*Locker Room

Edward: Well, well, well. You took your sweet ass time.

Jasper/Bella: I was busy with my doctorate. What of it?

Edward: Doctorate in what?

Jasper/Bella: Well, my Ph.D. stands for Pissing Hell on Dicks.

Edward: And here I thought you were just taking a bathroom break.

"Happy Friday, Coldridge Academy," boomed Teddy's voice through the school speakers, the ones that added a scratchy yet old-fashioned quality to his voice. "A reminder of the upcoming swimming event of the decade. Be there on Sunday at fourteen hundred hours by the outdoor pools of Hale Hall. The Sectional Meet will determine who gets to compete at the state level, so please join me in cheering on our own Team Captain Cullen and the Crocs!"

I smiled as people clapped all around me on the quad. Friends and strangers alike swooped in for hugs or pats on the back. I thanked them with genuine pleasure and nervous anticipation as I headed off to practice.

Darting into the locker room a half hour early, I noticed only Emmett, face deep within the ArmPit.

"Hey, Em, you're early," I called.

He poked his head out of the locker of death to smile. "Just doing some spring cleaning."

"It's not spring. But holy shit, are you actually cleaning out the ArmPit?"

"Yeah, care to see?"

I backed away as slowly as possible, saying, "You need me behind you in the relays, Em, so I think it's best if I stay conscious for now."

"Damn straight," said a voice from behind us.

"Hey, Coach Drake," I greeted.

He grunted and shoved Emmett's locker closed, narrowly missing the buff swimmer's nose. "Boy, this zone has been deemed a health hazard. Grab your essentials and never open this chemical wasteland again. A team in Hazmat suits will be arriving shortly."

"What? No, but Coach. Listen. Coach!" cried Emmett, following the man into his office.

I shook my head and got ready, welcoming my teammates as they entered. When I turned to accept the book Stephen had offered to loan me, the door opened to the sound of a bark.

Edward walked in with our baby Beagle, Evan, sitting in his gym sports bag with his pink tongue lolling madly.

"Evan," I cried, scooping him out into my arms.

"That is pretty much the exact reaction I got from Coach on my way in here. Otherwise, I'd have been an hour early," laughed Edward, moving to his locker. The muscles in his back bunched under his black wife beater, and I used kissing Evan as a front for staring at Edward.

Normally, the guys changed facing their lockers, but today Edward faced me directly. He tore off his wife beater and asked, "So did you notice the bathroom sink won't stop leaking, or what?"

"Huh, yeah, totally," I said, not sure to what, but Edward looked great, so who cared?

He pulled down his pants, and I brought Evan up to hide my red cheeks, still unable to look away.

"Well, it matters because maintenance will be unavailable for all of tomorrow. That's a lot of water wasted," continued Edward.

I nodded. Or potentially shook my head.

Someone snickered. Derek said, "How much water you think we waste on these pools, man?"

I wanted to know the answer to that, but then Edward pulled down his boxers and placed a leg on the bench in front of him.

"Right, Jasper?"

"Jasper?"

Kevin and his twin Jack came rushing in. "Drake wants us ready in two minutes!" one of them said.

We all snapped to attention. Some of us more reluctantly than others.

At the pool edge, Coach Drake stood straight, tall, and somehow still intimidating with a clipboard in one hand and a Beagle in the other.

He began the session with his version of a pep talk, just as I noticed a couple men in full-body, yellow protective gear striding into the locker rooms with Emmett trailing behind them, his hands clasped together like a very fit beggar.

"Now, children," said Drake, "you are all gathered here today—"

"For mawwaige," whispered Jack.

Drake poured a bottle of water on Jack's head. "Great, you're already prepped for the pool. Now shut up. Children, I have the heat assignments posted in my office for the competition. Take a gander when you get the chance. You're all about as fast as you're gonna be by Sunday. So our main goal today will be practicing for those relays. Have fun. But one false start and I will consider having you expelled."

"That can't be ethical," muttered Emmett, as he joined us.

Drake turned. "Neither is your noxious locker, but here we all are, gasping for air. Cullen?"

Edward stepped up to give his more practical directions, and the session officially shifted into high gear.

I had stopped working too much on the butterfly, accepting my role in the medleys for the freestyle portion instead as much more beneficial to the team. Edward's butterfly was still stunning though, those long arms cutting through water as he burst out of it with breathtaking speed had taken him to the top in individual events.

For today, he gave me some good advice on reaching the touch pads with more fluidity, the Timely twins beat their overall time at the freestyle relay, Emmett got over his grief, and we ended on an overall satisfied note.

