Page 50 of The Sea Witch's Son

“The fastest seed times go from the middle lanes outward. These are the slow heats, so all the rookies who don’t have times will be here.” Calista points at the swimmers lounging in sweatsuits nearby, "The fastest times are always in the final heat. Those races are much more exciting.”

The buzzer sounds and the men fling themselves into the water. Powerful arms break through the surface as they go charging for the other side. Two of the swimmers have already pulled ahead by the time they do a flip turn.

Unexpected excitement hits my veins as the spectators start cheering on the final length of the race. Gus and his gym bros are hollering at the back, and a few of the girls in front of us are screaming encouragement as the two rookies go racing towards the wall.

I find myself clapping along with the crowd, swept up in the energy vibrating through the bleachers.

The guy in the left lane manages to out touch the other swimmer. I cheer loudly, watching the victor take off his cap and goggles.

“Oh my God. That’s Finley!”

Tahira looks at me in amusement, “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“He’s a... never mind.”

I quickly sit back down when I see the next line of swimmers step up to the blocks. We watch heat after heat go by, the adrenalin from the first race quickly fading into a lull of never-ending races.

“100m freestyle is a popular event.” Tahira muses, “Almost everyone competes in it.”

“The most boring event, in my opinion.”

I glance at Calista, “There’s more than one event?”

“Plenty more. I’ve always preferred watching butterfly or breastroke.”

Tahira snickers, “Nothing like a man who knows how to pull out.”

The final heat gets called up and there’s a noticeable shift in the air. The excitement from the first race is back, except this time there’s an electric anticipation rippling among the crowd.

“Show these bitches how it’s done, Seaborn!”

The shout comes from the other side of the bleachers and laughter ripples along the crowd. I snap my eyes to the front, watching the guys step up to the blocks.

I spot him immediately. The white hair is covered by a black swim cap and the violet eyes are blocked by the tint of his goggles, but it’s impossible not to feel the weight of his presence.

Not to mention, he’s about three inches taller than all the guys out there.

“Does he not eat carbs?” I grumble under my breath and Tahira barks out a laugh.

“He’s a freak of nature. Only eats to sustain himself, works out until his physique is up to standard, and swims like his life depends on it.” She shrugs, “Although I guess it kind of does.”

“What do you mean?”

I can’t tear my eyes away from the guy standing in the middle lane. All the swimmers are in peak shape, but Marlin is something else. His torso looks like someone took a knife and started chipping away pieces of skin until every vein and muscle was on display.

“Haven’t you heard the rumours?” Tahira glances at me, “The Sea Witch used to hold his head under water until he overcame his fear of drowning.”

Goosebumps break out as I stare at her, waiting for the punchline.

“You can’t be serious.”

She shrugs, “That’s my favourite theory.”

The girl in front of us turns around, “I heard it was his father. He threw him overboard and he almost died swimming to shore.”

“No way.” Another person pipes up, “Marlin was a water birth, but the doctor fucked up, so now he only has one lung.”

More and more theories start to circulate, each one circling back to the question of Marlin’s one and only fear.

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