Victor
Shock pulsed through my body. I never expected to hear this song again, and yet here it was, being played over low quality, static-filled speakers. My brothers turned to face me, questions evident in their eyes. I could offer no response, save to express my surprise.
My eyes returned to the girl swimming in front of me. I should've been preparing for my own swim, but something about her drew me in, leaving me helpless. Maybe it was that her coach was obviously forcing her to swim, yet she still found enjoyment from it, something that I struggled with in playing the piano. Or maybe it was that her smile was as delicate as crystal and as hard as granite at the same time—this girl would fight for what she believed in. My mind wandered to when I first saw her earlier, when we were discussing patterns. Even then, she drew me in with her sorrow. I couldn't look away, not until Kota made me. Her passion captivated me. I absent-mindedly scratched my neck. My necklace, reminding me to guard my heart, was forgotten in my swim bag.
My song, "Rambling Nightmares", continued playing overhead. When I composed it, something always felt missing, leaving the song hollow. Disgusted with myself, I vowed to never compose again. However, in this pool, the song seemed to breathe. The girl's solo filled the holes in the music and gave it life, something that I never managed to achieve. It was like she understood me, my story, my hopes and aspirations, yet we had never even met. This led me to a conclusion: she was broken, just like the rest of us. Broken, but still going on. An impulse filled me, unrelenting: I wanted to help this girl. I wanted to find out what has caused her sorrows, and what motivated her to push through them and create beauty.
The music slowly faded out, leaving the audience silent, afraid to move and break the spell the girl had woven. The stadium remained hushed until the announcer called the girl's name, and applause filled the stadium. Sang Sorenson—a unique name, perfect for the mysterious girl. Several of my brothers mouthed her name, awestruck over her unprecedented performance.
Kota was the first one to pull himself together, and his chiding brought our team in to focus. No matter what we just saw, we still had to perform. I took a few deep breaths, grateful that George and Jasmine refused to recognize that I did synchro, boycotting all meets. Their presence would only cause stress.
As we lined up to walk out, Mr. B gave us his typical pre-swim prep talk. Normally he was very calm and reassuring, maybe even going so far as to grace us with what he calls a smile, but today his eyes were distant and cold. He was clearly focusing on something else, and I worried that the Academy had shared unfortunate news. Even Dr. Green standing next to him looked upset.
Whatever it was, I knew better than to ask. He'd tell us when he was ready, and besides, the referee was motioning for us to walk out. Kota started counting, and as one, we moved on deck.
Mr. Blackbourne
Sean and I stood beside the pool watching the boy's swim. As usual, it was flawless. Endless training and complete trust in each other had given them an enormous advantage in these competitions, where most of the teams practiced at most ten hours a week, and were often riddled with fights over petty conflicts. The only caveat was that they swam a seven person team, and synchro revolved around eight. Still, no matter how much I tried to concentrate on their swim, my thoughts returned to the girl—Miss Sorenson. Her solo was truly remarkable, but that wasn't why she stuck in my mind.
I saw her interactions with her coach, who I suspected was her mother. I saw the potential for abuse, the frightening grip her coach used on her arm. Deep down, I knew I must stop it. I could not live with myself if I witnessed Miss Sorenson's situation and did nothing to alleviate it.
The boys' reactions were another point of concern. They were overcome with her grace, her beauty, and her confidence. Already, I noticed jealous looks shared between them.
"That girl will be the end of us," I whispered to Sean. He nodded, his green eyes serious.
"All of the boys were captivated before they even knew her name! Present company included. Don't give me that look, Owen. I saw how distracted you were when you were talking with the boys. You were thinking about Sang! Not that I can fault you, though. She's an amazing swimmer."
I glared at Sean before resuming by musing. We would have to raise the issue of Miss Sorenson at the next family meeting. I saw her and her coach walking out of the building, and I frowned at her obvious distress. As the door slammed shuts behind them, a sense of urgency overcame me. Taking out my phone, I quickly sent out a group text:
Mr. Blackbourne: Emergency family meeting at Victor's house, 10 pm tonight.