Waking up at 4:30 is one hell of a task. Not to mention you’re getting up to swim your ass off. It’s State weekend, the entirety of the state team staying at a nearby hotel after driving for 5 hours just to get here. Your hotel roomies are Maggie and Raleigh, who also begrudgingly get up to change into the tech suits. It’s about an hour later that you’re downstairs in the lobby, 25 Highschool kids tiredly leaning against the walls with blankets wrapped around their shoulders while they wait for the bus to the pool.

6:00 when you finally make it to the pool. It’s an Olympic sized length, 50 yards instead of the 25 yards you’re used to practicing in. Warmups are somewhat easy, enough to get your heart racing but not exhaust you for your upcoming events. As the girls hop out of the pool, the boys slide in for their warmup. Enough time for you to talk

You’re with Raleigh and Maggie when you ask of them to count for you. You’re competing in the 500 free, one of the longer races, and it’s helpful for someone to count your laps. Raleigh and Maggie both agree to count, before you head off towards your block.

The heats and lanes are all lined up and after the national anthems are done, the swimmers in front of you get ready to take off. It’s a few minutes after that it’s finally your turn, but when you hand your timer your paper and step onto the block you don’t see Maggie nor Raleigh.

Where are they?

A split second of panick hits you as you realize you’ll have to count the laps in your head, twenty times. You can count to twenty, you reassure yourself. The buzzer goes off and you dive into the water.

1

2

3

4 laps down, when the board drops down in the water. Someone’s counting for you now, the numbers appearing in the water before you push off the wall.

You end up getting first in your event, with the time of 6:32.43. You’re walking towards Maggie and Raleigh when you’re stopped. A guy about your age hands you your counting board. “You did good” he says. He counted for you, you realize.