Swim Meet

COUNTDOWN

Ten.

The alarm rang.

Maya Chen slapped blindly at the alarm clock on her nightstand.

Nine.

She missed.

The alarm continued screaming.

Eight.

“Come on…”

She found the button.

Seven.

Silence.

Maya lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

She sat upright.

Today was the day.

The Pinewood Pirates were going to the semifinals.

And they were swimming against the Timberwolves.

By six-thirty that morning, Pinewood High School's natatorium was already vibrating.

The Pirates' locker room smelled of chlorine, shampoo, athletic tape, and the unmistakable odor of twenty teenagers pretending they weren't nervous.

Maya stood in front of her locker, tightening the straps of her racing suit.

"How are we feeling?" Coach Ramirez called.

"Great!" someone shouted.

"Terrified!" someone else yelled.

"Same thing!"

Laughter erupted.

Maya smiled despite herself.

She looked around the locker room.

There was Jordan, their senior captain, bouncing nervously on his toes.

There was Elena, who had spent the entire season insisting that she "didn't care" about swimming and had somehow qualified for three individual events.

There was freshman Theo, who had spent the bus ride to the semifinals asleep against the window.

And there was Maya.

The Pirates.

One team.

One meet.

One chance.

Coach Ramirez clapped twice.

"Listen up!"

The locker room fell silent.

"The Timberwolves are good."

A groan.

"I didn't say they were unbeatable."

That got their attention.

"Their backstroke is stronger than ours. Their distance swimmers are strong. Their relay exchanges are fast. And they've got a couple of swimmers who can put serious points on the board."

He paused.

"But here's what they don't have."

Jordan raised an eyebrow.

"Pirates?"

"Exactly."

Everyone laughed.

Coach Ramirez pointed toward the door.

"Let's go."

The natatorium lights seemed brighter than usual.

The stands were packed.

Pinewood blue filled one side.

Timberwolves gray and black filled the other.

A handmade banner hung over the Pirates' section:

SAIL TO THE FINALS!

Maya stepped onto the pool deck.

The water was perfectly still.

That was the strange thing about swimming.

From the stands, it looked peaceful.

From behind the starting blocks, it looked like a battlefield.

An official raised a hand.

"Swimmers, take your marks."

Maya's heart hammered.

The starter's voice came through the speakers.

"Take your marks."

Everything disappeared.

The crowd.

The coaches.

The other swimmers.

The banners.

The noise.

There was only the block beneath her feet.

Only the water ahead.

Only the countdown in her head.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One—

BEEP!

Maya launched.

The first event belonged to Pinewood.

The Pirates' 200-yard medley relay won by less than a second.

The scoreboard flashed:

PINEWOOD — 8

TIMBERWOLVES — 6

The stands erupted.

Jordan climbed out of the pool, gasping.

"That's how we do it!"

Maya slapped his shoulder.

"One event."

"One event!"

"Twenty-nine more."

"Don't ruin the moment."

The Timberwolves answered immediately.

Their star backstroker, a tall girl named Avery Cole, demolished the field.

She touched the wall nearly five body lengths ahead.

The scoreboard changed.

PINEWOOD — 12

TIMBERWOLVES — 18

The Timberwolves section exploded.

Maya watched Avery climb out.

Avery looked over at her.

For a second, their eyes met.

Then Avery smiled.

Not arrogantly.

Almost apologetically.

Maya smiled back.

Oh, you're good.

Good.

Good was fine.

Good made the race worth winning.

The meet became a blur.

Whistles.

Splashes.

Scoreboards.

Starting commands.

Timers.

Countdowns.

Every race began the same way.

Swimmers took their marks.

The room held its breath.

Then—

BEEP!

And suddenly everyone was moving.

Fifty yards.

One hundred.

Two hundred.

Four hundred.

Back and forth.

Pinewood gained ground.

Timberwolves gained ground.

Pinewood lost ground.

Then gained it back.

At the halfway point, the scoreboard showed:

TIMBERWOLVES — 74

PINEWOOD — 71

Three points.

Only three.

Coach Ramirez gathered them around.

"We're close."

Jordan nodded.

"Really close."

Coach Ramirez looked at Maya.

"Your event is next."

The 100-yard freestyle.

Maya swallowed.

"Got it."

"No."

She looked at him.

"Don't 'got it' me. You know what I mean."

Maya smiled.

"Yes, Coach."

"Swim your race."

The official raised the starting horn.

Maya climbed onto the block.

Her fingers curled around the edge.

She could hear the crowd.

A thousand voices became one enormous hum.

Then the starter spoke.

"Take your marks."

Maya lowered herself.

Her breathing slowed.

Four seconds.

Three.

Two.

One.

BEEP!

She dove.

The first fifty yards were perfect.

She could hear nothing.

Feel nothing.

She simply swam.

Turn.

Push.

Stroke.

Breathe.

Stroke.

Breathe.

Stroke.

The final wall appeared.

Twenty yards.

Fifteen.

Ten.

She saw Avery beside her.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

They were even.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two—

Maya stretched.

SLAP!

The scoreboard updated.

She stared.

1. PINEWOOD

2. TIMBERWOLVES

She had won.

By six hundredths of a second.

The Pirates' side of the pool erupted.

Maya surfaced, gasping.

Jordan was screaming from the deck.

"MAYA!"

She laughed.

The scoreboard changed again.

PINEWOOD — 89

TIMBERWOLVES — 85

Four points.

