Treading Water, page 1
Treading Water
B.Sobjakken
Copyright © [2023] by [Brooke Sobjakken]
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email author@bsobjakken.com
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyediting and proofreading by Justine Luke – justinejustreads@gmail.com
Contents
Playlist
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Other Works
Playlist
CHRONICALLY CAUTIOUS-Braden Bales
I Did Something Bad-Taylor Swift
Genius-Sia,Diplo,Labrinth,LSD
High-Young Rising Sons
Ava-Famy
Personal Jesus (2006 Remaster)-Depeche Mode
Think I’m crazy-Two Feet
To all the girlies who had an inappropriate crush on their coaches.
Let me fulfill your fantasy, baby. .
Chapter One
Sage
I smack the hand tapping my cheek away, groaning as I pull the blanket over my head and roll towards the wall.
“Sage?” Her little voice has me blinking awake, and I turn back to her.
My sister smiles as I squint, mentally cursing the light flooding through the window.
“What, Val?”
She holds up my phone. “This keeps going off.”
The time reads after six a.m. on the screen, my alarm still faintly ringing. I shoot up from the bed, adrenaline coursing through me as I snatch it from her hand. “Fuck!”
“That’s a bad word.”
I nod, grabbing my swim suit and stuffing it in my bag while trying to put on my shoes at the same time. “Yeah, so don’t repeat it. Okay, Squirt?”
Flinging the strap over my shoulder, I pocket my keys, but stop at the door. I glance back at Val sitting on her bed, her small feet swinging. “You good? Need me to cook breakfast?”
She shakes her head, her tangled blonde hair barely moving as she gives me a crooked grin with a missing tooth. “Nope. I have Pop-Tarts.”
I’m still reluctant to leave her. “Mom here?”
Valerie shrugs. “I think so. Her door is closed.”
My tongue pokes at the inside of my cheek, hesitating. I’m already cutting it close to the start of practice. Would it really matter if I missed it entirely? The first day of practice is usually more of a chill day to get to know one another.
My sister’s eyes narrow, about to argue how much of a big girl she is now that she’s in the first grade. I hold up my hand, knowing I’ve lost the battle before it could begin.
“Fine. Text me if Mom doesn’t wake up before the bus comes, okay?” I say with a sigh.
“I promise, Sage.” Her little hand holds up her pinky finger and I mirror the action with a wink before hurrying out the door. I gather the unbrushed brown hair swaying over my shoulder as much as I can into a ponytail before I climb into my car and head to school.
I’m incredibly fortunate that school is less than a twenty-minute drive. I timed it before we moved here this summer. Val’s bus stop for school is also less than a five-minute walk from our apartment. The familiar twist of guilt boils in my stomach when I think about how much higher the rent is from the old place, but my mom insisted we were moving because she got a better job and not because it’s close to the college I received an athletic scholarship from. I had planned to stay in the dorms, but after she spent an entire summer paying for Val’s babysitters so I could attend a skills camp, I knew we couldn’t afford it. It was fairly obvious my mom was hurting for money and it didn’t cost a dime to watch my little sister in the afternoons.
Pulling into the parking lot, I jog to the locker room and quickly change into my swimsuit. I throw my sweatshirt and shorts over it in case Coach Amber is having us do dryland instead. I met her at the orientation and she seemed like a nice enough person.
As I walk around the building, I smile when I hear the splashing of the water and the stench of chlorine. It’s like coming home. The screech of the gate to the pool deck has me grimacing as I open it, announcing my entrance.
My attention is immediately drawn to the man standing next to Coach Amber; my gaze clashes with green, and my breath catches. It’s soul-piercing, life-altering, the way my body ripples with shivers as the familiarity of those eyes tears through me. I have posters with those eyes plastered on the walls of my bedroom. I’ve watched hours of videos of that gorgeous peridot color giving interviews. He breaks our connected stare, and I hurry to where Emily is standing, huddled with the other girls. Her blonde hair is thrown up into a messy ponytail, and her blue eyes are bright with astonishment.
My fingers latch onto hers. “Is that–”
“Yes,” she whispers, squeezing my hands. “I tried calling you.”
Fallon Harris is one of the biggest names in US Water Polo, a four-time Olympian on the men’s team before he had surgery on his shoulder that made him retire from competing. He’s had the dream career of anyone who loves their sport, joining the national team at sixteen. He was also the epitome of my biggest crush, the unreachable athlete who was like a celebrity in our small sports world. And he is standing a few feet in front of me on our small college pool deck.
