I look over to where Ross and Kavya sit. Ross did exactly as they said they would, hamming it up for everyone to think we’re together. They made a huge sign that says SEAN SWIMS IN MY HEART, and has an off-the-shoulder sweatshirt with my face on it. At first I thought this sign-outfit combo was mortifying, but then Kavya convinced me that it’s so lame everyone would think it’s really adorable in an ironic sort of way. She was right. Everyone who came up to talk to Ross said how cute their getup was, and as I join my teammates on the sidelines, I get so many nudges asking me about my new significant other and when they get to meet them. Gregory Vallee asks if the carpet matches the drapes, and I would push him into the pool if Coach wasn’t right here. Even Miguel gives me a “Good for you, man” with a hearty slap on the back. I’m feeling unstoppable—that is, until Miguel immediately follows his congrats with a jaunt over to the stands to make out with D. Even over the sounds of horns and cheers and splashes as swimmers do their heats, I’m positive I can hear them sucking face.

I try not to stare, but like backstabbing magnets, my eyes can’t stop drifting to the side, determined to see them going at it despite the fact that it wrecks me inside. I swear Dominic is staring at me over Miguel’s shoulder. He wants me to see them together.

A fiery rage burns off the nervous bubbles in my stomach. It’s on. He wants me to think he’s fine and moved on despite the fact he keeps “accidentally” running into me ever since he learned about Ross? Well, two can play this game.

“NESSAN!” Coach yells. “You’re up next. Show ’em what you’ve got.”

“Oh, I’ll show them all right.” If Kavya could hear me she would have said, “What is this? Bring It On? It’s already been broughten?” I wouldn’t have the heart to tell her that’s actually not a line from the movie but some cheesy spoof instead, but I’d get her point. I do sound like some dumb sports film and I am going to bring it. I’m going to swim the best heat of my goddamn life and give Miguel something to worry about. And make Dominic wonder whether he chose the right swimmer after all.

“Nessan, Vallee, Quintero, you’re up,” Coach yells.

“Wooo! Go, Sean!” Ross and Kavya scream their heads off while I take my position in the pool, getting into my lane and grabbing the handles at the bottom of my diving block. I plant my feet against the wall, ready to launch off. This 100-meter backstroke is mine.