We had worked twice as hard this afternoon, all of us aware we had Saturday off to recuperate.

Once practice was officially over, Evan joined us for a group session and his very first swimming lesson. The boys tossed some pool noodles around, and he hitchhiked atop them with his tail wagging.

Conan gave me a hug afterward in the locker room and reminded me the team would be going out to our traditional, morale-building dinner off campus tonight. "Attendance is mandatory," he said, pinching my nose.

I met Alice on the way out, bouncing on her toes. "Hey," she called out to me. "Guess what? Jasper will here Sunday!"

A host of laughs burst out behind us. "She's a bright one," said Jack, dancing past us. "We better see you Sunday, Jasper."

"Haha, yeah," I said, then pulled Alice in. "Are you serious?"

"She better be," said Edward over my shoulder. "Why, you planning on skipping out of the meet?"

"Hell no!" I said.

"Good, now get changed for dinner."

The restaurant this time around was pretty fancy in ambiance though not in cuisine, with string lights forming a canopy above us outside, and the entire team huddled around a fire pit roasting our preferred veggies or meat. I shoved a mushroom onto a spit and placed it within the blaze.

Edward to my right and Emmett to my left, I was at peace with the moment.

Underneath the stars and twinkling lights, I thought back to our very first competition together as a team.

The individual heats went well with Edward and Damien scoring us high marks, and coming really close to each other in the breaststroke event they and Stephen all competed in. Emmett infuriated me by beating me at the backstroke, but I schooled him in the breaststroke, which he found hilarious.

"You're the one with the best breasts, get it?" he had said.

My freestyle time was supposed to be unbeatable, and with each swimmer only allowed to participate in four heats, Edward left it to me to win. But a swimmer from an opposing school got in my head with some nasty insults about my body. Marsden nodded at me from the adjacent lane, and told me I was a puny excuse for a Croc, much too short to ever qualify for more than Santa's Little Helper. I was too fresh then to let the mind games go. But I would be seeing him this Sunday as a seasoned competitor with something to prove.

"Hello, boys, mind if I join?"

We all looked up at the sound of Principal Carlisle Cullen's smooth voice. Sharply dressed in a white button down and tan suede vest, he walked over to squeeze into the circle of couches between Edward and me.

"Son," he said, grasping Edward's shoulder in greeting. "And all of you, I just wanted to let you know how proud we are as an institution of your success in the pool and in the classroom. Your team has one of the highest cumulative GPAs of any other extracurricular organization on campus, second only to the Academic Decathlon team, and that is no small achievement, especially given you have 30 members. That means these two outliers sitting beside me are not the main culprits for your excellence, and even Emmett is up for honors this semester."

"Hey!"

"Take the compliment, McCarty. You did set your locker on fire last year."

"Speaking of my locker, sir—"

Principal Cullen looked alarmed and cut in, "Well, let's eat then."

Emmett leaned back with a pout, but he bounced back when he got to devour half my steak.

"So Mr. Hale," began our newest dinner guest.

I gulped and turned to face Mr. Cullen. "Yes, sir?"

"How's my girl doing?"

"Alice? I think she's even more excited for Sunday than I am."

He raised a brow. "Because you lack the motivation to care?"

"No, sir."

Edward leaned forward. "Jasper clocks in more time at the pool than all of us, just so he can clock the least time when it matters."

"That so?" his father asked, never looking away from my face. "And have your life goals shifted then, from acting to swimming so suddenly?"

"Oh, no, sir, I'm doing both," I said quickly.

He raised a brow. "Haven't seen you at the Palooza recently."

"You go to the Palooza?"

Edward was laughing over his father's shoulder, and I had never wanted anything more than to punch him between the legs right there and then.

"Mr. Cullen," I began instead, gathering my courage, "I've known your daughter for a long time now and tried my best to make her happy. Have I done something I'm not aware of to upset you?"

"Oh no, son, you're aware of them all. Excuse me," said Mr. Cullen, turning away to speak with Edward.

"That was brutal," whispered Emmett.

And that's when I realized my forgotten portobello mushroom had turned into a charcoal brick within the fire.

Saturday morning, I woke to Edward's anxious ritual of speed chess against himself.

I did not even bother trying to get him to look up. It never worked.

Instead, I hid Evan in my coat and rushed off to the delicious weekend breakfast served in the massive school cafeteria, where Alice and I had once disturbed Mike Newton to apoplectic degrees with our staged groping sessions. Today, however, we had a starkly opposite goal in mind for the boy.

