Paige dropped her duffle to the floor, the strap catching her earphones as it fell, ripping them almost painfully from her ears. As she winced at the discomfort, the sudden jolt back to reality hit her almost immediately. As she leant down to lock her bike the enormity of the day ahead started to build in her head again, she felt the familiar force of anxiety start to course through her body. She tried to shake it off.

"It's just one day, you just have to make it through today."

A mantra she practiced often. There were two things in life that calmed Paige, the first being her mother. She recalled her mothering whispering those words in her ear the first day she started high school. She remembered feeling the anxiety drain away, like a plug had been pulled. As the words left her own mouth though, today, and every other day, the effects were never quite the same no matter how much she willed them to help.

'Yeh and what about tomorrow, and next week, and the rest of your life? How you going to make it through them dumbass?'

Paige was stirred from her thoughts as she heard the door to the natatorium swing shut. She looked down at her watch, 5:32am, then around the car park. It was empty. She was convinced she would be the only one here at this time in the morning. After meeting with her new coach the previous week, her father had demanded that it be ok for Paige to use the pool out of training hours in order to, how did he put it?

"..Maintain her superior edge over the competition."

Paige remembered recoiling in embarrassment at her father's words. Coach had nodded politely in agreement and shook her father's hand as they both turned to leave. As Paige exited the office, she heard Coach Fulton clear her throat as if trying to grab her father's attention. He stopped and turned.

"As long as your daughter is part of this team and performs in the pool where it counts, she is welcome to train as often as 'you' want her to Mr McCullers."

Even from outside the office, Paige could almost hear her father's jaw clamp shut and his eyes narrow as Coach Fulton almost spat her words at him.

"Oh don't you worry about that Coach Fulton," her father retorted forcefully.

Paige bent down to grab her duffle and sighed as she headed for the pool.

"One day," she repeated to herself.

The second thing that calmed Paige was swimming. As she opened the natatorium doors, the smell of chlorine hit her nose and she felt a sense of peace wash over her. The pool was like an escape for her. Swimming lessons had been Paige's mother's idea. Paige had always been a tightly wound kid, easily agitated, struggling to find her place in the world. Swimming had focused her, calmed her. As soon as she hit the water, the outside world dissipated around her. She didn't need to hold herself up anymore; the water did that for her. It held her, comforted her, let her be herself. Let her float aimlessly, thrash violently, glide gracefully, haul herself through it powerfully. It didn't judge her, push her, expect anything from her. She was in control in the pool. And now it served as a constant reminder of her mother too. Her feelings for swimming were becoming severely conflicted lately though. After Paige lost her mom 2 years ago, her father had become less of a parent and more of a machine, pushing her well beyond her limits when it came to training. She became a project for him, of which failure was not an option. And it wasn't; Paige had excelled in the pool last year, outperforming everyone on her high school team and others across the state. But that wasn't enough for her father. He wanted more. He had transferred her to Rosewood, to swim for the Sharks, considered to be one of the best high school swim teams in the country.

And here she was. As she stepped inside the building the automatic lights flickered on, and suddenly the hallway was alive with Shark's memorabilia. Pendants and team photos lined the walls, a large glass trophy cabinet full to the brim stood out as a Shark's shrine, showing off the success of the team. It was too much, her father's expectations felt heavy on her as she made her way over to the cabinet. She breathed deeply, willing the familiar smell of the building to lighten her, curb the threatening anxiety again. But nothing took the edge off. Her eyes were drawn to the trophy that stood proudest in the cabinet. The stem of the trophy was the body of a female swimmer, the handles made from her arms raised above her head; the cup she held was engraved with 'State Champions 2012' and contained a team photo. As she studied the photo, she could see that it was candid. No one was looking at the camera. In the centre of the group, Paige recognised Coach Fulton, her smile proud and beaming. Something she was far from witnessing at their meeting last week. Next to her the team had raised a girl onto their shoulders as she held the trophy above her head. Paige focussed in on the girl. She noticed how her dark hair was swept to one side, how it fell gracefully over her shoulder, her eyes, bright and kind looking down at her team like they were her family, like they shared a bond only they understood, how her arms looked lean and strong, her upper body outlined by her swimsuit looked slim and toned. Paige was mesmerised. Her gaze travelled back to the girl's face, the grin she wore was infectious, and as the thought registered in Paige's mind, she felt a grin of her own spread across her face.

The moment was interrupted as once again she heard a door open. She jumped instantly at the unexpected sound, and she clumsily stumbled into the cabinet as she tried to turn to see where the noise had come from.

"Shit, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to scare you. I just noticed the light on from inside the changing room. I'm usually the only one here at this ridiculous time in the morning. Are you ok?"

Paige instantly recognised the pair of kind eyes worriedly staring at her, trying the gauge an answer to her question, from the girl in the photo.

"Erm yeh…I'm fine," Paige spluttered as she turned slightly again, this time hitting the cabinet with her duffle slung over her shoulder, knocking it off her arm and emptying half of its contents onto the floor. "Shit, sorry," she cursed as she frantically bent down to grab her stuff.

'Smooth McCullers, smooth. Get yourself together you absolute twat of a human being. Why are you losing your shit? Oh yeh, because apparently you now turn to mush when there's a pretty girl in the room. Good luck with that one.'

"Shut up," she mumbled as she finally gathered her belongings, dropping her goggles twice before managing to shove everything haphazardly into her duffle. Realising that she had just said 'shut up' out loud she hastily stood up with the intention of apologising again, only to be met once again with those kind eyes and the warmest of smiles.

The stranger edged closer to her, offering out her hand.

"Let's start again shall we. Hi, I'm Emily. Emily Fields, captain of the Rosewood Sharks."

Paige, still flustered and panicked from the ordeal, extended her hand out to meet Emily's.

"I'm sorry. I mean shit…I'm Paige, I'm not sorry. I mean I am sorry, but that's not my name."

A lump formed in Paige's throat, she wanted the world to swallow her up, the day had only just started and already she wanted it to be over. She closed her eyes feeling dizzy with panic. Only for them to involuntarily open again as she felt Emily's hand slide into hers. It rested against her palm with ease as if it had done so a thousand times before. Where Emily's skin touched hers, a warmth started to spread through Paige, pushing back the panic and anxiety that was threating to engulf her.

'Woah,' was all her mind could fathom.

"Well it's really nice to meet you Paige, not sorry."

There were 3 things in life that calmed Paige. Her mom, swimming, and apparently Emily Fields.