Page 33 of Depths of Desire
“I’ll make you something when you’re here.”
“Lies,” she said. “You’re gonna toss me a protein bar and call it a delicacy.”
I laughed under my breath and flipped the chicken. “Maybe.”
We talked like that for a bit, soft stuff, school updates, and a teacher she hated. Then her voice changed, just slightly.
“So…how’s everything over there?”
“Fine.”
“Swimming?”
“Fine,” I said again.
She squinted. “You always say that like you’re talking about a hostage negotiation.”
I shrugged. “It’s been intense. Prepping for nationals.”
There was a pause. She chewed her lip. “Have you seen Lennox?”
I froze, just for a second. My knife clinked too hard on the cutting board as I sliced through a bell pepper. “No.”
“Oh.” Her tone was careful now. “I just thought maybe… never mind.”
I didn’t say anything.
She was quiet for a second, then pivoted. “We got our midterm reports back. My counselor said if I keep this up, I’ve basically got a golden ticket to Westmont with a full scholarship.”
“That’s amazing,” I said. And I meant it. She deserved this place. She’d worked for it harder than anyone I knew. “You’ll like it here.”
“Only if you’re still around next year,” she said, pretending to joke.
I didn’t take the bait.
We moved on briefly, talking about class schedules and spring break ideas. But I saw it coming when her mouth pulled into that thoughtful line she wore when she was trying to be gentle.
“Can I ask something?”
I gave her a look.
“Not about Lennox.”
I sighed. “Go on.”
“Why does everyone think it’s about the Olympics?”
I blinked. “Because it was.”
“No,” she said. “The silver shook you, yeah. But it was Greensboro.”
My pulse jumped.
“The Summer Nationals. You bombed there, and you haven’t been the same since.”
She said it like a fact. Like truth she knew too well. I hated that she was right. “I didn’t bomb,” I muttered. “I just didn’t place.”
“Oliver…”
