Twist (20 page)

Mom and Charlotte both try to fix it. He swats both of them away. And everyone chuckles.

“I'll be there,” George says. “I hear your memory came back, Luke.”

I nod.

Charlotte says, “Floodgates?”

“Yes,” I answer. But I'm hurt that she wants me out of Bea's life; it doesn't make sense. Beatrice is the reason I swim and the reason I live.

We
move to the front door and say our good-byes. I hug Charlotte and whisper, “Do you really want me out of Bea's life?”

“No,” she says. “It'd just be easier for you. You're doing so well.”

“I love her.”

“You don't know her,” Charlotte says real low in my ear. Then she steps away from me and hugs Mom and Dad.

On the way home Mom says. “Grounded. Two weeks, Luke.”

“What?”

“Don't act like you can't remember,” Mom snaps.

“You're lucky nothing happened,” Dad says. “You might not have been able to swim.”

I'm not even going to mention Simon's sudden stop and my dizziness. We drive the rest of the way in silence. Me thinking about how I'm going to sneak out again to see Bea, but knowing full well they'll drop the punishment within a day or two—as they always do.

Chapter
38

When we get home from Beatrice's house, I go to my room and start my routine. I'm into the push-ups when Mom knocks on the door. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” I respond from the floor, in between grunts.

“You're supposed to be calm.” She comes in and sits on the bed.

I relax and lay flat on the rug. “Something wrong?” I ask.

She looks downcast and her lips are drawn real tight. “I want to talk to you,” she says.

“This isn't going to be good,” I say, pressing my cheek to the rug. “I can see it on your face.”

“Charlotte's right, you know.”

“About what?” I ask.

“Getting on with your life. You're only seventeen. You don't really know this girl, and you'll grow.” She stammers. “And . . . and change, even more than you have.”

I pop my head up to see if she's joking and my throat tightens when I realize she's not. “Mom, Bea's the reason I want to be alive.”

Her shoulders slump down, and I know she's about to choose her words carefully. I can almost see the thought patterns in her eyes. “You've got to work on your grades. And this swimming thing has taken on a life of its own. Why don't you give the Beatrice thing a rest?”

I stare at her because I cannot believe what I'm hearing.

“
You know, the obsession with this girl. . . . Can you . . . find another interest?” She asks.

“My heart knows what it wants,” I say, and bump my head against the floor.

“Careful with your brain.” Her hands reach out to me, as if I'm Humpty Dumpty and she needs to prevent the fall. “After all that relearning, and the physical therapy. No hits on the head. I mean it!” she barks.

I sit up. “I'm not going to break in two. I'm healthy.”

Mom gets this faraway look on her face. And something's going on inside her head because suddenly she focuses on me like a laser. “I'm going to tell you something that I hope I don't regret.”

“I'm listening,” I say. But I'm irritated, too, because I sense what's coming.

“Beatrice Malcolm got herself into a bit of trouble in Seattle, with drugs and boys. She wasn't waiting for you, or pining over you when she was gone.” Mom huffs. “She's not your soul mate. She's trouble.” She stares at me, as if she's waiting for my agreement.

“Why even tell me these things?” I say.

“No good can come of this relationship,” Mom says.

“Can't I learn that on my own?” I ask. She starts to say something more, but I stop her. “Don't say any more, Mom. Please.”

“Okay . . . but my mother did the same thing to me with my first love. It's the nature of the beast.”

“Which is the beast—moms or love?” I ask.

“Both,” she says, as she moves to the door.

I
jump up and grab my hand weights, counting out loud with each pump, turning my back to her. But I hear the creak on the floor outside my door and when she's completely gone, I fold. I put the weights down and darkness fills my insides.

I know guys aren't supposed to cry, and lately I've done more than my share. But I've got all these memories rolling around in my mind and everyone wants me to walk away from the love of my life. I strip down to my skivvies. Lie on top of my bedspread and cry myself to sleep.

