~ CHRISTOPHER ~
Wednesday the 28th of June, 1989
Loud cheers echoed around the swimming pool as the Form Six boys powered towards the finish line in a tightly fought race. The names for first, second, and third came over the loudspeaker, causing the winner to pump his fist in the air and whoop in victory. All the boys pulled themselves out of the pool, the Form Seven girls taking their places on the starting platform.
My gaze locked hungrily onto Catherine, the girl looking so goddamned fine in her blue swimsuit, all white hair and light olive skin. Unlike the other girls, she wasn’t wearing goggles or a swimming cap, her hair plaited instead. But she was wearing her rosary, which was hidden under a piece of duck-tape that was wrapped around her wrist.
She stretched, then leaned down to grip onto the platform, her muscles tightening in anticipation for the starting horn. As it ripped through the air, she dived into the water, resurfacing a little way down the pool. I stood up, watching as she started to power through the water. Gasps of admiration went up around the natatorium, causing other students to stand up so they could get a better view of her incredible freestyle. Flipping at the end of the pool, she glided past the other competitors, finishing in an incredible time, the second-placed girl not even having crossed the three-quarter mark.
Along with the other students, I whooped at her amazing victory. Then everyone went wild when the principal announced over the loudspeaker that she’d broken not only the school record, but the regional one.
She waited for all the other girls to finish before climbing out of the pool. Grabbing her towel, she wiped her face and hair, then wrapped it around her body and headed for me and Nicky. She sat down next to her best friend, who was grinning from ear to ear at her.
“That was amazing!” Nicky shrilled, almost piercing my eardrums.
“Not really, I could’ve gone a lot faster,” Catherine replied, her eyes flicking to me.
I smiled back, believing her. She’d probably gone slower so she didn’t bring unwanted attention to herself.
“Yeah, right!” Nicky said. “Pull the other one.”
Catherine laughed. “I’m being serious. When I touched the first end, I noticed how far back everyone was, so I slowed down to give them a chance. Not my fault they’re slow arses.”
Laughing, Nicky smacked her arm, clearly taking what she’d said as a joke, but I knew it wasn’t. Marises were known to power through water—and obviously Stellas too. I had to keep reminding myself that Catherine wasn’t a Maris, especially with the way she was with water.
Mr. Harley, the swim coach, appeared in front of Catherine. “Catherine. Why haven’t you joined our swimming team?”
“Ah...” she said, throwing a worried glance at me, like I could get him off her back. But all I did was grin at her, thinking she’d landed herself in it. Mr. Harley was probably already imagining winning all the school meets with her, the trophies piling up in his mind.
“There’s an Auckland swimming meet coming up next month,” he said. “I want you to participate in the freestyle. I’d also like to see you do other styles. We train...” he droned on and on about where they trained, at what times, which was really early in the morning, and how she could be a real contender in the swimming world.
“Um,” she said, cutting off his spiel, “I only swim for fun.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Fun? You smashed the regional record! You could have a spectacular career in swimming. You haven’t even trained and you’re good enough for the Commonwealth Games and possibly the Olympics. I’ll be speaking to your mother, Catherine, because you will be in the school team.”
Catherine’s shoulders slumped. “No to the training, I’m not getting up at that time, but if you want me to show up to the meets, I’ll do it.”
“If you trained you could go so far.”
“Look, I love swimming and all, just not the training side of things.”
“But you could go so far.”
“You already said that, Mr. Harley.”
“It’s true—”
“As I said, I’ll turn up to the meets, nothing more. And seriously, you just told me I broke the regional record and I wasn’t even trying.”
His eyes went wide. “What?”
She shrugged. “I’ll beat whoever you put up against me, take it or leave it.”
“I’ll most certainly take it. I’ll send your mother all the information about the meets this year. If you refuse training, at least turn up to all of those, not one less. Do it for your school.”
She sighed. “Sure.”
His face lit up. “Well, I’ll talk to you later.” He walked off, grinning like a loon, probably ecstatic that the school was finally producing some real swimming talent for him to live vicariously off. I could almost see a skip in his walk.
Catherine groaned and covered her face. “What have I done?”
I didn’t reply, knowing there was a real chance she wouldn’t make any of those meets because of my grandfather.