It Had to be You

After throwing my bag into the cab's trunk and handing directions to the driver, I groaned, pressing my cell phone back to my ear and hearing that my mom hadn't missed a beat and was still asking questions.

"Mom," I said, interrupting her. Sometimes, this was the only way to knock some sense into her. "I'm fine. I landed at the airport about fifteen minutes ago, my cab is here and the driver already thinks I'm too crazy to rape. No, I haven't heard from my coach yet because he wanted me to call as soon as I landed. And yes, it's really sunny out today and I put on sun screen in the bathroom on the plane."

The driver was still giving me an odd look as I slid into the backseat, pulling the door closed as I heard my mother give a disapproving sound.

"You shouldn't say things like that Gia," she said, using a nickname that she knew I didn't like. With a roll of my eyes I continued to listen. "You know I only want the best for you and I'm not used to you being so far away."

This of course, didn't stop her from asking another slew of questions.

"Mom! Chill out, please, before you give the both of us a heart attack. I won't know any of that until I get to the pool, which is where I'm headed. I can't possibly tell you who's also training at the pool seeing as I don't know all that, and let's be honest, would it even matter? And yes, I did remember to pack makeup in case I meet guys. I'm going to hang up now. Love you mom, I'll talk to you later."

And with that, I hung up before she could bombard me with more questions. The cab driver remained awfully quiet, obviously scared of me and the conversation I just had on the phone. "Sorry about that," I said, my fingers gliding over the phone cover, "my mom has issues letting go of her children."

That was an understatement. Ever since I had told her that my coach was moving to Florida and wanted me to follow, my mom had been an emotional wreck, caught somewhere between utterly annoyed with the situation and proud. She ultimately knew that if I wanted any good chance of making it to the Olympics in London in a year and a half, I needed to continue my intense training with Chris. So all-in-all, she was having a mini-panic attack knowing that I was so far away from home, actually all the way on the other side of the country.

When he didn't respond, I quickly scrolled through my recent calls to get my coach's number and listened to it ring.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three ri--

"Tate, you were supposed to call me the second you got to the baggage claim," he answered, the sound of splashing in the background. He's obviously at the aquatics center already.

"I was going to, but Wonder Mom beat me to calling and she kept me on the phone for ten minutes asking if the sky was falling."

Chris gave a hearty laugh before he continued on, "You're heading to the pool right?"

"Yes sir, I'm only--twenty minutes out according to the GPS on my phone."

"Well, I've got to run to the house and help my daughter who locked herself out of her car. You'll be okay getting ready and warming up on your own right?"

My eyes bugged, "Chris, you can't not be there. I've never been to this place, they won't know who I am, and they'll think it's weird that I don't have a coach."

"Tate, they know you're coming and all you have to do is show your ID and you're in. It won't take me long. Besides, you're Tate; I don't know of anyone with enough balls to stand between you and what you want."

It was true. I had been a fiercely determined person ever since I was a kid. My personality drove me to be. I dreamed big, I wanted nothing but the best out of everything, but at the same time I just wanted to have fun. My dad admired how headstrong I was, my mom thought it was my best and worst quality (probably more of a con than a pro for her). But being this way wasn't exactly easy. I scared of a lot of people, costed me a few friendships and probably prevented a few boyfriends as well seeing as some guys just couldn't handle me. But the one place I found my personality was a perfect fit was in sports or being a competitor.

"Fine, but if they call the cops, I'm coming to your house and force feeding you cheesecake."

----------------------------******---------------------------------

A short half-hour later I was pulling my suitcase and training duffle out of the trunk and thanking Arnes, my courteous taxi driver. I approached the glass double doors that led to the front desk where I would have to check-in and get a lock for my locker and a series of other information that I'd have to be given.

"Hi, welcome to the Aquatics Center in Gainesville, what can I do for you?" said the smiley receptionist. Her blonde hair was in a Katniss braid, and her makeup practically caked on.

"Hi, my name is Tate Rivera, I'm a swimmer."

I watched as she flipped through a binder. I let my eyes wander over her name tag. Megan. Her hand slid down the page. "Rivera is your last name?" she asked.