I wake up to the smell of bacon. I'm shivering on top of the bed. I realize I've got to shake off this girl thinking and focus on my swim meet. I go to the bathroom and wash my face. Then I find Mom and Dad in the kitchen. My plate is waiting for me. I rip off the cover and dig in. I'm starved.

“How'd you sleep?” Dad says.

“Good.” Some eggs fly out of my mouth.

“Slow down, Lou,” Mom says. “Don't talk with your mouth full.”

“Sorry,” I say.

Mom and Dad are glancing at each other and then watching me. Dad clears his throat and says, “Forget about what your mom talked about last night. Let's just focus on the meet today, okay?”

“Geez, Dad. I was, until you brought it up.” I pour a glass of juice and guzzle. I feel like I can't get enough of anything. “After this meet I want to surf again.”

Mom flashes Dad a look. “Let me call the doctor first?” she says. “Just to be sure.”

“
I miss surfing. I'll start slow, on the big board,” I say.

“Sure, after Mom talks to the doctor,” Dad says. “About the swim meet today, a lot of people are going. Will's bringing some of his friends. Abby called this morning. We all love you and want the best for you.”

“Don't get sappy on me, Dad. I've got to win today. It's my mission,” I say. “You going to drop me off early, or do you want to stay for my warm-up?”

“We're there for the duration. Coach Hammond has a reserved area for your people.”

“Charlotte and George, too?”

“Yes,” Mom says.

I don't ask about Beatrice.

We finish our breakfast in silence. My thoughts drift to how I was before the beating. All this time I thought Lou had caught up and was speaking and thinking as fast as Luke did. I know I'm one and the same person. But I'm not the same. My mind is slower. The grades that used to be straight A's are dipping.

On the good side, I'm more in tune with people. I can sense things better, because I pay attention. But it's almost like I have to really focus now, because if I don't—I'm going to miss something. I thought I was still ‘playing' catch up every time Simon helped me with my homework or just let me copy his. As I'm realizing it, the question flies out of my mouth: “Do I have brain damage?”

“You had a head injury, Luke. In some respects, you're still recovering,” Dad says, and then he frowns. “Everything will level out again. Just takes time.”

Mom clears the table and leaves Dad and me alone.

“
Dad, Let's face it. I'm not going to college early. I wanted that for so long. But now, I can't. And there's a reason.”

“Yeah, because you almost died. Let's get through the meet and then we'll talk. You'll get your scholarship and go to college at the same time as your friends.”

“I'm good as gold for winning this meet,” I say. “But we can talk later.”

“Yep.”

Mom stands in the doorway. “Let's get ready to go.”

It takes me about a half hour to ‘primp,' Dad's word. I shower and clean up, and when I walk into the living room with my duffel bag, Dad's laughing at me. “I don't understand why you get all dolled up so you can dive in the pool,” he says.

“It's a ritual of mine,” I say. “Besides, my scouts and the media will be there.” I puff out my chest. “And I can't disappoint my fans.”

Dad claps me on the back. “Move out of the way, big head coming through.”

“Step aside Mom, Lucas Louie the Drake's ego has arrived!” I say. We all burst out laughing, and that's a welcome relief.

Dad drives Mom's car and she fusses at him the entire way. “I don't know why I want my love so bad, if she's going to behave like you, Mom,” I say. “True love is brutal.”

“Stop it, Luke. No backseat drivers.” She taps Dad on the shoulder and says, “Watch that turn, Kyle.”

Dad laughs. “You're driving home, Samantha.”

We
finally get to the school and I go to the locker room. The guys straggle in behind me. I'm early, but I get ready to take my warm-up laps because I like to go first. The coach stops me on the way to the pool.

“Big day, Drake,” he says. “Glad you've come so far. Let's not look back.”

“Ain't that the truth,” I say, and I head toward the pool. The water feels so good. I save my jet engines for the race, but my arms stretching full length and my body gliding through the pool makes me relax. I must be taking more laps than normal, because soon the pool is filling up with swimmers and the stands with spectators.

