“I don’t get why you like this so much—it tastes like sugar,” Sam said, before he noticed the shock on my face.
“What was that?” I asked. My voice came out an octave higher than usual.
“I tried your ice cream,” he said. Which, okay, I know was obvious, but the way a current buzzed across my skin, he might as well have licked my earlobe.
* * *
AS MY DISTANCES increased, Sam rowed beside me in case I ran into trouble and as protection from other boaters. When I suggested he turn on the motor so he could relax, he brushed me off, saying I didn’t need gasoline in my lungs while I swam. I practiced daily, dead set on making it to the other side of the lake by the end of August.
The week before my big swim, I waited in the Floreks’ kitchen for Sam to change into his bathing suit, helping Sue unload the dishwasher.
“Did he tell you he’s lifting his dad’s old weights every morning before his run?” Sue asked me as she put a pair of glasses into the cupboard. I shook my head.
“He’s really into the whole fitness thing, huh?”
Sue hummed. “I think he wants to make sure he can pull you out if he needs to,” she said, squeezing my shoulder.
On the morning of the swim, I made my way down to the water, Mom and Dad following with mugs of coffee and an old-school camera. When Sam came down to the dock, I walked over in my bare feet, holding my towel and goggles.
“Today’s the day. How are you feeling?” Sam asked from the boat when I padded onto the dock.
“Good, actually. I can do this.” I beamed and threw my towel in with him.
“Good, good,” he muttered, checking around the boat for something. He seemed . . . nervous.
“How are you feeling?” I asked. He looked up at me and scrunched his nose.
“I know you’ll do great, but I gotta admit I’m a little worried if something goes wrong.” I hadn’t heard Sam sound panicked before. But today he was panicked. I stepped down into the boat.
“The water’s calm, you know CPR, you have an extra life jacket as well as a life preserver, there’s a whistle in the boat to call for help, not that you’ll need it since we have an audience.” I pointed up to where my parents had joined Charlie and Sue on the deck, and waved at them.
“We’re rooting for you, Percy,” Sue called down.
“And,” I continued, “I’m an excellent swimmer. There’s nothing to worry about.” Sam took a deep breath. He looked a bit pale. I wrapped my finger around his bracelet. “I swear, okay?”
“You’re right,” he sighed. “Just remember to take a break if you need to—you can always float for a bit.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “So, should we do this thing?”
“Let’s,” Sam said. “I’d wish you luck, but you don’t need it.”
Once I was in the water, I pulled my goggles on, gave Sam a thumbs-up, and then turned my attention to the far shore—a small, rocky beach was my target destination. I took three deep breaths, then pushed off from the lake bottom with my feet and set off in a steady front crawl, my arms and feet working in tandem to propel me forward. I didn’t rush my strokes, and soon the rhythm became almost automatic, my body taking over from my mind. I could see the side of the boat when I tilted my head for air, but I didn’t pay it much attention. I was doing it! I was swimming across the lake. My lake. With Sam beside me. A rush of pride ran through me, powering me on and distracting me from the burning in my legs and the ache in my neck. I kept going, slowing down when I needed to catch my breath.
I switched to breaststrokes for several minutes to relieve the tension building in my shoulders, then resumed the crawl. At times, I could hear Sam cheering me on, but I had no idea what he was saying. Every so often I’d raise a thumbs-up in his direction to let him know I was okay.
The closer I got, the stiffer my limbs began to feel. The ache in my neck and shoulders grew intensely, and I struggled to keep my focus on my breathing. I clenched my jaw against the pain, but I didn’t stop. I knew I wouldn’t. I was going to make it. And when I did, I pulled my body up on the sandy shore, flung my goggles aside, and lay with my head on my hands, my legs still in the water, breathing fire through my lungs. I didn’t even hear Sam pull the boat up on the beach—didn’t notice him until he was crouched beside me with his hand on my back.
“Percy, are you okay?” He shook me gently, but I couldn’t move. It was like my body was covered by the lead blanket they make you wear for an X-ray. Sam’s voice was suddenly right in my ear. “Percy? Percy? Let me know if you’re okay.” I turned my head to him and opened one eye. He was inches away, his face lined with worry.