The off-season workouts became quite an event. It started as Paige, Emily, and Vicki getting together informally, but, soon, Vicki's roommate, Jana, wanted in. Little by little, more and more of the team's freshmen came on board, and Emily found herself coordinating the pool, gym, and track time schedule for the freshmen. Coach Meehan got wind of the way that his freshmen had stepped up to organize themselves, and he was impressed.
When Spring Hosting came around, Paige and Emily signed up to host one of the high school seniors who was being recruited by the swim team. "She's from the Philadelphia area," Paige pointed out, when she saw whom they'd been assigned. "Do you know her?"
"The name sounds familiar. I'm pretty sure I've competed against her – maybe we were in camp together."
Paige was thinking that the name sounded familiar, too. The fact that she was being recruited by Stanford meant that she must have made a name for herself.
April had definitely heard of Paige and Emily, and she was excited to hear that they would be her hosts for the weekend. Once the recruits got signed in and received an overview from the coaches, their hosts came and picked them up. Paige and Emily took April to the cafeteria for dinner. They couldn't help noticing the wide-eyed way that she was staring at them.
"We were trying to figure out whether or not we ever swam against you," Emily told her when they settled in at a table. "Your name sounds familiar."
"I was at the regionals in spring of 2014, your senior year. You guys were both amazing," April said, somewhat star-struck. "I was on the relay team. I swam anchor against you," she said, looking at Paige. "You wouldn't remember. You beat us rather handily!"
"Oh, April Brockman!" Paige exclaimed in recognition. "I remember the film from that race." The race wasn't close by the time that April got into the water, but she was able to close the gap between a lot of the other swimmers. "You really moved through the water. We called you the torpedo!"
April was in awe of the fact that the two swimmers she had idolized actually knew who she was. Emily assured her that she wouldn't be recruited by Stanford if she wasn't top-notch. "Everyone here is, pretty much, the best on her high school team. I'm not saying that to intimidate you. I'm just saying, don't treat us as though we're something special. If you come to Stanford, we're going to push you and you're going to push us. We each make each other better."
"You wouldn't be here if you weren't elite. And I, for one, am salivating at the prospect of having you on my team."
Paige and Emily were apprehensive about the sleeping arrangements. They certainly weren't going to deny who they were, but, at the same time, they didn't want to spook the high-schooler. And, as childish as it may seem, they really didn't want to sleep alone. When they got back to the room and got ready for bed, Amy pulled out a sleeping bag.
"Actually, you can take that bed," Paige said, pointing to what used to be Emily's bed.
"Oh, really? The list said that we should bring a sleeping bag."
"You're welcome to the bed," Emily assured her. "I'm sure it'll be more comfortable. Paige and I usually double up."
It took a second for the implications of that statement to sink in. "Oh… So you guys are – " Paige and Emily hung in suspense at the word that Amy was going to come up with. "more than just roommates, then?" she finished.
"We started out as just roommates. We weren't planning on anything more. We didn't really even know each other till Stanford. It's not typical!" Paige had the sudden compulsion to tell Amy her life story. Emily put her hand on Paige's forearm to calm her down.
"If it makes you uncomfortable, we'll sleep in separate beds," Emily explained. "We just wanted you to know that you're not putting us out by taking the bed."
"Oh, no, that's not what I meant. I don't have a problem with you two being together. I just didn't know." Amy went on to ask them the usual questions: Were they out to the team, how did the coaches feel about team members dating, did they encounter homophobia. Emily and Paige answered the questions patiently.
"Are you asking just out of curiosity, or is there another reason?" Emily asked her.
"Just curious. I guess that you'd call me an ally. I know that this sounds like a cliché, but a lot of my best friends are gay. I know some of the crap they face in high school, and I thought I could tell them something about your experience."
On Saturday morning, Paige and Emily took Amy through the training rooms, finishing at the pool, where she and the other recruits swam for the coaches. Her times were impressive. The recruits and their hosts joined the coaches and staff for lunch at the training table, and it was off to the airport. Amy insisted on getting a selfie with the two of them before she boarded the shuttle. "My teammates will be so jealous that I got to room with both of you!"
When the coaches asked Paige and Emily for their impression, they gave Amy an unqualified yes, on the strength of her swimming and on the fact that she would be a great teammate.
Emily thought a lot about what Amy had said about taking information back to her friends who had had bad experiences in high school. She thought that this might be an area in which she and Paige could help when they volunteered at Rosewood. She and Paige pulled up the "It Gets Better" web site and checked out ways to get involved.