“As I was saying,” Coach Amber spares me a glance with a raised eyebrow. “We’re going to be running split practices. Majority of the girls are with me and the rest with Coach Harris. He’s reviewed last season’s stats and your high school careers if you’re a freshman. He can rotate those girls at any given time as we hone the skills of each individual.”
Emily nudges me, her hand nearly crushing mine as she bounces on the heels of her feet. I know what she’s saying. I’m going to be spending a lot of time with him. I straighten my shoulders, trying to keep my gaze from straying to him.
He’s just my coach.
He’s just my coach.
He’s just my coach.
No matter how many times I try to chant that in my head, every time Fallon Harris speaks, the crush flares up. I stand there in awe as he goes into detail about the format of practices. How if we’re not in the pool, then we will be in the gym. Dryland exercising is just as essential as everything we do in the water. This isn’t any new information to me, but the absolute confidence in his tone makes me absorb it like gospel. When I chose this college to attend, I didn’t have any expectations of the coach other than to train us for championships without the stress of tuition. With Fallon Harris here, my dreams of the national team don’t seem out of reach.
Chapter Two
Sage
“Peters. Can you hold up for a minute?” The deep timbre of his voice caresses over my skin as it has all practice.
I nod, slowly walking towards him with my hand clasping my waist as I try to catch my breath. I’ve been at a skills camp most of the summer, but he drove us hard today. The camp hadn’t consisted of much working out, so I felt every mile he had us running. I can feel the weight of his eyes as he watches me, so I avoid looking at his impassive face.
Even after hours of being in his presence, my mind is a jumbled mess as I try to form the words of admiration I want to tell him. He is one of the major reasons I pushed myself and hoped to be invited to the Olympic team.
Fallon folds his arms across his chest and I finally look up, standing straighter. My gulps of air have reduced to small gasps and my arm hangs limp at my side. His eyes are a sea foam green, the reflections of the sun making them shine like crystals. His dark hair is a little longer, and some stubble peppers his sharp jaw, different from what he usually looks like. I almost grimace at that thought, feeling like a stalker for knowing that as he’s standing before me.
“Are you aware what time practice starts?” he asks, his stony stare unwavering as I flinch.
My heart shrivels, my stomach hollowing as dejection fills my chest. I blink, stammering as I fail to answer. “Umm–”
“I would assume you do since Coach Amber stated you were ready to be a part of this team after attending clinics all summer.” One curl brushes over the raised dark eyebrow as he tilts his head to the side.
How the man makes it sound like being invi ted to train with some of the same players that are on the current national team was an insult makes my blood heat. I clench my teeth, glaring at him. Any admiration I had for Fallon Harris is drying up like a hot summer’s day. “Are you really going to harp on me for being a few minutes late? You haven’t even asked why.”
There’s a flash of something dark in his eyes before it returns to the expressionless gaze. “I don’t care why. Starting is for players who respect everyone else’s time. The bench is for players who don’t.”
My mouth drops open. “Are you threatening to not put me in? They recruited me to take this team to championships.”
He shrugs. “It’s not a threat, but a warning. No one on this team is more important than the other.”
“That’s not what I was saying,” I grit out.
“It’s what you implied.” He steps closer, and the scent of citrus and chlorine makes me dizzy. “The center is nobody without their team behind them.”
“I understand the value of a team,” I say, the frost in my tone clear as he pauses to stare down at me.
Fallon uncrosses his arms, resting them on his waist as his tone softens disingenuously. “Curious why you chose this college when I’m sure you had bigger names gunning for you based on your stats alone.”
Shrugging, I look away and shift on my feet. “I never made commitments to any of them.”
He nods. “I’m aware. It’s just that this campus is known for its partying, not the aquatic program.”
I stand straighter, glaring at him as I speak with conviction. “I don’t drink or smoke. I’m committed to this Division One team.”
Fallon’s lips twitch. “Being last place out of the best is still last place.”
Dragging my tongue along the back of my teeth, I give him a bitter smile. “I guess that’s what they’re paying you for, right? To take us to the top.”
Without waiting for him to respond, I give him my back. I hope my hair smacks him in the face and hurry to the locker room. I’m sure I’ll pay for that later, but my rage is boiling to the point I need to get away. My temper has a quick fuse. It’s gotten me into trouble plenty of times with my teachers and coaches. When I started this semester, I made a pact with myself to do better.
“You okay?” Emily asks.
I nod, breathing through my nose and exhaling slowly through my mouth. “Yeah. I’m just gonna rinse the sweat off and change. Wait for me?”
She doesn’t, of course. The goddess that I call my best friend runs and grabs us a coffee while I hurry to get ready for the day. I groan at the first sip as we make our way across the campus. Thankfully, our classes are in the same building.
“What did Coach Harris say?”
