Loving Charley by Casey Peeler

to the trashcan to lose all the
contents within my stomach. That sick bastard is still trying to
scare me. The problem is, I’m not going to let him.
    Instead of getting sick, I
pull all the fear, anxiety, heartache, and nervousness to my core
and walk to stretch with my head held high. What I’m not prepared
for is Joe to turn around and yell at those people. I see Cash
stand, and all I can think of is him getting in trouble. There is
little time to think about what is going on, especially when I see
my dad stand and turn as well. He takes a step up the bleachers,
and even though I can’t understand what he is saying, I know it has
to be epic, because after about thirty seconds, they sit. They
still hold their sign, but they are quiet, which is what I need to
continue to focus on the prize at the end of the race.
    As the announcer calls the
event, I realize that it is now or never. It’s time to make them
all stop talking for once and for all. I relax my body and listen
for the moment to enter the water. When that happens, it’s game
on.
    Pointing my toes as they
enter the water first, I come up and grab the start block. Once the
buzzer sounds, I tunnel my thoughts and body toward winning this
race, but not against anyone in this pool; I focus on beating
myself.
    With each lap, I dig
deeper for more strength to continue to pursue my goal, and by the
final lap, I know that if anyone is anywhere near my time it’s
nothing short of a miracle from the big man upstairs. As the tips
of my fingers tap the time pad, I pop my head out of the water and
look directly at the time board. Throwing my arm in the air, I yell
with excitement. 2:11:02! Holy freakin’
cow! I just beat my record, Southern
College’s record, and Southern States’ record. Pushing myself up
out of the lane and water, I’m greeted by my coach and teammates.
They embrace me, and we all squeal with excitement.
    Once our freak-out moment
is over, I look toward the stands to see my entire support system
on their feet celebrating. Then, I look to the #TeamDylan crowd, and they have
their sign hidden and are no longer saying a word. All I can think
to myself is mission accomplished as we make our way back to the
stands.
    My fan club stays where
they are this time, even though I know it is about to kill them.
They realize if they move, then their fabulous seats will be taken
since the meet isn’t over, and there are still events to win. We
can celebrate later.
    Grabbing a towel, I turn to
sit down and take my phone from my bag. Of course, there is a text
from Cash.
    Cash: You were
unbelievable! Those ppl shut up quick after turn one! Love
u!
    Me: :) Love u 2! I’m glad
they shut up, & I’m going 2 give them more reason 2 be quiet
soon!
    We spend the remainder of
our time cheering on our teammates and preparing for the relay. We
are seated beside Davidson again, and we all look at each other.
Nothing like a repeat of last night.
    When the individual medley
relay is called, we all take our places and blow them out of the
water again. This time it is almost too easy. As we glance up to
see the clock, I hear that bitch from the locker room making a
smart-ass comment. We all turn to look at her.
    “Are you still talkin’?”
Tori asks firmly.
    “I don’t know what you’re
talking about,” she says with an eye roll.
    That’s when Tori looks at
me and has that I’ll whoop her ass look.
    “Exactly, you don’t know
what you’re talking about. You know nothing about the situation.
Dylan is a piece of work, and if you think your comments bother me,
they don’t. In fact, I feel sorry for you, because not only are you
insecure, you can’t put your mouth where the pool is.” I walk past
her to the stands with my head held high. I take my bag, shower,
change, and watch the rest of the meet.
    Southern College places
first overall in girls. Coach is ecstatic and wants to celebrate,
but all I want to do is get back to Southern so I can celebrate
with the Kluft