A satisfied smirk spread across my face at seeing Grace Connaway written in neat, cursive writing.
I made it. I claimed my spot on the team.
My eyes travel down further to see who filled the sub position. Zach Bentley. I cock my head to the side. When we were in line to thank the judging panel after the swim try-outs, I heard the principal address the arrogant boy who first spoke to me, by the name Zach.
A little grin made its way onto my face as mentally cheered that the bleached pony tail girl didn't make it.
"You haven't said anything for about a minute," Harvey stated, glancing down at his watch. "You sure you're feeling okay?"
I turned and beamed at him. "I made it."
"I know. You knew you would."
"I'm on the Elite team." I breathed, my eyes wide.
"Yes Grace, I think we've established that."
A squeal left my lips and I jumped onto him. He staggered back, letting out an oomph sound. He chuckled in my ear as I gripped him tightly.
"And that's the reaction I was waiting for," he laughed, hugging me back.
I stepped back, unable to wipe the smile from my face. "This is awesome."
"Totally," he said with fake enthusiasm. I rolled my eyes. "You should call your mum."
My face fell instantly before I could control it. "She's probably busy."
"I'm sure she would appreciate the call," he assured me with a soft smile.
With a reluctant nod, I turn from him and withdraw my phone. I dialed my mother's number and pressed the phone to my ear, although there were strict 'no mobile phones during school hours' signs plastered on every wall of the school.
Just as I was about to hang up, she answered. "What?" she snapped, sounding irritated. "What's wrong? Are you hurt? Why are you ringing me when I'm at work?"
"Er-" I stammered, sounding like an idiot. I cleared my throat and straightened my spine as I felt the hairs bristle on my arms. "I made the team."
"What?" she asked distractedly.
It was obvious she had her phone pressed between her shoulder and her ear while she was occupied doing something else. She did this at home, too, when she was actually there.
"The swim try-outs were yesterday," I explained, my voice lacking the strength it had a few moments ago. "I made it."
"Oh, that's great," she said, her voice sounding slightly static. "No! Don't touch him, that's my patient." she barked out, her tone striking an authoritative tone. "Look, Grace, I have to go. That's great news, I knew you could do it. No! He's being prepped for surgery! Okay honey, I love you, bye!"
I blinked a few times as my arm fell limply to my side. At least she said that she loved me. That is something I haven't heard for a while.
"So?" Harvey nudged, materialising by my side. "How'd it go?"
"Great," I muttered, shoving my phone back in my pocket, the previous excitement from making the team dying pretty quickly. "Let's get to History before we're late."
He asked no further questions as he fell in step with me.
"You made the team," he reminded me as I had been silent ever since. My silence worried Harvey, considering I apparently 'don't ever shut up'. "That's amazing. I'm taking you out to celebrate, considering you bailed last night."
"I didn't bail," I said with an eye roll. "I was exhausted."
"Whatever, bailer," he mocked, a small grin on his face.
"Says you, I have to drag you out of your house because of your strict parents," I said with quotation marks.
"You can't use quotation marks in this situation," he pointed out. "It's suggesting I'm lying and it's true - you've met my mother. You know what she's like. It's twenty questions about anything I do!"
"Don't remind me," I said darkly, having a flash back to the horrible dinner I endured with his parents.
I stride into class and the first person I see is Hayden, leaning back in his chair, doing something on his phone. Mia met my eyes, as she sat next to Mike, a murderous look on her face.
I guess I'm not the only one who saw the try-out poster results.
Giving her a sweet smile in return to her scowl, I perch myself next to Harvey.
"They hate you," he murmured.
"Yep."
"They're out to get you."
"Yep," I replied.
"You don't care?" he questioned.
"Not one, little bit," I said confidently, casting a look toward Mia, who was still glowering at me, whispering something to Mike, not-so-subtly.
***
"Now who is the one that's early?" I asked, as I glanced down to my watch.
Harvey said he would pick me up at 5:30. It is 5:15.
He shrugged. "I'm always early. It's an attractive trait," he winked.
"Who says?"
"Everyone."
"To you personally?" I teased.
"Shut up."
I laughed as I did the buckle of my sandal up.
"You'll need to bring socks," he announced as I grabbed my bag.
"Socks? Why?"
"Just bring some, okay?"
"Fine, Mr Mysterious," I muttered, jogging upstairs to grab a pair of socks.
After squishing them into bag, resulting in my bag barely closing, I skipped down the stairs and abruptly stopped, half-running into Harvey in the process.
"Smooth," he commented, shaking his head at me.
"Like you can talk," I retorted.
“Ready?"
"Yes sir."
As we drove to the Chinese restaurant, silence never lapsed between us. That's what I love about Harvey, him and I could have endless conversations about nothing. There is never any awkward pauses or moments.
"Let's get take away and go sit near the beach," I suggested, pushing on the door, even though it said pull.
"Wow, you're off to a good start tonight," he laughed, reaching around me and pulling the door easily.
The girl at the countered turned quickly, but it was obvious she was laughing at me. I made a face at her as she was turned, causing Harvey to crack up.
After ordering, we made our way down to the beach, the warm, delicious take-away food heating up my lap.
"Here, hold this," he said to me, tossing me his keys.
He went around to the back of his car and popped the boot, withdrawing a picnic blanket.
"Aw," I cooed. "Are we cute, or what?"
A blush warmed his cheeks as he slammed the boot shut, the sound echoing in the car park. We walk a short trek down a sandy, partly rocky track, until we reach a grass glade. It isn't very big, but there is easily enough space for the two of us to sprawl out comfortably.
