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Practice on Monday was interesting to say the least. Everyone had heard about Richie and Wilson's scuffle in the locker room the day before – Wilson didn't know how, but they did – and that was the talk of the entire day. The lunch table was tense, and the whole school was practically reaming with the impact. Practice, however, was where they couldn't avoid each other. They could for a little bit, while they swam by themselves, but the relay practice was unbearable.

Coach Walker wasn't oblivious. He could sense something was off with the team, and through the snide remarks and the comments made by the other swimmers, he deduced there had to be a problem between Wilson and Richie. Never being one to beat around the bush, he pulled them aside and outside of the pool area to talk to them in private.

"I don't know what's going on, but you two better kiss and make up. Regionals are in two days boys. Now what's happened?"

Both boys glared at each other and then said nothing. Wilson thought back over what happened. He was willing to take the fall for the whole incident. After all, he was the one who punched Richie. "Um, I saw Richie yesterday and he was doing something that I didn't agree with so I hit him."

Coach Walker looked concerned. "You're not doing drugs, are you?" Richie shook his head adamantly. "Girls? Were you two fighting over a girl?" Neither of them said anything. "Don't get your panties all in a bunch, especially over a girl, especially now. Suck it up for the team. Now get back in the pool. Fighting at my practices will not be tolerated."

Both boys nodded, mumbling their "yes sir's" and went back toward the water. The whole team looked at them as they walked back in shame for being reprimanded. Richie contemplated pushing Wilson into the pool, but decided that was unbecoming of a captain so didn't. Wilson was afraid that he would, and was relieved when he finally got back and joined the rest of the team dry.

Practice was rigorous that afternoon. Five hours to be exact. They wanted to make sure everything was picture perfect for regionals on Wednesday. All the boys left exhausted. Wilson got home and, since no one was home anyway, he just crashed and slept until the next day. Tuesday was the same way, except practice was only four hours. Coach didn't want them to be so tuckered out that it would hinder their performances.

Regionals finally came. They were at a pool three towns away, about a twenty-five minute drive. The bus ride there was silent; everyone was getting into their zone. They ended their season undefeated, but now it was November. The slate was wiped clean. Also, their school had a reputation of excellence to uphold. There was certainly a lot of pressure riding on this meet.

They reached their destination and got off of the bus. The meet was at a YMCA, and it wasn't in a very good area. The town itself was decent, but the part it was located in was a bit rough. Some comments were made as they went in about how dingy the place looked and how every meet should be held at their pool because it was gorgeous, especially in comparison.

A half an hour later, the meet started. Parents filed in and took there seats on the bleachers, as did kids from the schools that were participating. Wilson's mother had to extend her trip in Chicago, but his father promised that he would show up late. Late should have been better than never, but since his relay was up first, he might as well had not bothered to come at all. His freestyle race was later, so Wilson counted on him seeing that. He knew he would qualify for states and his dad would be proud of him. He just needed to get there and show some interest in Wilson's life.

Wilson put all of his problems outside of the pool and concentrated on the relay. Scott was going to be first to swim backstroke, then Richie with the breaststroke, Tyler doing the butterfly, and then Wilson with his superb freestyle. The race began and Scott started to swim. He fell into the middle of the pack, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't come out on top. Richie fell behind a little, but mostly maintained Scott's mediocre start. Tyler picked it up a bit, but not enough. When he touched the wall, they were currently in third.

Wilson was quick off the block. He dove straight in and stayed underwater for a third of the length. He came up fighting. He passed one of the kids with ease, and after the turn passed the other. Audible gasps came from the audience. Wilson came in nearly a full second faster than the next team with a remarkable come from behind win.

When he climbed out of the pool, his teammates rallied around him and everyone clapped. It was fun being the star. All his glory was short lived, though. As to be expected, coaches from three of the other teams ran over to the judges screaming. Coach Walker and Assistant Coach Abrams rushed over to fend for Wilson. He looked on as they all screamed and yelled at each other. One coach broke away from the pack and came right over to Wilson.

"What are you on? You have to be on something!"

"Excuse me?"

Assistant Coach Abrams came over to explain. "They think you were taking performance enhancers. They want you to be drug tested."