"Mike, sit by me," I called.

His blonde head snapped up from his cereal bowl, and he made his way over just as Alice arrived. "Forget it," he said, turning around.

"No, no, please come," Alice said, taking his arm. "I have seen your future, Mikey, and it is bright."

"What? Not your ESP BS again, Alice."

"Don't make me regret this," she growled. "SIT."

I finished sneaking Evan some sausage and pulled out my phone to shoot off a text. We chitchatted with Mike for a few minutes, the tension still thick, when Conan O'Donoghue from the swim team showed up. "Jasper, what's this about, bro?"

I stood up and hugged the team member with the biggest heart and my favorite honey-colored eyes, excited to do something for him for once. "I wanted to introduce you to Mike Newton. He needs tips on getting into an engineering college, and we're all proud of how you snagged early acceptance to Redford Tech. Got a few minutes to chat with him?"

Mike and Conan were both pleased to discuss engineering and with some deft maneuvering by Alice, they forgot anyone else was there by the end-of-breakfast bell.

Alice and I walked off with happy smiles, and I had to ask, "So who's gonna make the first pass at the other?"

"Who do you think?"

I slung an arm around her shoulders. "Dear Mikey."

As for my love life, Edward had set up a sweet little date for us on Saturday, just a chill 90-minute movie night with Bella so he could get to sleep early for the meet.

"You excited for tomorrow?" I asked, lying against his long, lean body on the small couch of ours surrounded by tea lights.

He chuckled. "Yeah, and you?"

"Oh, I'm excited for you too."

He tipped my head up and nipped my nose.

With Sunday morning looming ahead for all of us, I kissed him soundly goodbye and headed off to change at Alice's place, which she had to herself this evening. I was ready to reappear as my male counterpart, the prodigal twin Jasper Swan. He was the best fraternal twin a girl could ask for, even if he was never around anymore.

But just as I walked into Alice's dorm room, I heard a loud gasp.

There, on the sofa, I encountered a scene in horror films everywhere.

I screamed.

Jasper scrambled off of Alice, both of them completely naked. "NO," I shouted, "DON'T SHOW ME THAT!"

He stumbled to the side and opened his arms wide, "MiniMe! I missed you."

"GET AWAY FROM ME."

He did the opposite, chasing me around the room.

I was livid. "ALICE, YOU KNEW I WAS COMING BACK!"

But Alice looked to be fast asleep by the time we lapped around the room. I fell on my knees to her side. "You okay?"

Jasper fell on his knees too, just behind me, but then fell over completely. That's when I noticed the wine bottles strewn about the common area.

"I do not need this headache right now," I whispered.

"Me neither. It's so painful," moaned Jasper.

"So this is why Principal Cullen hates you."

"Alright, hand them over." Coach Drake gathered all our phones into a locked box, as he did before each competition. "Swan, is that a — Poseidon forbid—a yawn?"

"No, sir," I said, snapping my mouth shut.

Edward glared at me from across the locker room, knowing full well I had returned late to our rooms last night. Although he did not know it was because the task of ensuring my brother and his lover were safely on their stomachs in bed took me a while. Jasper was a slippery fish when drunk. Kind of like me when sober.

"How'd it go with Mike?" I asked Conan under my breath.

He gave me a thumbs up, and we beamed at each other.

And so the maelstrom of competition began. We walked out to the school marching band's rendition of Queen's "We Will Rock You" to see the stands packed full with nearly five hundred spectators, and the stadium-size screen plastered with rotating videos of our swimmers' stats. My face suddenly lit up that screen, and I touched my swim cap, still doing its duty covering my longish hair, with apprehension.

The crowds had been large before, but this was by far the largest.

Edward slung an arm over my shoulder. "Don't be scared."

"Edward?"

"It's a team captain's job to remind his swimmers that everything will turn out for the best."

"How can you know that?"

"I don't. But I do know you, and you're more sea creature than land mammal."

My face burned with shame at my dishonesty. "Look, Edward. I need to tell you something—"

"Not now."

"Hmm?"

"Whatever it is, you can tell me later. Momentous revelations shouldn't come before momentous games, okay? Stay in the right headspace." He patted my head.

I laughed, admittedly relieved. "Okay, sure. So how's Marsden looking today?"

"I don't know about Marsden, but your parents look great." He pointed to the stands.

Charlie and my mom Renee, despite ten years of divorce, sat side by side on the bleachers with Alice, who waved a banner brightly when I turned their way. "I cannot believe this."

