Deep End(13)

Lukas shakes his head and sighs deeply, long feet peeking through the grass. And there, in the rise and fall of his shoulders, I finally see it. The strain that comes with a splintering relationship. I picture the late-night conversations, the incessant texting, the fights that led to their breakup.

“She shouldn’t have told me about your . . . not without your permission,” I say. “You might want to ask her to stop doing it.” A bit presumptive, to assume that this classically handsome athlete with citizenship in a universal-healthcare country might need my advice. But I remember the way Dad used to be with Barb and me. How he’d gnaw at us and strip away even the thinnest of layers, until what we wanted was of no importance and the world revolved around him. It’s not something I’ll ever take for granted, the ability to say no.

“I don’t mind,” he says, almost reassuringly. The don’t worry is implied. He has a steady, calming, problem-shouldering presence that tells me everything I need to know about how good he’d be at . . . well. All that stuff that got us in this mortifying situation to begin with.

“I had no idea she’d say any of this,” I blurt out.

“I figured. You looked about to faint.”

“It was a close call.”

We exchange a tired, soft-edged smile. Just our eyes, really. “I doubt Pen knew she’d say it, either. Or that she’ll remember tomorrow.”

“Still . . . I’m sorry. I told Pen about my experience, thinking it would help, but I didn’t mean to be up in your business or—”

“Luuuk, can we go home now?” she interrupts.

He bites the inside of his lip. Gives me one last look. “Goodbye, Scarlett.”

I wave and watch him leave, his steps relaxed, his brown hair almost golden in the setting sun. Once he and Pen disappear behind the house, I tip my head back to look up at the sky. Push that Where are Scarlett and I going to meet?— the near-perfect pronunciation, the closed o’s, the telltale s’s—out of my mind. Let my heart slow to a normal speed, and tell myself that decades from now, when I’m frail and prune-hearted in the retirement home, and the AI nurse feeding me steamed brussels sprouts asks, What is the most bonkers thing that ever happened to you? my mind will instantly zero in on this conversation.

I don’t even know how wrong I am.





CHAPTER 7


I’M SORRY, WHAT WAS THAT?”

For every session, there are a lot of silences between Sam and me. Because she asks hard questions that I cannot answer, and doesn’t move on until she has received some kind of reply.

I guess it’s how therapy works.

“I said, has this ever happened to you before?”

“And by ‘this,’ you mean . . . ?”

“This block of yours.”

“Right.” I shake my head. “No. No, it hasn’t.”

“Not even at a smaller scale?”

“Not really.”

She glances down at her notebook. “I did some research. It appears that lost move syndrome is a typical phenomenon in athletes. A sudden inability to perform a skill you had previously mastered.” She recites the last bit, like it’s a definition she’s quoting. Her eyes find mine through horn-rimmed glasses. “Does this description match what you are experiencing?”

I take as long as I can before nodding. Maybe the more I delay this, the less true it will become.

“Twisties,” I say eventually. “Or yips. That’s what we divers call them.”





CHAPTER 8


PENELOPE: Funny story.

PENELOPE: I woke up this morning with a huge headache. Couldn’t figure out why. Then I remembered what happened last night and started praying for my bones to turn into lava.

PENELOPE: I have no words for how dumb I was. I think I only had two drinks—I have no clue how I got that drunk. And it’s not an excuse. I’m so sorry, Vandy.

As she should be.

SCARLETT: I think Coach’s home brew might be stronger than regular beer. The twins were pretty wasted, too, and I ended up driving Victoria’s car back home.

PENELOPE: Bet the NCAA would LOVE to hear that.

SCARLETT: Moving forward, though, please don’t blurt out facts about my sex life.

PENELOPE: God, I promise I won’t! I swear I’m not usually that shitty. And honestly, I’m your captain. What I did was totally sexual harassment, and you have every right to report me.

SCARLETT: It’s okay. You’re forgiven, this once. Plus, this whole thing will give us both an edge in future Never have I ever games.

PENELOPE: LMAO two truths and a lie, too.

PENELOPE: “I pee in the pool.” “I hate tomatoes.” “I once got so wasted that I tried to get my ex and my teammate to fuck each other.”

SCARLETT: Very worried atm since I’ve seen you eat tomatoes with my own two eyes.

PENELOPE: They pump so much chlorine in there!

SCARLETT: I’m officially making myself unknow this about you. Never mention it again.

SCARLETT: Is Lukas mad?

PENELOPE: I called him this morning to grovel, but he just shrugged it off. It’s impossible to make Lukas mad. He’s literally the most unfazed human in the universe.

A few days ago I’d have guessed the opposite—that he’d be the silent treatment type, surly and prone to anger. But that was just a hunch, based on my general assumption that men can be scary and unpredictable.