After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I was in my room again, about to change into my pajamas, when I heard a muffled buzzing from the desk. I ignored it. I pulled a tank top and a pair of cotton shorts out of my drawer. I changed into them and dumped my dirty clothes into the hamper in the corner of my room under the poster of an Olympic-sized swimming pool taken at water level, from a swimmer’s point of view. Bold black letters across the poster read: Punish Your Goals.

My phone buzzed again. I glanced at the drawer. What if Amelia was trying to get hold of me with some sort of best-friend emergency and I was just ignoring her need? I yanked open the drawer and pulled out my phone. It showed I had a notification: DM@HeathHall. I clicked on it.

My heart skipped a beat. Why would he message me? I sank down into my desk chair, then slid my finger over the screen until it hovered over the envelope icon.

A knock sounded at my door and I jumped. My mom poked her head inside the room.

“Hello. Came to say good night.”

“Are you just getting home?” I asked.

“You know how meetings go. There’s so much to discuss and delegate.”

“Didn’t you just have a meeting yesterday?”

“That was the sign-up meeting. This was the calendaring meeting.”

I raised my eyebrows. “So many meetings.”

“I know. I just wanted to tell you good job yesterday at your meet.”

“Thank you.”

“Also, I was thinking about that dress you wore to the museum Thursday night. That would be the perfect one to wear to the leukemia charity event on the twenty-fifth.”

“The twenty-fifth?” I turned all the way around in my desk chair. She was still lingering in my doorway.

“Yes. Is there somewhere you’d rather be?” she asked.

“It’s not that I’d rather be somewhere else, but we have a mandatory awards banquet at school for swim at the exact same time.” Not to mention the charity dinner was about forty-five minutes away so it wasn’t like I could make an appearance at both.

“I’m sure your coach would understand if you couldn’t go.”

Right. I could just use the my brother is dead card. It worked well. “He might let me out of it, but I also feel like I need to be there to support my teammates.”

“And you don’t feel like you need to support your family?”

“I’ve been every other year.”

My mom started to speak but then stopped herself, donned her disappointed eyes, then said, “Well, think about it. Ultimately the decision is yours. You’ll do the right thing.”

That look made it seem like the decision wasn’t mine at all, but I still said, “I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

“Good night, honey.”

“Night.”