Just Swimmingly

Scott

Jennifer was looking at me. Her emerald green eyes were piercing, yet beautiful. Hurt, yet strong.
"That was...amazing," I breathed, referring both to the experience of looking into her eyes and listening to the song. I'd never heard anything like that before, and it made me feel so much better about everything. About people thinking of me as a jerk, about having a stalker ex-girlfriend on my back. She looked at me skeptically.
"Seriously? You liked that?" She sounded like she thought I was either kidding or lying.
"Yeah, your playlist kicks my playlist's ass!" She smiled.
"Okay, then you'll really like this."

Jennifer

I played Keep The Change, You Filthy Animal by All Time Low. After that was over, he just looked at me.
"What?" I asked, suddenly self conscious.
"Can I buy your iPod from you?" Again, he sounded serious. I suppressed a laugh but a smile came out.
"No."
"Can I borrow it?"
"Not today." He looked upset, so I told him a good punk and rock radio station. I still couldn't believe he was serious. And if he was, then why hadn't I met him before?

Scott

Damn. She looked like she felt bad for me and told me about a good punk and rock radio station. Why haven't I met her before, and why did people make fun of her? Her music taste was great, and she seemed nice enough. But the songs she'd shown me were about not being good enough. Was that why she was teased all the time? Because she thought she wasn't good enough and people saw that insecurity and picked on her for it? I gave her ear bud back to her and we both continued eating. The silence was slightly more comfortable, but I still couldn't understand why this girl was refusing to let me in. What was she hiding?

Jennifer

After lunch, I was happy to get away from Scott. Sure, I felt bad for him, and sure he needed to improve his taste in music, but something didn't seem right about him sitting with me, and talking to me, and acting like he enjoyed it. He'd never even said hi to me before, and suddenly he expects me to spill my life story over lunch? There's no way this couldn't be a set up. People don't just start caring out of the blue. Especially people like him.

---

Once I got home, I was prepared for unpacking more boxes.
"Jennifer, unpack the pantry boxes, please," said my mother, barely looking at me as she went up the stairs.
"Fine." Once my mom was out of earshot, Ricky walked up to me.
"Why are you so weird?" he asked, looking at me.
"Why are you so annoying?" I shot back.
"No, like, you're so weird that it's embarrassing that we're related," he said seriously. He wasn't aiming to hurt this time, but I still felt my heart drop from the raw honesty. What the fuck? Where was this even coming from? My mom came back down the stairs.
"Oh no, Ricky. You don't need to help your sister unpack. Just relax, I know you had a hard day at middle school."
"Okay, Mommy," he said in a voice that was as sweet as it was fake. He left me standing there, wondering how the hell my sweet little brother had turned into a vicious nightmare.

Scott

"Come on, ladies! Kick those legs! Propel yourself forward!" yelled the coach. I felt like I was swimming through wet concrete. When I reached the end of the pool, I jumped out, breathing hard.
"Hey, I heard you dumped Kinny Wilson in the right wing today," panted the guy next to me. "Nice." Nice?
"Yeah, it was something like that," I panted back, deciding to keep it vague.
"Bro, did you ever get with that? 'Cause it seems like she's pretty loose," said the guy on my other side. Why didn't I know these guys? The coach blew the whistle, signaling us to get back in the pool.
"Yeah, she's pretty loose," I agreed, jumping under the surface.

---

In the locker room, guys wouldn't leave me alone. Some would congratulate me for getting rid of my "ball and chain", some would laugh and call me an asshole in a friendly way, and others would ask me why I did it in the middle of the right wing. I smiled and kept all of my answers aloof. I just wanted to go home and sleep off the day. I completely blew off the rest of the guys that asked me questions, telling them that I'd see them tomorrow. I walked into the shadowy parking lot.
"Fucking dammit!" hissed someone nearby. I stopped and saw the outline of someone kicking a tire. "Why won't this stupid piece of shit start up?" I walked over.
"Need a jump?" I asked timidly. The person whipped around, and my life flashed quickly before my eyes. He was big and could definitely beat the crap out of me right this second. Then I realized it was someone from the swim team, but he was on the higher end of varsity. But it was more than that, like, he looked familiar in other ways, but I knew I'd never seen him before.
"Yeah, thanks man," he said, appearing to calm down a little.
"No problem." I drove my car up to his and got the cables out. Why the hell did he look so familiar? I'd never talked to him before now.
"What's your name?" he asked me.
"Scott Kirkland."
"Ryan Baskins." He reached his hand out and I took it. "Nice to meet you, bro. You're on the swim team too, right?"
"I wouldn't be at this place at this hour if I wasn't," I laughed. He chuckled.
"I know what you mean. This place bites the big one." His face changed into a look of oh shit I just said something I shouldn't have. "No offense if you were like, born here or anything," he added quickly. I grinned.
"None taken." His car finally started up.
"All right!" He seemed less intimidating when he wasn't pissed off. "Nice meeting you, Scott, and thanks again for the jump."
"Yeah, no problem man. See you tomorrow."

Jennifer

"Hey Mom," said Ryan, jingling his keys as he walked through the front door. Huh. Somebody was happy about something. Maybe he was finally getting somewhere with that girl.
"Ryan, help your sister unpack the pantry, please." She walked outside to get the mail indifferently.
"Okay." He walked over to me agreeably. "Hey, Jen." I looked at him. What had gotten into him?
"Are you high?" asked Ricky. I looked back at Ryan. His eyes were slightly red, but he'd just gotten back from swimming, so it could be the chlorine. But still.
"No," answered Ryan, rolling his eyes.
"Then what are you on?" asked Ricky again.
"What are you on, besides your ass?" snapped Ryan back. Ricky ignored him and continued playing video games. Well, looks like Ricky successfully snapped Ryan out of the good mood he was in. I quietly put flour and rice into the pantry. My phone buzzed again. I answered it.
"Hayden, stop calling me."
"But baby, I wanted to sing you a song."
"No." I couldn't let him sing to me; that's how I fell for him in the first place.
"Stay for tonight, if you want to, I can-"
"Hayden, stop. I hate that song," I lied. I loved that song, but it didn't mean anything to him when he sung it to me anymore, so why should it mean anything to me when I listened to it?
"Fine. You don't know what music is, bitch." He hung up and I let out a sigh.
"Is that scrawny freak still calling you?" asked Ryan. I looked at him. I didn't know he'd been listening to me.
"Oh, Hayden?" He nodded. "Yeah."
"Why do you answer?" he asked curiously.
"Why do you care?" I shot back defensively. I regretted my rudeness for a beat; it was practically a reflex now. But then I realized my comeback was relevant. Why did Ryan suddenly care what hurt me? Why did people suddenly give a shit about what was going on in my life?
"Because you're my sister," he told me. It sounded genuine, so I opened my mouth to tell him the truth.
"Because she's fuckin' desperate, that's why," chimed in Ricky at the perfectly wrong time. We both looked at him and he sneered. "Who would want you?" I was about to shoot something back, but I realized he had a point. Who would want me?