In Your Dreams

Stage 2: REALITY, Chapter 2: Swim tryouts

Stage 2 – Reality
fast-paced burst of activity

Chapter 2

I race into the girls' change room with minutes to spare before swim tryouts start. Waking up at five thirty is not easy, but if I make the swim team, I'll have to get used to it.

And I have to make the swim team.

I shove my clothes into a locker and duck into the shower. As the mist from the hot water trails up from the tiled floor, the wisps of a dream tug at the back of my memory. I was here at the gym, talking to a friend—maybe my best friend Casey?—but they're in trouble, something is wrong—

My skin pinches and for a moment I think it's the fear I remember feeling in the dream, but it's just the hot water. I shut off the tap and sigh. I've never been able to remember my dreams; they're always swept away when morning comes, for a moment as clear as the streaks of bronze that light the sky outside my window, and then gone.

I rush out onto the deck, instantly bathed in a blanket of warmth that rolls off the pool and calms my nerves. Swimming. This is where I belong.

"Jessie!"

I spot Brian, a fellow first year student with spiked brown hair towering above a group of nervous swimmers. The voice comes from the petite blond who squeezes out of the crowd behind him.

"Hey, guys!" Why didn't I spot Rachel in the change room just now? Are there that many girls trying out? My stomach does a nervous flip flop. Save the moves for the water, I joke.

Rachel rushes over as fast as she can without slipping on the deck. "I can't believe how nervous I am!"

Brian follows her, one of his steps as big as two of hers. "I keep telling her that makes two of us," he insists, scanning the competition. He looks abnormally uncomfortable without his effortless grin.

I try to calm the butterflies pummeling the front of my stomach. "You guys are so not alone."

"Swimmers!"

A squat man with a balding head stands by the shallow end of the pool, accompanied by a woman with short hair and a grave expression. The sight of the coaches makes it suddenly difficult to breathe. Rachel, Brian and I hurry over to join the group forming at head of the pool.

The woman with the short hair folds her hands in front of her. "I'm Coach Jansen, this is Coach Diten. Welcome to the annual swim tryouts," she says, without a trace of anything welcome in her voice. "Only twenty of you will make the team."

Rachel and I look at each other and mouth twenty? There must be at least forty people here trying out.

"Of those twenty, eight will also be on the relay team," Coach Jansen continues, and I start desperately hoping that will be me. "More specifically, one male and one female who excel in front stroke, backstroke, breaststroke and butterfly. So focus on your swimming and don't waste time trying to suck up to us. We'll post the results here tomorrow. Any questions?" Before anyone can ask, she ploughs on.

"We will be competing against other universities for the rest of the year. In addition, one of you will receive the Jake Hawthorne Memorial Scholarship. This very prestigious award is based on a combination of academic and swimming achievements, and grants the recipient $5,000 to spend towards any university or college program in Ontario. Any questions?"

My mind ignites at the mention of a scholarship. Being able to help pay for school...it feels good to think of surprising Aunt Lindsey and Uncle Kraig like that.

Coach Diten clears his throat over the excited murmurs. "Ready? Front stroke on my signal." He whistles and we all struggle to form some semblance of a line-up.