The final events approached.

Every race became more important.

Every point mattered.

The Timberwolves surged.

Pinewood answered.

With five events remaining, the score was:

PINEWOOD — 121

TIMBERWOLVES — 124

Three points.

Again.

With three events remaining:

PINEWOOD — 134

TIMBERWOLVES — 137

Three points.

Again.

With two events remaining:

PINEWOOD — 141

TIMBERWOLVES — 143

Two points.

The natatorium had become deafening.

The final individual event was the 100-yard butterfly.

Pinewood needed a big finish.

Their swimmer, Elena, stepped onto the block.

She looked terrified.

Maya grabbed her hand.

"Hey."

Elena looked over.

"Don't think about the score."

"That's literally all I'm thinking about."

"Then think about something else."

"Like what?"

Maya shrugged.

"Penguins."

Elena stared.

"What?"

"Think about penguins."

"Why?"

"I don't know. They're adorable."

Elena laughed.

The official called the swimmers forward.

"Take your marks."

Elena crouched.

Maya whispered:

"Penguins."

BEEP!

Elena dove.

She flew.

Her butterfly was beautiful.

Fifty yards.

She was second.

Thirty-five.

Second.

Twenty-five.

She was gaining.

Fifteen.

She pulled alongside the Timberwolves swimmer.

Ten.

The crowd was standing.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two—

Elena touched.

The scoreboard flickered.

Then changed.

PINEWOOD — 147

TIMBERWOLVES — 145

The Pirates had taken the lead.

Two points.

One event remained.

The 400-yard freestyle relay.

The final race.

The championship qualifier.

The whole meet came down to four swimmers.

Maya was the anchor.

Jordan was first.

Theo second.

Elena third.

Maya fourth.

Coach Ramirez gathered them together.

"Listen."

They leaned in.

"This is what you trained for."

Theo was trembling.

Jordan put a hand on his shoulder.

"You're ready."

Theo nodded.

Coach Ramirez looked at all four.

"Don't race the Timberwolves."

Maya frowned.

"Then what do we race?"

"The clock."

The four swimmers climbed onto the blocks.

The natatorium was chaos.

People were standing.

Phones were raised.

Parents were shouting.

The scoreboard showed:

PINEWOOD — 147

TIMBERWOLVES — 145

One race.

Eight swimmers.

Four hundred yards.

A place in the finals.

The starter stepped forward.

"Swimmers, take your marks."

Silence.

Jordan crouched.

Three seconds.

Two.

One.

BEEP!

He launched.

Jordan and the Timberwolves' first swimmer were nearly even.

Twenty-five yards.

Thirty.

Thirty-five.

Fifty.

Jordan touched.

EXCHANGE.

Theo dove.

The Timberwolves swimmer was slightly ahead.

Theo chased.

Twenty-five.

Thirty.

Forty.

Fifty.

He closed the gap.

EXCHANGE.

Elena dove.

The Timberwolves had the lead.

A body length.

Elena attacked.

Twenty-five.

Thirty.

Forty.

She was closing.

The crowd was screaming.

Fifty.

EXCHANGE.

Maya dove.

The Timberwolves anchor was half a body length ahead.

Maya surfaced.

She could see him.

She could hear the roar.

And then she remembered what Coach Ramirez had said.

Don't race the Timberwolves.

Race the clock.

Twenty-five yards.

The difference was shrinking.

Thirty-five.

Maya's arms burned.

Fifty.

Still behind.

The timer above the pool flashed.

3:18.42

The Timberwolves anchor turned.

Maya pushed.

3:25.

Sixty yards.

3:26.

Fifteen yards remaining.

She was beside him.

The crowd became a single roar.

Ten yards.

Eight.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two—

One—

Maya reached.

The electronic timer stopped.

3:31.87

Silence.

For one impossible second, nobody knew.

Then the scoreboard changed.

PINEWOOD — 155

TIMBERWOLVES — 153

The Pirates had won.

Maya surfaced.

Jordan was yelling.

Theo was crying.

Elena was laughing.

Coach Ramirez had both fists in the air.

The Pinewood section exploded.

Maya grabbed the lane rope and tried to breathe.

She looked at the scoreboard.

PINEWOOD PIRATES — 155

TIMBERWOLVES — 153

Two points.

They had won by two points.

Two.

She laughed.

"Two points!"

Jordan climbed out.

"That's all we needed!"

The team huddled together.

Someone started counting.

"Ten!"

Everyone shouted.

"Nine!"

"Eight!"

"Seven!"

"Six!"

"Five!"

"Four!"

"Three!"

"Two!"

"ONE!"

They jumped into the pool together.

SPLASH!

Coach Ramirez stood at the edge, laughing.

The official approached him.

"Congratulations."

Coach Ramirez nodded.

"Thank you."

"That was one of the closest meets I've seen."

Coach Ramirez looked at his swimmers.

"I know."

Then he looked at the scoreboard one more time.

"That's what makes it fun."

Later that night, Maya lay in bed.

Her muscles ached.

Her hair still smelled faintly of chlorine despite two showers.

The medal sat on her desk.

She stared at it.

The alarm clock glowed beside her.

11:59 PM

She smiled.

A minute later, the display changed.

12:00

A new day.

A new countdown.

And somewhere across town, the Timberwolves were probably thinking about the same thing.

The semifinals were over.

The finals were coming.

Maya closed her eyes.

Tomorrow, they would start again.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

And this time, the Pirates would be ready.