I approach the metal doors of the Princeton Aquatics Center slowly. I know what's to come. Reluctantly, I reach up to turn the handle of the door and push it open. Quiet, I think. They might not- my thought is interupted by a loud squeak from the door. Shit. They'll definetly notice me now.
"Coach An!" Someone shouts. I wince as the entire team runs toward me at full speed. Within seconds, I am enveloped in at least six different hugs.
"Hi, guys," I manage, though they're squeezing me so tight that it's hard to say anything. They're so loud, it's not like they could hear me anyways.
Don't get me wrong, I love the team and have missed them immensly over the past three weeks, but I'm not a fan of loud, uncomfortable greetings.
"What are you doing?" I hear an angry voice coming from somewhere behind the crowd. "You should all be in the pool. Hurry up! Go! And since you seem to have enough time to obsess over her, you clearly also have enough time to do twenty extra laps. Butterfly, fifteen seconds rest in between."
"But coach, we were-"
"I don't want to hear it! Go! Or do you want more butterfly?"
The group groans, but heads over to the pool.
"And you." Ryan turns to me. "If you continue to distract the team, then you'll be gone real fast. Got it?" Wait, what? No.
"Who the hell do you think you are? I haven't done anything wrong. You have no reason to hate me, except that I was a better water polo player than you." I smirk.
"Ha! You, better than me? A stupid college girl who got drunk and got into a car accident is a better water polo player than me. Right." Bringing up my accident? That's low.
"For your information, I wasn't drunk. I was completely sober. In fact, the only reason my accident happened was because another team cut my brakes and I ran on an overpass." He didn't know anything about me. Clearly.
"Sure. You really think I believe that? You were drunk. Admit it."
"I wasn't drunk."
"You were."
"Shut up! You're a heartless bastard and you don't know what happened." His face grew enraged and I saw him coming toward me. I felt the cold of the water as I fell, head first, chair and all, into the pool.
I feel myself sinking as I frantically try to unstrap my feet from the chair. The pool is over ten feet deep and I'm nearing the bottom. I can't get the straps and I'm sinking faster and faster. I try to pull myself up with my arms, but I'm not strong enough to pull myself and the chair. My lungs burn from the lack of oxygen and I'm getting dizzy. Black spots appear in the corners of my eyes.
Just as I'm about to pass out, I feel many hands. On my arms, on my legs, and presumably on my chair, pushing me up toward the surface. I finally break the water, gasping for air and still not getting enough. The hands drag me toward the edge of the pool and push me up further. Mre hands, outside of the pool this time, pull me out. Soon I'm lying on my back, no longer strapped to the chair, on the wet pool deck.
I look up to see Jack above me. He's angry. Yelling. After a few seconds, I can hear his words.
"You bastard. You- I'll fucking kill you. I will."
"Jack," I croak. "Jack."
He looks down and kneels next to me. "An. Are you okay? Of course you're not okay. That cruel fucking-"
"Jack." I say. "Stop. It's okay. Don't be mad."
"Don't be- An! This dick just shoved you into a pool, knowing you'd drown and you're telling me not to be mad? I should be mad. You should be mad."
I should be mad. But I'm not. More just relieved. Ryan could've done something so much worse to me, knowing that I'm can't run or defend myself very well.
"I know. But please, Jack. Don't be mad. I'm okay, really." I sit up and turn to see Ryan standing a few feet away, watching. "I think you need to leave," I say to him.
"Why the fuck should I do that? This is my practice and my team." I really can't believe that he has the nerve to say that.
"Get. Out. Now." I say slowly. He glares at me, then turns around, grabbing his bag and clipboard and stalking out the door.
