| Her heart beat roughly against her breast bone. This was it. The race to decide it all. She curled her toes over the edge of the block in anticipation. ...Take your mark... She curved her back to touch her shaking fingertips to the block's coarse surface. ...Bang!... The gun exploded, sending her out over the water. As soon as her body glided into the cool surface, she was stroking her arms around her shoulders like two pinwheels. ...Come on, come on... Her legs kicked numbly faster then ever before. ...He's watching you; kick!... She closed her eyes for a split second and flipped though the turn like a gymnast. This was her chance. She needed to win. She needed him proud of her. Just this once. Her arms continued to flail lifelessly, carrying her to the was strongly. Her hands unconsciously grabbed her goggles and cap off and trained her eyes to the lighted time board. ...Lane 3 (still need to this of a really good time)... She gasped slightly and pulled her weight out of the pool. Taking her towel as she went, she ran to the area where her coach sat. "You got a (same time as above, I need to talk to *my* coach)," was all he said. She tried to control her smile, but failed. "Yes, I did." "Your best time in the 50 free is (another time here that isn't as good)." He continued, his eyes still locked on the pool. "You did really well. You've worked very hard. I'm proud of you." He put his hand out for a high five and smiled, turning to her. She grinned. He was proud of her. *Proud.* Of *her.* She slapped his hand and walked away, stunned. She threw her cap and goggles down on her bag and thought. ...What have you done today to make you feel proud... |
| ...What have you done today to make you feel proud... |
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