I pull myself out of the pool. Mom and Dad wave from the bleachers. Simon, Tate, and Murphy are sitting right behind them. And there's Isabella, talking to Dad and Abby.

I'm watching them, when I hear, “Hey.”

“Will! I haven't seen you in forever.” He's right in front of me, I almost ran into him.

“Looking really good, my man,” he says, and shakes my hand with a firm grasp.

“You know what they say . . . Win big or go home.” I laugh.

“We need to work out again,” he says. “You're still my favorite, but don't tell anyone.”

I head toward the locker room. Every inch of my being is zapping with energy. The follicles on my head buzz, my heart is bouncing, and my toes want to dance. I've got people showing up just to watch me. I'm a bag of jittering lima beans.

Coach Hammond waits until everyone is in the locker room, then he gathers the team together.

“
You're my lucky seven,” he says. “We've been down this road before. It's all about each man's personal best. Let's focus on qualifying for state and all the blessings that come with a winning season!” He bows his head. “Luke, lead us in a prayer.”

“God, listen up! We thank you for letting us swim so fast, and know that you will help us surpass . . . our very best times this year, because state championship is almost here. Amen, go win!” I shout.

The guys roar and high-five one another. Coach Hammond yells, “Move 'em out! Those Hellcats don't stand a chance!”

Chapter
39

The stands are popping at the seams. The crowd booms when they see our team, and the paparazzi blizzard is on. Cameras flash, a few reporters are yelling at me. And then the chanting begins. “Lou, Lou, Lou, Lou!”

I wave and they get louder!

“Superstar Drake, get your head out of the clouds! Stretch and find out your lanes and race schedule. Focus.” Coach Hammond puts his hands on my shoulders and turns me away from the stands. “You won't have fans much longer if we don't win this—move it.”

I stretch and move around. It's everything I can do to not look up at my family and friends. I sit through a few races and then our team is suddenly behind. Now I'm more focused.

In the third qualifying race for the 100-yard freestyle, my time is second—I'm saving my jet packs. And later I make it to the finals of the 200-yard freestyle and the team relay. My strength is freestyle.

“Drake!” I'm sitting with the team, watching the girls compete. The coach bends down. “The guy we talked about last week qualified for both of your races. Listen, you've got more power, but you need to catch the lead on him. If he gets out in front, you'll never find him. Swim like you mean it, boy!” He smacks me on the back.

Coach
moves to one of the other guys. I look up and see that everyone who has said they'd show up is sitting near Mom and Dad, except for George and Charlotte. I suppose that's not shocking. But for some reason I thought Beatrice would surprise me.

Maybe Mom's right. She takes an awful lot of my energy and I've only really been around her for a few hours. I feel a smack on the back of my head.

“No stinking thinking, Drake,” Coach Hammond yells.

He's right—I sit up tall. And it's another reason that Mom might be right, too.

“You hear me?” The coach puts his face in mine. “You're up!”

We're very close in points to the Hellcats—the Pacific Coast High snobs, as the guys on my team call them. I shake my arms loose and stretch my legs. The crowd starts to pound on the bleachers. I dip my goggles in the water and put my cap on.

I step up to the block and the second that guns sounds—I'm off. I'm moving with more speed than I can recall. I have no idea where that fast guy is—the only other kid that can possibly win, according to Coach.

I just move and hit my turn like a dolphin. I grab some air and hear a few “Lous”. I'm flawless. But I don't know where the other guy is because he's not near my lane. So I push myself harder and harder. Coaches words are in my head—don't let him get out in front of you. I shift my arms into overdrive. Each lap feels faster than the last one. I near the end of the race and hold my breath for the last few yards. I leap to the edge of the pool with the longest stretch my arm will make. My hand slams down on the deck and I lift my head up. Coach Hammond is screaming, “Yes!”

I see Dad and Mom jumping up and down. The kid who was supposed to be my nemesis is more than a few seconds behind me.

“
You broke the record!” Coach is in my face. “Wow, that was phenomenal.” He yanks me out of the pool. “How'd you do that, kid? Unbelievable.”