“I don’t see why you had to drag me out,” Ava complained loudly as she was being dragged down the dirt road toward the villa in the dark of night. “Cyril was showing me the most interesting dance move.”

Juliet rolled her eyes at Ella, who shook her head in agreement; Ella had no spoken a word for a good half hour. This was not entirely unusual, as Ella was often the type to go off into her own world and not speak, but this time it was a bit different.

“El?” Ava said, squinting into the darkness at her friend. “I can feel you dragging me along, but I can’t hear you.”

“She’s there,” Juliet said stoutly, pushing Ava along. “She just won’t speak.”

“Why?” Ava asked, craning her head to look completely at Ella.

“Embarrassment,” Ella muttered, cringing as the memory hit her afresh.

“Of what?” Ava wondered conversationally.

“Didn’t know Ian Thorpe.”

Ava seemed pretty confused, but it could be because she’d had a relatively good amount to drink, and as she was quite tiny, she didn’t hold it well. “But you’ve known him for years. Not personally, of course…but you’ve known him.”

“We met him,” Juliet stated, hoping over a large rock jutting out into the road. “She didn’t recognize him.”

Ava gasped. “NO! You met the Thorpedo!? Was he wearing his underwear?!”

“I didn’t get a chance to check,” Ella replied stonily, tripping over a rock and nearly falling into the field beyond them.

“Oh man, oh man,” Ava replied in a squeaky voice; Ava’s favorite saying in the world was “oh man, oh man.”

“Come on, Ava,” Juliet said, yawning as she pushed open the gate to the villa’s courtyard, “Let’s get you to bed.”

*

“You can’t go?” Juliet asked incredulously as she and Ella sat on the patio, at the table, with bread and honey surrounding them and Ava’s soft snores drifting down from her bedroom. “Ella, you’re way overreacting.”

“I’m not,” Ella replied, sounding hurt. “I’m completely humiliated. I made a fool of myself in front of him.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t care that you didn’t recognize him. God, Ella.” Juliet smeared some butter on some bread and shoved the whole piece into her mouth; Ella cringed.

“It’s not just that,” she said meekly, daintily putting some honey on her bread. (A practice that made Juliet gag.)

“What did you do?” Juliet asked, averting her gaze to the courtyard. “Come onto him?”

“Not exactly.” She sighed. “I just don’t want to go, okay? I just want to stay here.”

“Ella, I refuse to let you stay here on your own all day while we go have fun at the Olympics. It’s the Olympics, for God’s sake.”

“Fine.” In consent, Ella shoved some of her honeyed bread into her mouth. Through the crumbs, she muttered. “I’ll go. But I’m steering clear of him.”

Juliet shrugged. “I don’t think you’ll be able to get near him, anyway. He IS probably the sexiest swimmer there.”

“That’s not what you said last week.”

“It’s what I’m saying now.”

“What about Michael? You’ve been in love with him for years.”

Another shrug. “I’m moving on.”

*

“Excuse me. Sorry. Ow, sorry about that. Sir? Thank you. Excuse me. Excuse me.” Juliet plopped into her seat with a sigh of relief. “Jesus.”

“Good Lord,” Ella complained, dropping down beside her. “It’s a madhouse here.”

“It’s almost as if we’re at the Olympics or something,” Ava mused, looking around quizzically.

Ella laughed. “Oh, shut up.”

Ava relaxed against the back of her seat, folding her arms across her chest to keep clear of the man beside her (who was rather burly). “This IS the biggest swim, you know.”

“We know,” Ella and Juliet chorused.

“It’s van den Hoogenband, Thorpe AND Phelps. This is like the World Cup!”

“Only not,” Juliet replied. “Because this is swimming, and not soccer.”

Ava shrugged in an uncaring fashion. “You get the idea.” She then decided to have a look around the stands, as watching people was probably one of her favorite pastimes. She elbowed Ella as discreetly as she could (which wasn’t very discreet at all.)

“OW!” Ella moaned, rubbing her side.

“Stop being a baby. Look, isn’t that the guy with the curly blond hair we saw yesterday?”

Ella followed her friends gaze to the row in front of them, a few people over. “Well, he has the same hair.”

Juliet was flipping through a magazine in boredom.

“Jules. Look at that.” Ava was leaning over Ella, trying to pry the magazine away from her friend. “There are hot guys all over the place and you’re reading.”

“I like reading,” Juliet stated evenly, flicking her eyes to the guy they were ogling. “Yes, he has blond curly hair. Magazine please. I was reading about dolphin kicks.”

As the magazine was being slid back onto her lap, the curly blond haired man looked up at them and smiled; pretty soon he was attempting to get into their row (no small feat).

“What is he doing?” Ella whispered in shock.

“Walking,” Ava replied simply. “It happens sometimes.”

Ella shot her a dirty look. “Thank you, Ava. You intelligence never ceases to amaze me.”

Ava winked at her. “No problem.”

Juliet was staring at him as she approached the three girls and maneuvered the other patrons of the row to move down a seat so he could sit in the seat that had just opened up beside Juliet.

“Hey again,” he said, smiling at Juliet and then turning to the other two, who were staring at him open-mouthed. “I’m Aaron.”

“Ava,” Ava replied smoothly, smiling a winning smile. “This is Ella. You know Juliet?”

“We met briefly yesterday,” Aaron confirmed easily.

“He saved me from a barrage of tourists with big cameras.”

“And big feet,” Aaron put in, smirking at her. “Don’t forget their big feet.”

“How could I? I still have the wound.”

Ava and Ella exchanged glances of the ‘what the hell is going on’ variety. Aaron, oblivious to their shock, settled back attempting to immerse Juliet in conversation about the day’s race. Juliet, completely confounded, did not know what to say.

“So, who do you think will win?” Aaron questioned, glancing down at the magazine in her lap (it was open to an article about Ian Thorpe). “Thorpe, I take it.”

Juliet subtly closed the magazine and looked back at the pool; she was finding it hard to look him in the eye. “Um, no. I was thinking----”

“Michael Phelps,” Ava put in helpfully. “She is crazy about him.”

“Thank you, Ava,” Juliet said through gritted teeth as Aaron looked on in amusement. She turned to Aaron, smiling brightly. “I think van den Hoogenband has a good chance. But Thorpe is the best.”

Aaron nodded and was about to say something when Ava burst out, “HOOOOOOOOGIE!” as a pack of swimmers approached the poolside. Aaron, taken aback by this, stared at her in horror.

“PHELPSIE!” Ella cajoled, joining in. This was more in an attempt to embarrass Juliet than to actually cheer anyone on.

Juliet smiled wanly at a bewildered Aaron. “They’re avid swimming fans.”

Aaron laughed slightly. “I can see that.”