"I figured they deserved to see this day," said Edward.

"Wait, you did this?"

But Edward had moved off to get in position for the first heat, the 200 meter backstroke. He flapped his arms back and forth, stretched a bit, and pulled his goggles over his eyes. Conan and Jack rounded out our three point-scoring entries for the heat.

I looked over at Coach Drake with eagerness.

"This'll be great," I said.

He shoved a hand in my face. "No talking."

And there was Marsden, smirking at me from a couple lanes away from our guys. Nearly as tall as Edward, he still lacked the wingspan that made Edward a bigger threat in the pool, and he did not make up for it in natural talent either, just sported that cocksure smile.

The long whistle blew.

The boys dropped in and took their formal starting positions, the backstroke beginning in the water unlike all the other strokes, which opened on the block. They faced the wall and grabbed the grips on the start block, only one swimmer opting for the wall edge.

The starter said, "Take your mark." The boys pulled their heads in towards the wall and grew still. Then came the beep that featured in all my dreams of Olympic glory.

"And here we go," boomed Teddy's commentary. "Jacobsen off to a good start just ahead of Cullen, a bit of a shark who lurks behind in nearly every 200 meter heat, biding his time for the last 50 meter push. Not much of a lead by anyone just yet. Here comes the first underwater turn phase. Studies have consistently show that 'performance in the start and turn phases have a key influence on the swimming race outcome.' I have it on good authority that Cullen shares this quote with his baby Crocs at nearly every practice."

I preened, knowing I was that authority.

"And Cullen takes the lead with one seriously explosive turn. Whoah. Jacobsen now lagging, but only by 0.05 seconds. Smooth form all around. Cullen holds on to his lead, gaining distance from his competitors with each stroke. Wait! He's shoulder to shoulder with now McCarty in Lane 6. A surprising burst of speed from both his teammates. Jack Handelsberg now pushing forward into third place. Robert Marsden last in the pack, as they say."

I held still during the final turn phase. Our boys broke through the surface way ahead, and finished that last length in style.

"Cullen takes first," Teddy screamed with no objectivity whatsoever. "Coldridge sweeps the top three."

The stands thundered with sound.

Drake nodded his head at me, and I hurried off to prepare for my first heat, the 50 meter freestyle, while the next one began. I was notorious for needing to be a totally separate headspace, as Drake had figured out early on.

I popped in my earbuds and raised the volume to a deafening level. I passed the time this way, glancing up routinely while waiting my turn. Our team's early lead in the points did not last long. Orwell High caught up soon enough.

Near the middle of the event, Damien slapped me on the back. "We're up. Let's score some more points for the team, Swan."

I stood on the block of my assigned lane, refusing to look up or oblige any distractions past this point.

The water looked especially reflective today, the sky such a deep azure blue. I picked a cloud and stared at it a moment, falling into my favorite pre-heat trance of habit.

The starter announced, "Take your mark."

I grabbed the edge of the block, still but tense down to my core. The starter's beep. I pushed off with my stronger right foot and dove in to the competition.

Each breath, each stroke, each turn felt smooth. I couldn't always tell where my competitors were and didn't waste worry over it. The final tumble turn came and went. And there was the touch pad, ready for my outstretched arm.

I broke surface and turned around, eyes hungry for the big screen and the scores.

The cheers were deafening, and there it was, I won!

I popped over to the adjacent lane for a hug with Damien, his time just 0.5 seconds behind mine.

The cheers were mixed in with a lot of booing, however, and when we turned to the side, we could see Marsden throwing a fit, splashing water with such anger, it hit the Deck Referee kneeling at the pool's edge.

Padding off toward my team, Edward came over for a quick but fierce embrace. "Well done. You almost broke a record, kid."

I gestured anxiously towards Marsden, the question in my eyes.

Edward just shook his head. "He had a pretty textbook false start. Disqualified. Now get those earbuds on. You're up again soon."

The team continued to do well, neck and neck with Orwell. Finally, it all came down to the 4x100 medley relay, slated for Damien, Emmett, Edward, and me.

I was jittery despite the music and trying for better inner peace when someone tapped my shoulder. I shrugged them off. They should know better right now. But my earbuds were torn away a second later, and Coach Drake was staring at me with such anger that my blood went cold.

He stepped aside, so that I could see—

A huge video of Jasper's dangling bits on the big screen.

He appeared to be streaking across the quad at some point in the evening, screaming, "Woohoo, I don't go here anymore!" A few pelvic thrusts were then played on repeat.