"Yeah, Tate. Or Georgiana," I answered, hoping beyond hope they didn't have my name down as Georgiana. I had never really liked the name, and even though my sister tried to get me to see the good in my name, I always insisted on going by my middle name Tate. The only person who ever went against my insistance was my mom who constantly called me Gia.

"Ah, you're right here. Now, we'll get you set up with an ID so that you can go through to the locker room and the pool easily with no hassle. If you could stand where that light blue tape is," she instructed, setting up a camera that was on top of the computer monitor. I looked down and saw that I was just behind the blue piece of tape and when I positioned myself on top of it, I smiled and looked back up. There was a few seconds of silence as she took the picture and typed something in.

"It'll take a bit for your ID to be ready, so just give me a second and I'll let you in and the locker room will be down the hall to the right."

I nodded, noting that she looked somewhat flustered. A few moments later she disappeared from behind the desk and the door that was just off to the left side of the desk opened, revealing her incredibly tall form and her swimming warm-ups. I lugged everything through the door and she shut the door behind me, standing next to the doorway that led behind the front desk.

"Remember, down the hall to the right," she said, before the phone began to ring.

I nodded, pulling my bags through the long hallway. The walls were a sallow white cinderblock and felt slightly cool. Once I reached the end of the hallway, I turned right and directly in front of me was the locker room door. I pulled it open and set all of my bags on the first bench I saw. My duffle fell with a thud, but I hardly noticed it as I began to peel off of my tank top. I smelled like the plane, not that it smelled or anything, but I always felt dirty when I got off of planes. I wasn't too much feeling dirty at this point, but I'd take a quick rinse before getting into my swimsuit.

Just as I was down to my bra and panties, about to unhook my bra, I heard someone cough from beside me, making me jump. Grabbing my chest, I tried to steady my raging heartbeat and my unsteady breath. I honestly thought I was alone in here. I turned around and was met with a naked torso. A chiseled, large, very much naked torso, but it definitely wasn't female. My eyes traveled upwards to see an awfully familiar face.

"For a guy, you're awfully curvy," he said, his blue eyes dazzling back at me.

"Ryan Lochte. You're awfully ugly for woman."

"Now this isn't fair; you know my name, but I don't know yours doll face."

"Well, for starters it isn't doll face."

"Are you a swimmer?"

I scoffed, "Are you a swimmer?"

There was a moment as Ryan's eyes scanned my face and down my body to my suitcase and duffle.

"You must be George."

I gave him a confused look before he laughed.

"Chris' swimmer that he brought from Cali. The name's George right?"

His grin was all I needed to know. He knew my name wasn't George and he definitely knew who I was. Of course, this is the first time we've actually met, but I'd seen him at competitions before and we had definitely heard of each other. It was impossible to not have heard of him.

"My name is Tate, not George."

"No, your name is Georgiana, or as I affectionally call you, George."

"You don't even know me."

"But don't I?" he said, taking me into a one shoulder hug, making me roll my eyes and shrug his arm off of me. I did take notice of how his arm lazily fell, brushing against my panty-clad butt.

"No, you don't. My name is Tate."

"Okay, whatever you say. How was your trip?"

"Fine. But why are you--"

"That's good. I hope you're ready for your training session today. I asked Chris if we could do a race today and he thought it would be a great idea," Ryan said, running a hand through his short brown hair.

"I'm what?"

Ryan smiled widely before shrugging, "Chris thought it was a great way to kick off your training here in Florida."

I rolled my eyes and didn't respond, that was until his next statement flooded from his mouth.

"You're going to love it here George, I just know it."

It was simple enough, but he had yet again called me George after I told him I wanted to be called Tate.

"It's Tate and if I have to tell you again, I just might spread the rumor that you have swimmer's ear. Why are you in the women's locker room anyway?"

My question made him perk up, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes sparkled oddly back at me. What was he so smiley about. Before I could ask though, he turned around and a loud crash from the other side of the locker room echoed around the empty room and the sound of tons of men filling the room made me freeze on the spot, my mind acutely aware of how exposed I was. Without much though, I grabbed my duffle and ran for the door, tripping over the scale against the wall.

"See you in the pool George!" Ryan called after me, my blood boiling. I didn't have to turn back to know that he was grinning.

When I see him at the pool, he was going to be torn apart in the water.