Fate Must Be A Swimmer Too

Leaning against a wall behind the timers’ chairs as she waited for the next race, featuring her best friend, to begin, Audrey stood, tousled chestnut hair waving softly to midchest, lips stained with the remnants of her favorite magenta lipstick and pouted in boredom. She stood in a relaxed slouch, arms crossed in front of her to ward off the day’s chill but with a tilted hip and slight cock of the head. She lazily observed the third swimmer for a rival school’s 200 free relay as he crawled from the pool. Trying to be sneaky, she glanced up at him through the thin veil of carefully lowered, lightly mascaraed eyelashes and noted smoky grey-green eyes and bedraggled blonde hair that spoke volumes about his personality. As Audrey watched, he shook the hair out of his eyes with a practiced toss of head and dragged himself halfway out of the warm caress of the pool, grazing his ribs on the concrete lip as he did so. His scrawny arms trembled in the frigid midwinter wind like the blades of grass visible on the hill next to the pool as he lifted his frame from the warm water, threatening to collapse at any moment. The arms had the faintest suggestion of muscle to them, no more than a slight shadowy contour. As he bent them, a trickle of water and chlorine rolled down the pale, freckled expanse of skin to the hands that shoved forcefully downwards, disregarding the gravel that littered the pool deck even as it dug shallow indents into his fleshy palms. With a final heave and triumphant exhalation of breath, he flooped over onto the bumpy, uneven deck and lay there on his back for a few seconds, staring up at the gathering clouds. When he finally stood, back to Audrey, the water-pruned hand of a teammate pounded him on the back and handed him a fluffy towel soaked in residue body heat to keep him from freezing while he hoarsely cheered on his teammate’s last 25 yards, stomping his feet hard on the ground and crashing his hands together in a wave of sound.
The teammate slams into the wall, and a triumphant cheer issues from their portion of the pool as the scoreboard declares their victory. The boy jumps high in the air, landing slightly crouched before straightening to turn and walk away. After his first step from the pool, his eyes flick up to meet Audrey’s and he nervously bites his lip as his feet drag him closer to the girl who, noticing his hesitant approach, transforms her pink lips into a glowing smile that makes his heart stop still. Hoping he can keep it together long enough to impress her, the boy struts ever nearer.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” The corners of her mouth stretch further from each other and he feels his own mouth contort into a bashful grin. “I’m Audrey.”
“Seb. Well… Sebastian really, but you can call me Seb if you want.” Emboldened by her giggle at his poor attempt at humor, Sebastian proffered the towel. “You look cold. Here, let me warm you up.”
Audrey bit her lip and looked up at him. “Thanks,” she whispered, stepping forwards to allow him to drape the towel around her.
“No problem. My mom raised me to always be extra sweet to women,” Voice dropping into a husky whisper, “especially ones as beautiful as you.”
Whistles shrilled and teammates screamed, but the two people stood gazing at each other, ignoring the drama of the new race in the thrill of finding each other.