After throwing Harvey's keys back to him, I shrug on my jacket, as he settled the picnic rug neatly over the grass. I collapse heavily with a huff.
As Harvey begins loading up our plates, I take a moment to look out at the water. The sun is sinking into the horizon, leaving beautiful splashes of vibrant pink and orange behind it. It is truly breath taking.
After taking a few snaps, I chucked my phone down and dug into my Chinese. The air started to cool, making me thankful I brought my jacket.
"Thanks for this," I said to Harvey as we both had actually managed to shut up for five seconds and appreciate the view. "This is really sweet."
"I-It's what friends do," he spluttered. "It's not a date."
"Harvey," I said, rolling my eyes. "Shut up and take the compliment without making it weird."
"Sorry."
"And stop apologising for being weird."
"Sorry."
"My God," I muttered, shaking my head. "You're hopeless."
"Sor-" The word died from his lips after I flashed him a warning look.
We both stared at each other, before we burst out laughing.
I had hardly finished my last mouthful, before Harvey began packing up.
"What's the rush?" I asked, my voice slightly whiny. "I want to look at the pretty sky."
"We have more plans," he urged, tugging at the rug, as if that would make me get off it.
"I like looking at the sky."
"Great, you can do that whenever you want. Except now."
"Fine," I muttered, getting to my feet. "Grumpy bum."
"They shut at eight," he said.
"Who does?"
He didn't answer me as we began driving. I had grown significantly more comfortable being in the car with Harvey. He is a cautious driver and it eased my nerves considerably. I still felt slightly nauseous and gripped the door, but I wasn't experiencing overwhelming waves of anxiety as much. I hadn't felt this comfortable in a car for a long time.
He pulled into a car park and I peered out the window.
"Oh!" I exclaimed, pressing my face to the glass, like I used to when I was a child. "We're going tenpin bowling?"
"Yep!"
"I haven't done that for years!"
"Well, don't be too disheartened," he said as we piled out of the car. He tensed his biceps before patting them lovingly. "I come here quite regularly."
"Are you saying you're going to beat me?" I asked, accepting the challenge immediately.
He emphasised his strokes on his bicep. "Let my muscles, do the talking."
"What muscles?" I joked. "I have bigger muscles than you."
"That's probably true," he admitted, a hint of sadness in his voice.
After paying and getting our shoes, we stroll unhurriedly towards lane 4. I smirked. This is my swimming lane. I feel that is a stroke of luck.
We chose our bowling balls, mine being a dark, electric blue, while Harvey chose a bright, orange ball that looked like one an eight-year-old would use.
As he was setting up our names, I picked up his ball. It was considerably lighter than mine and I let out an unladylike snort.
"Wow, way to show your masculinity," I bantered.
"Don't judge yet!" he exclaimed. "You haven't seen what I can do."
I sat on the tattered, plastic, green chair and waited for Harvey to go. He walked purposefully to the line, before doing a pathetic looking throw, almost tripping himself over in the process. He knocked down two pins.
"And you say you come here often?" I asked lightly, leaning back on my arm.
"Shut up," he said, his cheeks crimson. "I-I'm just warming up."
His next throw, his ball moved into the gutter.
"Alright," I said, getting to my feet. I grabbed my ball, a smirk on my face. "Watch and learn."
Striding towards the line, I roll it aggressively down the lane. It hit right in the center, knocking every pin down. I let out a cheer and performed a small dance, as the word strike lit up the screen.
"What!" he gasped, his mouth hanging open. "How are you good at everything?"
"Naturally talented, what can I say?"
"This is so unfair," he huffed, grabbing his kid-like ball.
I let out a loud laugh.
By the end of game, I hit the 100s, where Harvey managed to scrape into the 60s. I should have gone easy, to not bruise his ego, but my competitive nature came out, as per usual.
"Well, that's the last time I'm taking you bowling," he complained.
"I'm sorry," I said, although there was no hint of sympathy in my voice.
"You are not."
"You're right," I confessed with a laugh. "I destroyed you."
"I destroyed you," he mimicked in a high-pitch, nasally voice.
"That sounds nothing like me."
"Sure it doesn't."
"I didn't peg you as a sore loser, Harv." I sighed dramatically.
"Oh please, like you can talk, Miss I-Wanted-To-Steal-Mia's-Timesheets."
If only he knew, I actually did get them. I just technically didn't steal them.
"That's different."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night."
I climb into his car and am satisfied with the somewhat calm feeling I had. This is a great - being able to hop in a car and not risk having a panic attack.
His car pulled to a smooth stop at the front of my house.
"Thanks for the celebration evening," I said, clutching my bag. "Want to come in for a bit?"
"Nah," he replied. "Have to get home, it's almost 8:30."
"Oh, past your bed time?"
"Strict parents!" he justified.
"Right, right, whatever," I laughed, sliding out of the car. "Thanks again. See you tomorrow!"
"See ya," he called as I slam the door shut.
I make my way to the porch when I freeze. A bouquet of charming pink and white lilies are parked at my front door. I bent to pick them up, their soft scent wafting towards my nose. Attached to it, was a small, pink card.
I pull it from the butterfly stick it is stuck to and open it.
Congratulations for making the team. I had no doubt that you would. I look forward to working with you more closely.
Sincerely,
AB.
AB...
Ashton Brennon. The Coach.
A small smile curved my lips as I press the card to my chest.
Looks like I might be the Coach's number one.