Miguel can’t keep up from there. Sean reaches the start of the lane and turns around to do one more lap to finish out the heat. He dips under and I know he’s been energized again. It’s all over. No other swimmer even comes close after that. Just like at the last meet, I’m so overcome with the need to be in the water with him. But not like this, not in this tiny pool that reeks of chlorine and is surrounded by people. Even if they all thought my fin was just part of some stupid social media trend, it wouldn’t be the same as swimming through the ocean with Sean, showing him what it’s really like to be one with the water, drifting through kelp beds and coral reefs. I know he’d love it more than anything, but there’s no magic that could make that work. If we’re going to be together, I have to be the one to stay up here. A huge part of me can’t imagine that, but a steadily growing voice in my head wonders if it could.

Sean slaps the wall to mark his time, and I try to snap out of it. I’ve got to go with the flow, just celebrate this win for him and not make it about me. I’m on my feet. I scream, do a little jig, and pump my fists. The only problem is, my nervous hands grabbed on to Kavya’s soda during the heat, and I didn’t notice. So when I squeeze my fingers closed to pump my hands in victory, the lid pops right off and Mountain Dew goes flying. An unnaturally green stream propels forward, landing right on top of Dominic’s head.

Dominic turns, and he looks exactly how I imagined humans before coming up here: murderous, like he’d string me out on a hook to dry in a heartbeat. “What the fuck is your problem?” he screams.

I really want to answer him. I’d like to tell Dominic that I genuinely didn’t mean to do that. But now that I see how angry he is, that jealous bit inside me thinks it’s actually kind of funny. Why does it feel so good to get him this worked up? Dominic’s eyes are bugging out now, and he’s baring his teeth, making him look an awful lot like an angler fish. Maybe it makes me a blowhole, but I can’t help but laugh at him.

My laughter doesn’t last long though.

Because Dominic decides that’s the perfect moment to punch me in the face.

     Sean     

Normally the screams at a race are excited. They’re cheering people on, giving pep talks, someone’s voice cracking from squealing too hard when their favorite swimmer clocks in.