The training cooperative that had evolved from Paige, Emily, and Vicki's joint offseason workouts grew into a study cooperative as well, when finals rolled around and the teammates organized themselves into study cells. Bob, Vicki's boyfriend, even pitched in to tutor the swimmers who needed help with math or physics.
It was still a stressful time for Paige. Emily could feel Paige shutting her out, the way that she did when she was focusing before a race; – drawing herself inward and blocking out the rest of the world. It was the most frustrating thing, knowing that the woman whom she loved was feeling so much stress, but not being allowed to help her. Paige heard Emily sigh several times as they studied at their desks. She knew what it was all about, but she pretended to be in the zone, unable to hear the sighs. She was starting to wish that she had just gone to the library to study.
When Emily couldn't stand it anymore, she got up and walked over to Paige's desk. Paige cringed inside. Emily knew that Paige wouldn't want to talk, so she didn't talk. She just stood behind her with her hands on Paige's shoulders. She knew not to ask, "Are you okay?" or say that she was there for her, so she decided just to be there for her physically. She pointedly avoided sighing again. Paige just kept studying, as if Emily wasn't even there. Finally, Emily pressed a kiss into Paige's hair and patted her shoulder. As she turned to walk away, Paige grabbed her wrist. She turned around in her chair and pulled Emily into her lap. She held her close, her lips pressed into her temple all the while. Emily hoped that it wouldn't always be like this when Paige was struggling. She would need to discuss it with Paige, but at a time and in a way that wouldn't make her defensive. For now, she was just grateful that Paige didn't get like this very often.
Emily got up and went back to her desk. A few minutes later, she heard her phone beep on the nightstand. She walked over to check and was confused to see whom it was from.
Paige 3: Study Break?
Paige's phone was sitting next to hers on the nightstand. She couldn't figure out how Paige could have texted her. "Paige?" She shot Paige a confused look.
Paige got up and gave her a half-smile. "Take a walk with me?"
They headed out into the warm night holding hands. Paige's grip was almost painfully tight. Emily waited for Paige to speak. It was a long wait. Finally, Paige said, "I know that it's hard for you when I get like this, and I wish that I had more control over it."
"I just wish that I knew how to help you, Paige." Paige bristled on the inside. She didn't need help. "It just makes me feel as though you don't need me."
Paige stopped and turned to face Emily, taking both of her hands. "You know that that's not true, Em."
"Yeah, I know it, Paige. I'm telling you what it feels like, and it feels horrible."
"I'm sorry," Paige said, and they started walking again.
"So, what are we going to do?"
"I don't know."
They walked in silence a while before Emily asked, "Paige – that text?"
Paige laughed. "I programmed my phone to text you after 90 minutes. You know, in case I wasn't in a talking mood."
Emily grabbed her around the middle and smiled, shaking her head. "Thank you," she said.
"How much more studying do you have to do tonight?" Paige asked as they headed back to the room.
"Not too much. Why?"
"I was hoping that we could knock off early. Just cuddle tonight."
Emily had learned that, in those times when Paige got stressed and didn't feel like talking, she also got insecure and clingy. Emily needed to feel connected to Paige, too. "Of course we can," she said. "I'd like that."
Finals were finally over, and Paige and Emily were in the mood to party. It's just a shame that they went to Stanford. There was usually something going on at the frats, but it was hardly what could be called a party school. Vicki had some friends from high school who went to Cal. That's how they found themselves in Berkeley on a Friday night. Bob wasn't a drinker, so they had a ride home afterwards.
"So, how is this different than the fraternities at Stanford?" Paige asked Vicki, yelling to be heard.
"It's just nice to get off campus – check out a different scene."
"Dance with me!" Emily pleaded, pulling Paige into the area where drunken undergrads were bumping into each other to the driving beat of the music. Paige was just as eager to get out there with her. They both needed a physical release after the rigors of their first year. But that was all behind them, now. It was time to dance.
They found a spot on the floor and danced with pure ecstasy and abandon. They had always been able to communicate physically, and, in times of stress, their physical communication could actually rival their verbal communication. With their bodies, they were saying, I missed you. I need you. I love you. I want you. I want you.
The rest of the night was a blur. Before they realized how they got there, Paige and Emily were in the back seat of Vicki's car, going at it like - well, teenagers in the back seat. Had she not been wasted out of her mind, Vicki would've been embarrassed for them. Paige and Emily weren't drunk. They had been too busy on the dance floor to do much drinking. Bob was assiduously focused on the road, trying his best to ignore the goings on in the rear view mirror.
Their lovemaking that night was slow and tender. It wasn't about getting each other off, but about connecting physically; a continuation of the communication that they had begun in their dancing. It felt like meeting – really meeting – each other for the first time.