I roll my eyes, my previous irritation rushing back as she reminds me of that asshole. “Just giving me a hard time because I was late. It was only a few minutes, so I don’t get what the big deal was.”
Emily bites her lip and then turns to step in front of me, so we pause on the sidewalk. “I think he was looking for you.”
“For me?”
She nods. “He was waiting on the pool deck. His eyes only lingered on each of us for a few seconds before moving on. I swear he looked disappointed when Coach Amber started practice, and you weren’t there.”
I laugh, pushing her gently out of the way to keep walking. “Why would he be disappointed? He doesn’t even know me.”
“Please. You had every college vying for your attention, including USC and UCLA, and you decided to go to Slater Hills? I’m sure even Team USA is confused.”
Taking a long sip of my coffee, I shrug. “It’s not like it actually matters what college I attend. And this is still a D-1 college. As long as I continue to show up for the college games after I’m hopefully recruited for the national team.”
“Hopefully,” she says mockingly, and I smirk at her. I don’t know what I did to earn a best friend who followed me across state lines to attend the same college as me, but I’m eternally grateful.
Chapter Three
Sage
Her blonde hair is pulled back into pigtails as she runs down the sidewalk to where I’m waiting. Knowing her hair was brushed and styled before she was sent off to school tells me my mother got up some time before that. It also means that hopefully Val had something better to eat than Pop Tarts.
“Sage! I had the best day!”
I gasp, my mouth opening wide. “No way! What happened, Squirt?”
Her hand slides into mine as we walk, and her little nose scrunches. “I don’t like that nickname anymore. I want to be called something else.”
A small stab directly into my heart makes me pause. The worst part of having a sibling with a large age gap is watching them get older and knowing how little time you have with them.
I force a laugh, swinging our clashed hands. “That’s not how nicknames work. They’re given to you. You don’t choose them.”
“Then choose a different one,” she mumbles.
“Why? I like the one I gave you.”
Val sighs as dramatically as a six-year-old can. “It’s not cool anymore.”
“Sorry, Squirt. I’m the big sister. I don’t care about being cool,” I tell her.
She pouts, tilting her face away from me and stomping down the sidewalk. I smile at her little tantrum, it’s adorable.
I nudge her with my hip. “Guess who my new coach is?”
“David Beckham,” Val says immediately.
Confused, I stutter. “I–uh. What? I don’t play soccer.”
“Oh. What do you play?”
“Water polo,” I tell her slowly, knowing she’s helped me plaster all the posters of my favorite players on the wall and put up my trophies in our room. I doubt she’s paid attention to the few games our mother dragged her to on the uncommon occurrence she wasn’t working at the hospital.
Her nose wiggles. “I told my best friend, Lindsey, that you played water polo and she said she never heard of it, so it’s not cool.”
“What happened to your best friend, Marie?” I ask her. I also want to know who the hell this Lindsey is and why I’m irrationally annoyed that the little six-year-old is talking shit. She only started school two weeks before my semester did and she’s already made more friends than I’ve had in my entire life.
Val shakes her head. “She’s not my best friend anymore.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. But you can tell Lindsey that water polo is in the Summer Olympics so that makes it automatically cool.”
“What’s the Olympics?” she draws out, concentrating hard to pronounce it correctly.
“It’s like where the best players all around the world compete in their sports.”
Her eyes widen in awe. “Does David Beckham go to the Olympics?”
“I don’t know…” I resist the urge to pull out my phone and google it for the both of us.
My little sister shrugs, a little frown appearing. “Then it’s probably not cool.”
“I’m sorry, but is nothing cool unless David Beckham does it?” I laugh. Val picks up her pace, seeing our apartment building up ahead.
“Duh, Sage. He’s like the best and Lindsey says he’s really hot.”
I can’t control the twitch in my eye. “I don’t think Lindsey should be talking about who she thinks is hot at six.”
“She’s seven,” Valerie says matter of fact.
“Oh, okay. That’s much better.” I nod, letting go of her hand so she can sprint up the stairs. Val waits for me at our door as I pull out the keys.
“So, who was your coach?”
My mood drops when I think back to this morning, wondering why I brought it up to begin with. “Nobody as cool as David Beckham.”
She giggles. I smile as I ruffle her hair and head inside. I pause at the sight of our mom slumped on the couch, confused about why she’s home considering today is one of my designated days. She’s usually asleep till the time she has to head to the hospital for her twelve-hour shift.
“Mommy!” Val screeches, jumping onto the couch and startling her awake.
She blinks at my little sister before looking up at me. “Did you finalize your schedule with the coaches?”
The flare of annoyance burns in my chest, but I nod. “Yeah. Why are you up?”
