Georgia rambles, “I’ve always thought you guys were perfect for each other but that you weren’t ready yet. Like, you needed to grow a little more.”
She’s not wrong. I think I could definitely come to feel more for him. I mean, I already love him as a friend, but maybe I like him more than that. But there’s no guarantee he would feel the same.
One time at Junior Nationals, I swam against Deanna Rodriguez, a fifteen-year-old who had made the overall US National Team. Right before the start, I questioned whether I should even bother swimming the race, because there was a high probability I would lose. What did I do?
I dove in.
If I were to look deep inside myself and figure out I want more with Levi, I would tell him. But do I?
When Georgia goes home later that night, I swipe on my phone to text Levi.
Good night, I type.
Immediately he writes back Good night M.
• • •
Monday morning while waiting for music appreciation class to start, Hunter and I are messing around like we’re back in elementary school.
Hunter plays “Twinkle, Twinkle” on the xylophone, and I’m going to town on the triangle. Our music teacher dresses like a hippie who never left Woodstock and wants us to become one with ourselves, whatever that means, so generally we spend most of class listening to different kinds of music and describing how it makes us feel.
“Your song makes me feel like shit,” Levi calls from across the room, and Hunter and I start playing louder and louder. Other kids groan at how bad we are.
“Hey, listen,” Hunter says. “I’m sorry if I upset you the other day.”
Ding, ding, ding, I play on the triangle. I don’t think anyone can hear us talking thanks to our horrible music. “It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not. I’m wrecked about Shelby and took it out on you and Levi. Did I mess things up for you guys?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “At first I didn’t think it would be hard to stop, but now I’m not sure how I feel about him.”
“Do you think about him when you wake up in the morning?”
“Well, yeah. He’s my ride to practice.”
Hunter gives me a look. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I think about him a lot.”
“That probably means something.”
It could mean something, but it might not. I never had romantic feelings for Levi before we started kissing. What if fooling around with Levi is fueling stronger romantic emotions that may or may not be real? Once it happened, feelings started blooming, as if I threw a bunch of seeds over my shoulder, and a month later, wildflowers were all over my yard. They are beautiful, but not what I had planned. Is that okay? Or will it all grow out of control and mess up our carefully tended friendship? I’m not sure if I ever wanted to tend a garden to begin with. Have the romantic feelings taken over my ability to think rationally?
Not to mention the other emotions that came along with making out: jealousy, when I think of Levi with another girl; insecurity, when I worry I’m asking too much of him and could be negatively affecting our friendship. Are we even Maggie and Levi anymore?
One of my classmates smashes the cymbals together, jerking me from my thoughts.
The music teacher, Mrs. McKean, sails into the room, wearing a long flowing dress and no joke—a turban. I wouldn’t be surprised if she pulls out a crystal ball and tries to tell our fortunes.
She smiles at Hunter and me. “Beautiful song, my friends. You truly belong among the stars that twinkle.”
Levi shakes his head at us. I go sit in the chair next to him and smile cheekily. “Did you hear that? I truly belong among the stars.”
He smiles, but it looks a little pained. I want to ask him if he’s doing okay, but I don’t want to seem overbearing either. That’s another thing that sucks about this murky area between friendship and something more. I question everything I do and say, rather than just act like myself. It’s hard to know who I am with him anymore.
Tuesday morning, I find out what was wrong with Levi. He texted he’s not swimming today. What? He hasn’t missed a day since he sprained his arm in third grade.
His message says: I have a cold.
That is not good. The state championship is in four days!
Feel better, I tell him.
I change into my suit, throw on my sweats, and jog downstairs. Dad is standing there still half asleep as usual, holding my snack bag.
“Dad, Levi can’t go this morning. Can you drive me?”
He gives me a sympathetic look. “Your mom and I have an early pitch session with the mayor’s office about the pajama party, and I need to review our presentation a couple more times.”
“But I’ve never driven all the way to Nashville,” I complain.
“Traffic will be light this time of day, and you can take the back roads. You’ll be fine.”
Jingling my keys, I take a deep breath, climb into the car, and start driving. I make it to the Sportsplex okay, but I’m ten minutes late because I couldn’t bring myself to go over forty miles per hour.
“You’re late,” Coach Josh says, obnoxiously checking his watch.
“Dad made me drive again,” I say, and Coach makes an O with his mouth. That’s the last I hear out of him because he knows driving is punishment enough for me.
School is a little lonely without Levi. I eat lunch with Hunter and Shelby, as well as Georgia, who spends most of the time turned around in her chair, flirting with David who’s sitting at another table. Hunter and Shelby are arguing under their breath right in front of me. I can totally hear everything.
“I don’t see why you won’t come to my cousin’s wedding with me,” Shelby says.
“Because,” Hunter replies, “you know people will ask if I’m your boyfriend.”
“So what?”
“Clearly we’re together. If people don’t think I’m your boyfriend, they’ll assume I’m your boy toy or that I’m using you or something.”
“No, they won’t.”
