Erin squinted. Five days? But it was waning. Erin knew dates for all the full moons, and the moon had been new nine days ago.
She felt upside-down again.
Of course! That was the problem: she was upside-down. A Southern Hemisphere’s waxing moon was a C. A waning moon was a backward C.
Erin’s cheek muscles pulled into a huge smile. And she cried. Everything was backward and upside-down, including the moon … and she was probably the only person on Earth thinking about it. And even if Ben was looking at the moon at this very instant, this view of it was hers.
Finally, the moon was hers again.
FORTY-ONE
Erin advanced to finals for all three butterfly races: 50M, 100M, and 200M.
Waiting for the judge’s signal to mount the block for the 50M final, Erin tried to focus.
If she didn’t compete at college, this was her last day of competitive swimming. Ever. Her heart leapt to her throat. She almost couldn’t breathe, and breathing was the number-one most important thing for swimmers.
The race would last under a minute, and they were nearly ready to start. Hold it together for one minute. Think later.
The judge called them to the blocks.
Erin grabbed the platform and waited.
And she was in the pool. For the first length, Erin stayed under for every second stroke, but on the return, she breathed on every stroke. Her lungs screamed. She was a single muscle, flexing herself through the water, pulling, pulling, pulling.
She touched the wall, and it was over.
She hung onto the rope for a second, her forehead against the wall.
Part elated, part terrified, she rested her head until her teammates swarmed.
Jade said, “Well done, WELL DONE!” and Percy beamed.
Erin checked the clock.
Her mind was racing.
Next to her time was NR.
Percy grabbed her hand, pulled her from the water, and wrapped her in an enormous hug, pool water seeping from her suit to his sweater.
Erin couldn’t find Felicity among the throngs of people, most of whom were on their feet.
They hadn’t stood for the other finals.
Percy said, “National champion. National record. You know what Americans say: go big or go home!”
Lalitha.
The crowd was on its feet for her.
Her time was good enough for States at home. She never would have won U.S. Nationals, but here she was a national champion. Amazing. Unique. She had done it. Claire would be overjoyed.
She waved to the crowd and wrapped herself in a towel before calling Claire.
“I did it!” Erin said. “I won. And I set a national record in the 50-meter fly.”
“Great,” Claire said. “Can you win the other two?”
Staring at her feet, Erin swallowed hard. “I don’t know. Probably?”
“I’ll bet you can. Do you feel strong?”
“I do. I’m on.”
“But how’s your endurance? Can you hold out the rest of the day? You need to win them all. New Zealand is pretty small. Here, you’re competing in a country of 320 million. New Zealand is what? Four?”
“Almost five. And I am the national champion. I just set a national record.”
“Okay,” Claire said. “You know national champion will impress, but if you hold three championships, no one can turn you down. No one, Erin.”
“You’re right,” Erin said. “I can do it. I know I can.”
“We’re having a phones off date tonight—Bien Trucha—so if you miss me, leave a message to let me know you’ve done it. I’ll tell Dad when we’re done.”
Erin’s voice was quiet. “Okay. I’ll call when I’m done then.”
“You’ll get there, Erin. Close the deal. You’re almost there.”
Aren’t I there already? “I will.”
“Go win!” Claire said.
“Bye, Mom.”
Tears stinging her eyes, Erin dressed in her warm-ups and returned to the pool area.
FORTY-TWO
New Zealand does a medal ceremony for their national championships. Erin stood on a podium while the announcer read her name and time. She’d broken a nine-year record, set more than half her life ago. Erin’s name would appear in the aquatic center lobby, which was kind of like Wheaton’s athletic hall of fame, where Elena Basignani set all the cross-country records in the 1990s.
How long would her name remain in the kiwi hall of fame?
Erin stepped down from the podium and hugged her teammates. The girl who had won third said, “I thought you looked familiar. You’re the pink puke girl.”
Erin’s eyes widened as silence descended.
“What’s that?” Marama asked.
“The online girl who ran around naked throwing up pink everywhere. I have a GIF of it in my phone.” She reached into her bag.
Jade and Marama wrapped their arms around Erin’s shoulders and guided her to a private corner. They shooed people away as Erin cried, “Oh God, oh God, oh God.”
Jade knelt in front of Erin. “Tell us what’s going on.”
Erin’s tears gushed. “I had just lost my swim captainship. It was the night before my seventeenth birthday. And it was a Saturday. Date night with Ben.” She drew a deep breath, ready to release her shame into the wild again.
Erin had nursed her beverage long enough that her head was cloudy and feet were fuzzy.
Ben grabbed her hand and grinned.
Lalitha got close to Erin’s face. “You all right, sweetie?”
Erin grinned and added an exaggerated nod for good measure. She was perfectly fine.
Ben led her upstairs, away from their friends and the vibrating speakers. Two unidentifiable girls sat, lip-locked, on the hall window seat, all arms and legs and hair and slurping.
Bed led Erin up the spiral staircase to the locked observatory door. Eager, she kissed his neck while he fumbled for the key in his pocket.
Ben snaked his arms around her. “I really like this version of Erin. Hairy Buffalo makes you a little aggressive.”
Erin hiccupped and giggled. “What are we really doing in there, Ben?”
“We’re looking at Jupiter. Lalitha said I could give you Jupiter for your birthday.”
“It’s cloudy tonight,” Erin said as her brain continued clouding over. “And opposition was over a week ago.”
He kissed her
