew I couldn’t place.

I wasn’t even trying to win anymore. I was just trying not to drown in front of half the school.

By the time I hit the final wall and pulled myself out of the pool, I already knew: dead last. On the bright side, it wasn’t a relay. At least I hadn’t ruined it for anyone else.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Ainsley said, pressing a towel into my hand and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “You tried.”

I knew she was trying to help but the words weren’t what I needed right now. I just needed to get out of here. To be anywhere else .

“You gave it your all,” Reese added, and if I wasn’t so distracted by my own thoughts, I might have smiled at the fact that she’d spoken at all.

I wrapped the towel around my shoulders and headed straight for Coach. “Sorry. I’m not feeling great. Maybe I should’ve sat out.”

It wasn’t a real option. Our team was too small for somebody else to take my place. She gave me a small nod and patted my shoulder. “It happens.”

When I glanced back at the bleachers, my parents were already standing, stiff and silent.

Watching me like I was a mess they’d have to clean up later.

Dread pooled in the pit of my stomach, even more than before, and whatever breaths I swallowed down only increased my nausea rather than stifle it.

I lingered as long as I could with my friends in the locker room, trying to delay the inevitable.

Even though I knew what I would be walking into, the criticisms and remarks that played out in my head even without them saying it to me yet because I knew my parents like the back of my hand.

It had to come out eventually. And twenty minutes later in the parking lot was that exact moment.

“You embarrassed yourself,” Mom snapped as soon as I got in the car. I dropped my swim bag on the seat beside me and stared out the window so I didn’t have to look at her. “In front of all those people. In front of our friends.”

“Angela,” Dad said in a warning voice as he pulled out of the parking spot. “Maybe we should wait until we get home.”

Like that would be any better. Here I was delaying the inevitable by hiding out in the locker room only for my Dad to think it’d be best to ream me out in the safety of our home.

Because having the conversation anywhere else would make the world see that we weren’t perfect and that would be a tragedy, wouldn’t it?

“No, I won’t wait until we get home!” She twisted in the passenger seat so she could look at me. “Do you have any idea how you made us look?”

“Like your daughter isn’t perfect?” I suggested to the window, still refusing to look her in the eyes.

“Don’t give me attitude.”

My fists curled, nails digging into my soft skin and I tried to focus on the pain instead of the anger in my chest. Maybe it was my fault for hating how distant she’d been lately, only asking how I was then walking off if I responded with anything other than great.

At least now, she seemed to care, even if it wasn’t the way I was looking for.

I wondered if she had any idea what I’d been up to this week.

Did she know that I’d befriended Ainsley?

That I’d spent two evenings in a row with Sebastian?

She probably would, if she bothered to look.

“How many times have we told you, Eleanor? You have to be prepared! You have to show your best for our family. Nothing less. It’s the least we ask of you. I don’t understand how it could be so difficult.”

“You wouldn’t know,” I muttered, mostly to myself. It was a crapshoot whether she would comment on the words or pretend she didn’t hear them, preferring to pretend that I wouldn’t speak back.

“What did your mother say about attitude?” Dad asked, apparently not in the mood to ignore my words, even if Mom might have .

“It’s not attitude!” I snapped, finally looking forward. I glared right back at Mom, the words barreling out of me despite the way they tremble. “It’s just a fact. I did my best, but I had an off day. Everyone does, so why can’t I?”

“No. You weren’t prepared,” Mom said, completely ignoring what I said.

Because, of course, the Grahams couldn’t have an off day.

That was for other people. Lesser people who weren’t just walking, talking machines.

“We expected better of you, Eleanor. We got off work early to come see you perform, not to see you mess up. Why should we even bother if that’s how you present yourself? ”

My teeth gritted, fire in my veins, tears at the edges of my eyes pricking painfully as I tried to keep them in. Why couldn’t she just accept that I did my best? It was always a competition to them, always a fight to be the best of everyone instead of just doing the best that I could.

Outside, the street blurred. I was exhausted and I felt so tired and I just wanted to be alone .

My mind carried me back to the field last night, to the way Sebastian and I played and played without another care in the world.

I wished I could go back there now, could be anywhere but here in this car.

Was this how he felt all the time? Living with the weight of his family secrets on his shoulders, just trying to hold himself together until he could finally be alone and break?

Mom tapped her manicured nails on the center console and the clack of them on the surface set me further on edge. “You didn’t even look upset. You just walked off like it didn’t matter.”

Even if they didn’t listen, I still hissed, “Because if I looked upset, you’d say I was being dramatic! ”

There was no winning with them. Ever.

Dad sighed from the driver’s seat. “No one’s out to get you. We’re just telling you to do better.”

“I know I need to do better!” My voice cracked. My final attempt at sharing my true feelings but I didn’t care anymore. “I know I swam terribly, I know I’m not perfect, but can you just—for once—be on my side instead of acting like I ruined your reputation.”

“It’s the reputation of our family, Nora. I know you don’t understand at your age but?—”

“No, I don’t understand!” I yelled. The car slowed into our driveway and my hand landed on the door handle without thought. “I don’t understand how you can put yourself and your stupid reputation above your own daughter!”

The second Dad pushed the car into park, I threw the door open and jumped out, running straight into the house.

I didn’t care if it was rude to not listen to my mom’s response.

She would probably comment on it later, tell me how children weren’t the ones who decided when a conversation was done, but I just couldn’t bring myself to care anymore.

By the time I got up to my room, the tears flowed freely, the knot in my throat searingly painful.

I could cry in here but I didn’t want them to hear.

What good would that do for our family reputation?

I gave myself twenty minutes. That was how long I allowed myself to wallow and cry.

Then, I snuck back out of my room—happy to see my parents were nowhere to be found—and grabbed my swim bag from where somebody had left it in the foyer to go through my usual post-meet routine of putting everything away.

By the time Clementine called me an hour later to see when she could come over to help me get ready for the date, I’d washed the tears off my face and could manage a convincing smile again.

My mom could make me feel like I wasn’t perfect all she wanted—but I kept our secrets just fine. If Sebastian could hold his family together on his own, so could I.