“Well that’s how I feel. I’m not going unless we make this relationship real already.”
Pain flits across Shelby’s face. “I’m sick of fighting with you.”
“Me, too. Just go out with me.”
“Hunt, I’ve told you, I’m scared. I can’t handle long distance. Let’s keep this casual.”
“If we’re casual, there’s no reason for me to go with you to a family wedding.”
Awkward. I want to smush their heads together and make them kiss and tell them to stop their foolishness. Yeah, he’s going away in three months, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be together.
I decide to text Levi: School without you is pure torture
He writes back: I miss you too. x
I stare down at my phone. Is that little x a kiss? The other day he said we can’t hook up anymore, but now he’s texting me kisses? Has the sickness ravaged his brain? Maybe it’s a typo. I nod to myself. Typo. Totally.
The day gets even weirder when Noah, the basketball player Levi doesn’t like, waits for me outside calculus class.
“Did you understand any of that about infinity limits?” he asks.
“Not a bit.”
He walks me down the hall. “You seem different, Maggie.”
“Different how?”
“Relaxed and happy. To be honest, you’re kind of a hard girl to get to know.”
“Really?” I’ve always tried to be nice to people.
Noah scratches the top of his head, peeking at me sideways. “I mean, Levi’s around all the time, and that’s kind of intimidating… Plus you’re so serious and focused.”
“I kind of have to be. Swimming is my life.”
“Whatever you’re doing different, I like it.” He winks and takes off down the hal
l toward a group of basketball players carrying on about a pick-up game after school.
By the time afternoon swim practice is over, I’m feeling more confident in my driving abilities, so I stop by Foothills Diner to get some soup for Levi. When I get to his house, Oma greets me at the door. She grabs Pepper’s collar as the dog sniffs the paper bag containing chicken soup and warm bread.
“How is he?” I ask Oma.
She gives me a knowing smile. “Behaving like any other sick man—acting like it’s the end of the world.”
I climb the stairs to his room. Without knocking I go in and find him watching a dirt bike race on TV. His bed is covered in tissues. A book called The Raven Boys is sitting on his quilt. He’s wearing a hoodie and mesh shorts, and thick socks cover his feet.
When he sees me, he drags himself to an upright position. “Hey.”
“Don’t overdo it,” I say, moving to sit next to him. I push him forward so I can fluff the pillow behind his head. “I brought you soup.”
“Between you and Oma, my blood is gonna be made of soup.”
“You’re welcome.”
He smiles a little and coughs. The skin around his nose is red.
“Will you be able to swim on Saturday?” I ask.
“Nothing’s keeping me out of that pool.” He coughs again.
Seeing him like this, all flushed and sad and worn out, I can’t help but cradle his cheek and kiss his forehead. When I pull away, he gives me a funny look.
“Don’t get too close,” he says. “You might catch whatever I’ve got.”
“I never get sick. I’ll risk it.”
Levi points at a bottle of antibacterial gel on the nightstand. “At least use some of that. It’s Oma’s.”
After lathering up my hands, I open the plastic soup container and pass it to him. He practically inhales the broth.
“You want to watch a movie or something?” I ask, taking the empty plastic container and setting it next to his pile of Harry Potters.
“I’m actually kinda tired.” He lies back down and pulls the covers up around his waist, then pats my knee. “Do you want to stay for a little bit? Tell me about your day?”
I go around to the other side of the bed, sweeping his tissues aside, and crawl in, but stay on top of the covers to avoid germs—karma could catch up with me. I lather up with the hand gel again, cozy up next to him, and rest a hand on his chest. He cradles my hand in his and shuts his eyes. With my other hand, I play with his hair. It’s gotten so long it nearly reaches his chin. Pretty soon he’ll look like Pepper.
“You should let me put little braids in your hair,” I tease.
“I’d look stupid.”
“You’d look sexy. My sexy shark.”
He shifts under my hand on his chest. “Don’t turn me on.” He laughs, but it turns into another cough. “I’m ill.”
“I figured a guy wouldn’t let a little cold get in the way of sexy times.”
“You’re right. I must be dying.”
“You’re not dying.”
“Lesson number three: Guys always want it. Except for when they are dying.”
We lie curled up together talking until his mom comes home earlier than usual. She appears in the doorway, dressed in a black power suit and red skyscraper high heels, carrying a tray with a bowl and a book.
I pull my hand out from under his and sit up, smoothing my hair. Ms. Lucassen considers me for a long moment. She’s found us lounging on his bed listening to music and hanging out before, but never holding hands.
Levi’s eyes flutter open, and he says hi to his mom, who fusses over him like I did, feeling the temperature of his forehead and fluffing his blankets.
“I brought you some soup and the next book in that Raven series you’re reading,” she says, and he moans, “Not more soup,” but immediately digs into it.
“I should go,” I say, getting to my feet. “I still need to do homework.”
“See you Saturday at the meet,” Ms. Lucassen says.
Outside his room, I start down the stairs, but remember I left my gloves on his dresser. I am heading back up when I hear them talking.