Teddy's commentary cut through the din, "Jasper Swan is packing so much heat it's a wonder his pickle and nuts don't create drag in the pool."

Up in the stands, my dad was nodding with pride as a mother covered her child's eyes behind him.

My team appeared horrified but at the same time could not look away from my crotch.

"How does that even fit into a knee skin suit?" Teddy asked the audience with some frustration. "And it looks like quite a chilly night for shrinkage. SO MANY QUESTIONS. I am therefore passing the baton to a more senior expert on this growing situation, Mr. Mike Newton."

Drake's murderous demeanor worsened. This was certainly not acceptable behavior in line with the student code of conduct. And that could mean…automatic disqualification.

"First and foremost," Mike's voice rose through the loudspeakers as I struggled not to cry, "I take this as the ultimate vindication."

Principal Cullen stalked towards us, shouting at someone in charge of the screen and pulling along another student by his shirt. He held a megaphone in one hand, and the boy's lapel in the other.

"That is not me, sir. I swear it's like…physically impossible," I said as soon he was within earshot.

Coach Drake spat out, "Are you castrated or something?"

"No, sir." My face was flaming, the indignity of being shamed for a body that was not even my own so confusing.

Principal Cullen shoved forward the boy I now recognized as the newspaper's editor-in-chief, Anderson Rose.

Cullen said, "Seems Anderson here obtained and supplied the footage we are now so happily viewing."

"Why?" I asked Anderson. "Why are you doing this?"

Anderson's face was growing redder and redder. Suddenly, he snatched the megaphone and turned it on, saying,"This team is a joke! From a doped up water boy to a streaking swimmer, they don't deserve any recognition. I, Anderson Rose, have uncovered the truth and —"

Principal Cullen wrestled the megaphone back, and announced into it, "Jasper Swan and Anderson Rose have both broken the student code of conduct, one for disorderly behavior and public nudity, and the other for dissemination of pornographic material."

"Pornographic material," I moaned in despair.

"We may assume immediate expulsion is on the table," whispered Mike Newton into his microphone, "but no less sexual attention."

There was no way this is how it would end. If I couldn't swim anymore, then what was the point? I had to clear my name. I must have gotten a crazy glint in my eyes because Edward came rushing forward.

He grabbed my shoulder. "No, don't do it."

"You don't understand," I shouted.

"Look, I know what you know," said Edward.

"What is it you know?"

"Everything you think I don't know."

"What do I know that you don't think I know you know?"

Edward blinked.

"Whatever. Screw this cryptic conversation." I pulled the straps of my suit down to my waist and faced the audience.

The gasps were so loud, they may have been worse than the heckling.

Edward sighed, "And there it is."

"Wait, you knew?"

"I just said I did, didn't I?"

"What magnificent breasts Jasper Swan has. My name is Theodore Shillings and I am here for it. According to WebMD, hermaphrodites are born at a rate of 1.3 in 1,000 births. WebMD: when you need evidentiary support to predict your own death."

"Well, I'm out," announced Mike, walking off.

In the stands, Charlie was slapping his eyes pretty hard as Renee cheered, "THAT'S MY GIRL! SEE? ALL THAT SHEA BUTTER WORKED, CHARLIE. NOT A STRETCH MARK ON HER CHEST."

Someone else jeered, "There's nothing on that chest to stretch it out."

Charlie jumped him, shouting, "You take that back!"

I was oddly touched, and then I was physically touched, as Edward flipped me around to press against him. I looked up into concerned green eyes. "I'm not a hermaphrodite, I swear," I whispered.

"I know, honey."

Carlisle cut in, "Edward, what the hell is going on here?"

And that's when he showed up.

Shouting into his personal megaphone, Jasper said, "It is I! Jasper Swan, the star of your screen!"

Carlisle swiped it away from him. "There are two of you here?"

"I'm Isabella," I said, exposed chest still pressed against Edward's front side.

"And I am Jasper. My sister had nothing to do with the drunken streaking, as you can see. Let the final inning resume!"

Drake pushed him. "This isn't baseball, you moron. And how can we know you're not both women at this point?"

Jasper dropped his pants.

"Why in the hell would you ask him that?" cried Carlisle.

The crowd went wild. Mike was back at the microphone and Teddy's voice had lost all coherence.

"NEVER LEAVE THE GAME EARLY, PEOPLE. THAT IS A LESSON WE TAKE WITH US FROM TODAY," Mike was saying.

I think I saw Conan dying from laughter in the distance.

