Envy

“Beth, wait!” he called uselessly.

Disconnected.

“Nervous?” Harper asked, hoping that her voice sounded normal and that Adam wouldn’t notice the desire throbbing beneath her carefully casual smile. They stood at the edge of the Olympic-size pool, waiting for Adam’s heat to start, and as Adam shifted his weight from one foot to the other and anxiously watched his teammates finish up the butterfly relay, Harper watched… Adam.

He was wearing nothing but tight orange briefs and an orange and black swim cap with goggles strapped around his head. His tan skin glistened, still wet from his warm-up laps. Harper’s eyes traced a path down his taut biceps, his chiseled abs, the angular curves of his muscles… His body was like a work of art.

“Not really,” he murmured, looking out at the huge crowd of screaming spectators. “It’s just a meet, just like any other.”

The lie was obvious in his face, but Harper didn’t call him on it.

“Good,” she said warmly. “Nothing to be nervous about.”

He looked past her into the distance for a moment, a wistful look crossing his face.

“I just wish…” His voice trailed off, but Harper knew what he was thinking. He wished that Beth were there. Sweet, loving Beth, his little good luck charm, always there to support him in his time of need. But she wasn’t there now, was she?

Better get used to it, she warned him silently.

“Never mind,” he said, shaking it off. “It’s going to be fine. I’m going to be fine.”

“You’re going to be great” she corrected him-and suddenly, without fearing what he would do or think, threw her arms around him. Just a friendly hug, she told herself, pretending not to notice the warm touch of his bare skin against her body. For now. “Good luck,” she murmured.

“Thanks, Harper,” he whispered, clutching her tightly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

So was she.

Adam loved swimming. He loved the way his body sliced through the water, he loved the harsh, unforgiving rhythm of the strokes, and he loved the feel of his muscles working in concert, disconnected from his mind, from worries of speed or victory, just pushing and pushing, toward their limit. And, on good days, beyond.

But most of all, he loved the silence. When he dove off the edge and slipped beneath the water, the noise of the world dropped away. The screams and cheers of the crowd disappeared, and the universe narrowed to a single bluish tunnel of water. Nothing mattered except his body and his breathing, and forcing his limbs to cut through the water, surging ever ahead. He could shut out all the background noise of his life, shut off his mind, and just focus. Just be.

But today, with so much riding on this race-and with so many problems waiting for him back on dry land-he worried that the water wouldn’t work its familiar magic. As he stood poised at the edge of the pool, waiting for his moment, he couldn’t get the noise to stop, couldn’t find his focus. It wasn’t just the screaming crowd, or the yells of his teammates. It was the sound of Beth’s voice in his head, telling him she wouldn’t be there. Telling him she’d rather stay home, with Kane. Faces flashed through his head: an apologetic Beth, a smirking Kane, and then Harper, with such a look of calm and comfort that he almost believed her, for a moment, that everything would be okay. At the thought of Harper, the voices almost quieted, and the rapid pounding of Adam’s heart subsided-but only for a moment. Because thinking of Harper cheering for him on the sidelines reminded him of Beth’s absence. And that led him back to Kane. He couldn’t escape it, the sound of his own thoughts and fears. He couldn’t clear his mind, couldn’t concentrate, and then-

The sharp report of the starting gun.

A dive off the edge, the sharp pain of cold water slamming into him.

A new world, silent and awash in blue.

His mind shut down, his body took over-and Adam finally let go.

They’d had a marathon study day, cramming last-minute vocab and equations into their heads for hours on end until even Beth felt like her brain was about to melt.

“I’m totally burnt,” she finally said, throwing down her pen. “How about a break? We can pick up with this again in the morning.”

“You?” Kane asked with mock incredulity. “My faithful taskmaster is actually suggesting we stop early? How inconceivable!”

“Hey, I can be stupefying sometimes.”

They both burst into laughter at the ridiculously unnecessary use of SAT words.

“God, we have turned into complete SAT nerds, haven’t we?” Beth moaned through her laughter.

“Harvard, here I come.” He looked serious suddenly. “And it’s all thanks to you.”

“Oh, no, Kane,” she said, blushing. “I don’t even know why you wanted my help in the first place-you’re such a quick study. I barely had to do anything.”

“You did plenty,” he insisted. “And I still can’t believe you were willing to waste so much time on a screwup like me, not when you had so much else you needed to take care of.”

“It was my pleasure,” Beth assured him. “What would I have done without the company?”

They sat across the table from each other, silent for a moment. The air was charged with tension. Beth stared into his eyes, wanted to look away, but couldn’t. She didn’t know what she was doing or feeling-but she knew it was dangerous.

“Well, I don’t know about you,” she said finally, with a forced joviality intended to break the intensity of the moment. Her too-loud voice seemed to echo in the still room. “But I’m voraciously ravenous. You want to meet back here early tomorrow?”

Kane smiled. “Actually, I think I’ve got a better idea-meet me at the northeast corner of Dwyer Park in an hour? I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

“Tonight? Don’t you have a hot date or something?” She winced inwardly at the thought of him groping yet another bimbo-or worse, someone actually substantive, someone he could really fall for.

She stopped herself, suddenly-that wouldn’t be worse, that would be better. She wanted the best for Kane, she reminded herself. He should be with someone good, someone substantive-someone else.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be tonight than with you,” he assured her. “Now, I know I’m only a poor stand-in for Adam-”

“Forget about Adam,” she said, a little more harshly than she’d intended. “You’re right. We’ve been working hard, and we deserve to celebrate-you and me.”

“Okay, then don’t forget,” he said, heading toward the door. “Dwyer Park, northeast corner, one hour. Can’t wait.”

Neither could she.

Adam raised his trophy over his head one more time, and the Haven High fans sent up a deafening cheer. He’d been grinning so hard, and for so long, that his face felt stretched out of shape, but he couldn’t stop. Third place in the four hundred-yard IM at regional championships-it was better than he’d ever expected to do. And if he was disappointed to have lost out on first place by only a few seconds-well, his beaming teammates and the adoring crowd had wiped such thoughts from his mind.

He turned to Harper, who’d been standing loyally by his side all day long. She’d been there to wish him luck before his races, and had greeted him with a howl of triumph every time he’d pulled himself out of the pool. After his big event, the four-hundred IM, he’d swept her, soaking wet, into a tight hug-relieved the race was over, relieved he had someone with whom to share his victory. Together, they’d watched the rest of the heats, cheered on his teammates, waited through the interminable award ceremony. And when Adam had stood to receive his two-foot-high trophy, Harper’s shouts of encouragement had risen above the noise of the crowd.

The meet had cleared his mind, worn him out. He had no energy, no will, to think about his problems, to worry- instead he just relaxed and enjoyed himself. And enjoyed Harper. It was so easy between the two of them. They’d been friends for so long that they didn’t have to try when they were together, they didn’t have to wonder or worry about what the other was thinking. They could just laugh and talk-just be together.

“Come on,” he urged her, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her along. Now that the meet was