He had an accent! A cute accent, kind of British-sounding—maybe Australian or South African. “I think I’ll do a few more laps before I go.” Laps? Like around the track? That wasn’t going to help me. There was even more sunshine out there. “You’re a machine,” the first blond guy laughed. “My arms are way too sore after this morning.” Arms? Who ran around the track on their arms? “Yeah, but that’s ’cause you’re a wuss,” my guy said kindly. He cracked up as the first guy pushed him off the table. “One day I’m going to put ants in your swimsuit, and then you’ll finally lose a meet,” thesecond blond guy teased. Aha . They were on the swim team! Something poked at my memory. Tex had mentioned the swim team in his last blog post. Something about how he’d quit swimming—which meant these guys probably knew him. Now I had even more reason to meet Mr. Smiley. And I knew just how to do it.