His jaw dropped. "What? Coach, you know I'm not on anything."

"Yeah, but they don't believe that. And neither do the judges."

"So?"

"So either you get drug tested under the supervision of the doctor on hand, or you have to forfeit your first place and can't compete in your 400 free."

No one was joking. "Fine, whatever. We've earned this; I've earned this. I'm not going to let them take it away."

Wilson was taking by a Dr. Parsons to the bathroom and held up the meet for twenty minutes while a 'sample' was collected. He came back out and the rest of the meet went on without a hitch. When he went up on the block for his four-hundred meter freestyle race, he received some booing. He shrugged most of it off and just concentrated on the water below him. The race started and he was off again. Back and forth, back and forth. All you could see was his streak of white from the splashing of the water; he was going so fast it was almost unperceivable. Fifty-five seconds on the nose. He won hands down. His status as a swimming prodigy was confirmed.

The race ended and two races came after that, and then it was all over. He'd gone to do his best and that was what he did. Now he was going to be the talk of the entire swim community in the state of California. He looked around the stragglers in the bleachers for his father but didn't see him. Of course he didn't show up. Wilson half anticipated it.

What he did find, however, wasn't what he expected.

"Hey," Becca said.

"Hi," he smiled. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Well, neither did I until this afternoon but here I am."

"Were you here the whole time?"

"Yup."

That wasn't possible. The meet started at 2:00 and was a half hour away from her school. She didn't get out of school until 2:30 anyway. "Didn't you have school?"

"I skipped."

"Very nice."

"I thought so." She jumped down from the bleachers and stood next to him. "So, if you didn't know I was here, who were you looking for?"

"My father, who promised to be here but, once again, failed to actually do it." He sighed. "So now I've missed the bus because I thought he actually might have shown up and I have no ride back."

She smiled at him. "See, now aren't you glad I skipped? Now you don't have to resort to public transportation to get you back home."

x

"So, how old are you, fifteen?" Becca asked Wilson.

"Yeah. My birthday's July's 2nd."

"Doesn't that make you in my grade?"

"No. They have all these weird cut-offs in GlenOak for kindergarten depending on where you lived and what elementary school you go to. You start a year later than everyone else does, but then it kind of balances out."

"How does that happen?"

He laughed. "I have no idea. But by high school most people are all settled."

"Except for you."

"No, I'm fine with being a freshman. And I'm only about a month or two older than everyone- tops. It doesn't make that much of a difference." He paused. "Guys are immature anyways."

"Speaking of immature, what about them making you get drug tested?"

"You saw that?" She nodded. "They're so stupid. Just because I'm good I have to be on steroids or something."

"So did you have to pee in a cup?"

He blushed, but then recalled Sunday's events. In comparison, this was hardly blush-worthy. "Yeah; some doctor guy took me. And then they whisked it off to some lab for testing. The results should be in tomorrow."

She turned to him, concerned. "He didn't inspect you or anything, did he?"

"'Inspect'?"

She winked. "You know."

"Oh, I see. No."

"Because I would have done it. If he didn't want to or anything. They could have called me and I would have checked you out."

He blushed again. "I'm sure you would have."

"Yup, could have been fun." They pulled into his driveway. "Last stop."

"Thanks. Do, uh, do you want to come in?" The only thing that would make today any better would and erase all the bumps would have been spending a few hours enjoying Becca.

"By come in, you mean-" He nodded. "You're not tired after all this?"

"Not too tired for you."

She laughed and opened her door. They walked to the house together. Thankfully for Wilson, his dad wasn't home. There was a note on the table, though. 'Wilson, Got hung up at work. Sorry I missed your meet. Won't be back home until 10.' How nice of him to leave some form of contact. Becca saw his face droop and she kissed his cheek. "Don't worry, my parents hate me. At least yours like you."

Wilson decided it was time to do this proper if they were going to make this a habit. He took Becca up to his bedroom and shut the door. He sat on the bed and she followed. Wilson waited until she kissed him, and then kissed her back. He lowered down onto the bed and rolled to the side of her.

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Erm. See, they had to know that trouble would ensue. These crazy kids. Review please.

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