"Jasper and Anderson, you are both hereby expelled! Isabella, you are disqualified from the men's team and expulsion will be discussed immediately in my office," said Carlisle. "Let's go."

"Father!"

Carlisle turned at Edward's harsh voice. "A woman on a men's team may not be technically allowed. But a principal fucking a teacher on campus…Well, that's technically not allowed either."

Carlisle's face went corpse white. He stuttered for a while before getting out, "Uh, be that as it may, she cannot play for this team."

"May I refer you to the Title IX statute, sir?" came a voice I had not heard in a while.

Behind us stood James. The person I thought would rat me out all along.

He took Jasper's megaphone and quoted for everyone, "Title IX generally prohibits a recipient institution from excluding, separating, denying benefits to, or otherwise treating students differently on the basis of sex in its educational programs or activities unless expressly authorized to do so under Title IX."

James smiled at me and continued, "We are not a religious private school, so we're not exempt from this rule. Plus, our women's swim team disbanded earlier this year due to lack of signups. Isabella Swan is well within her rights to compete in this event."

He passed back the megaphone and said, "You should have listened to my advice earlier on, Edward, and you'd have avoided a whole lot of scandal…and nudity."

Edward looked more shell-shocked than when I had aired my nips. He said, "I thought you had it out for our team, James. I apologize."

"Contrary to popular belief, I only wrote that old article at the behest of my asshole of an editor, and it wasn't supposed to affect the team, just expose the seedy underbelly of drugs on campus. What kind of swim team even needs a water boy?"

Edward just smiled and held me tighter, turning to Carlisle. "Well, dad, what's the verdict?"

The principal sighed. "Why do you care so much, son?"

"I love her."

The crowd had cheered so hard when Edward pulled me in for a kiss, I would never forget the euphoria of the moment.

Emmett and the other guys piled atop us. When I finally got a good look at them, I was just glad no one seemed personally affronted or angry at my deception. Then I realized, my nips were still out.

Edward pulled my suit straps up so roughly, I probably should have been propelled into the sky.

And now, I finally stood at the edge of the pool with Damien, Emmett, and Edward for the 4x100 medley relay, a four-person event that would determine the final results of the day.

Everything was hinging on this performance in the water. Each of us would complete a lap then pass off the turn by hitting the touchpad. As Damien would be starting us off with the backstroke, he moved to get into starting position.

But something slammed into me, and I went flying over the pool edge, taking Damien with me.

Gasping, I looked up from the water, to see Edward had Marsden in a chokehold.

I looked over at Damien, treading water beside me. "What just happened? Oh, shit." I pulled myself forward and held onto my teammate.

"What's wrong?" he said, helping me to the safety of the wall.

"My foot. It hurts."

Marsden had not taken disqualification well. "How the hell are you still here?" he was shouting in my direction, as I was being helped out of the pool. "What you did is ten times worse, you freak!"

Emmett and Edward shoved him into the arms of security with a bit more force than necessary.

My foot was a little banged up, my right big toe scraped. The medical assessment declared me fit to compete, but I knew I couldn't use my dominant foot to push off the block now.

Edward took my face in his hands, "You can sit this one out. No?" He chuckled at my stubborn face. "Alright, let's give them hell."

I stood between my boys as Damien dropped into the pool. The race was on.

Damien gave us a good lead, his swimming always an honor to behold. He passed it off to Emmett for the breaststroke, but that early lead diminished because Orwell had a notoriously fast speedster for this stroke. Edward took position, ready to dive in as soon as possible, not a fraction of a second to spare in this situation.

He took off about half a pool's length behind Orwell. But Edward was the individual butterfly champion for a reason, and he gained back some ground by the 50 meter mark.

We were still behind when I took starting position on the block, my body not used to this mirrored version pushing off with my left leg. But I took a look at Edward blazing ahead without hesitation and chose to emulate my captain.

Off I went with as explosive a start as possible, my toe stinging but my eyes straight ahead for the heretofore most important front crawl of my life.

That last smooth glide towards the touchpad felt surreal, the world rippling around me and I, rippling with it. When I surfaced, I stared at the wall a moment, terrified to check the scoreboard.

My head turned, and the tears fell.

"You did it, Swan!" bellowed Emmett, the boys all pounding at their chests in that exultant, barbaric way I loved so much.

I slapped the water with my hand and was overcome. The boys practically pulled me out as the celebrations grew hysterical.

Teddy made his final announcement. "This truly was the swimming event of the decade. May the replays live on in our dreams. If you know what I mean."