“Is something going on with you and Maggie?” his mom asks.
“No.”
“Are you sure about that?”
How do moms always know?
“I care about her,” he says slowly.
“You both have a lot going on with swimming right now,” Ms. Lucassen replies. “I don’t want things to get complicated for you. You have trials in a few months.”
“Right. There’s nothing going on.”
I grab the staircase railing to hold myself up. He said nothing’s going on between us. As if these past few weeks of growing closer physically have meant nothing. His words feel like drowning.
But would I say anything different?
Swimcest
It takes Levi a few days to get over his cold, but by the time he picks me up for the pool on Friday morning, he seems much better. I missed him a lot this week. Not being able to see him for months when I’m at college this fall will be miserable. I don’t want to think about it.
“Are you going to swim this morning?” I ask.
“I think I’ll stretch and get in a quick workout, but not do too much. Are you feeling okay? I’m worried I might’ve gotten you sick.”
“I’m fine.”
He looks over at me from behind the wheel. “You nervous about state?”
“I got this.”
A smile appears on his face. “Yeah, you do.” He reaches over to pat my knee, and I squeeze his hand. I find myself tracing his fingers, wanting to kiss them. Wanting them on my body. I bring his hand to my mouth and kiss his knuckles.
“God, I wish we didn’t have practice,” I whisper.
He fidgets in the driver’s seat. “I thought we agreed we can’t do this anymore.”
“We did…but that hasn’t stopped me from wanting it.” From wanting you.
Levi pulls into the parking lot, throws the car into park, and pulls me into his arms. He’s always grumpy in the morning, but it turns out he can be turned on too. I might drown in his kisses. My fingers slip under his shirt to touch his warm, velvety skin, and soon we’re both having trouble breathing. I love the noises he’s making as we fog up the windows. He eases me onto my back, deliciously teasing my throat with his lips.
“God, I want you,” he murmurs.
Right as things are heating up, someone pounds on the window, and we break apart. I peer through the fogged-up glass at Coach Josh while Levi adjusts his warm up pants to cover his excitement.
“You’re late again,” Coach says.
“Shit,” we say together.
Coach shakes his head. “Move it.”
My mouth falls open as Coach stalks toward the Sportsplex doors. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Before Levi will let me out of the truck, he hugs me long and hard. “We weren’t doing anything wrong, okay?”
“Except swimcest.”
We laugh awkwardly, touching our foreheads together. I hold on to him as we try to catch our breath. I can’t remember ever feeling so good. But it’s also like I just pulled up to a train crossing, with flashing red barriers dropping and warning bells dinging. Will the train smash into me or pass me by?
When we head inside to the pool, Coach puts us straight to work on stretching and studying today’s workout on the whiteboard. We’ve been tapering all week, so it’s only 3,000 yards today. Pretty easy.
What’s not so easy? As soon as laps are over, Coach wants to see us privately. With a dark-green beach towel tied around his waist, Levi walks ahead of me off the pool deck, pulling off his swim cap and shaking out his hair like Pepper emerging from Normandy Lake. I hike my towel up around my chest and go change my clothes. The entire time I?
??m shaking. Levi’s already in Coach’s office by the time I arrive.
“Are you out of your minds?” Coach blurts.
Levi and I glance at each other.
“Um, no?” I say.
“Yup, you’re out of your damned minds,” Coach decides. “Maggie, if you get your cuts in Huntsville in a couple weeks, you both will be going to the United States Olympic trials, but instead of practicing, you’re messing around in Levi’s truck.”
“It’s my fault,” I say.
“Yours?”
“I started it.”
“You?”
Coach takes off his visor, runs a hand through his hair, and puts his visor back on. This guy knows us as well as our parents do—if not better. Hell, he knows when it’s my time of the month, because I always get a little sluggish in the water. So I guess he thinks this is a little out of character for me, and he would be right.
“You two are best friends,” Coach says. “Teammates. This could get awkward. You saw how Susannah dating Lucas affected her times last year. I don’t want that happening to you two.”
“It won’t,” Levi and I rush to say.
“Look, I can’t control what you two do out of the pool, but it better not affect your performance here, understand?”
“Yes, Coach,” I say.
“Yes, sir,” Levi says with a nod.
“And I better not see what I saw this morning in your truck again.”
We file out of his office. I barely have the energy to cross the parking lot. I’m so humiliated and disappointed I upset my coach. God, he calls my mother when I have a bad headache. What if he calls her about this?
By the time Levi and I get to school, we’ve missed first period. Barely a word has been spoken since Coach chewed us out.
Levi starts to open his truck door but I say, “Wait. Can we talk?”
He clears his throat. “Sure.”
“I’m confused.” I can barely hear myself say it.
He reaches over to my side of the truck, gently taking my hand. “What are you confused about?”
“I don’t want to stop, but I know we should, but I can’t imagine not being with you. Both as a friend, and maybe something more. But I don’t know. I just know I’m scared…and I really want to kiss you some more.”