“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, but would you sign this for me?” A young girl of about eleven had approached the group of them a few moments later, before the race was about to begin.

Juliet looked quizzically at Aaron, and then at Ava and Ella, who both shrugged. The three of them watched eagerly as Aaron signed a slip of paper for the girl, talked to her a moment, and then smiled before she walked off.

“Are you, ah, an actor?” Ella questioned, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Or a news reporter?” Ava asked, cocking her head to the side and peering at him, trying to place him. “You DO look familiar.”

Juliet looked back and forth between them, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.

Aaron seemed uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat. “Actually, no. I swim.”

“Swim?” Ava repeated, as if she’d never heard the word before. “For fun?”

“Or leisure?” Ella inquired, her forehead furrowed in concentration.

“Leisure means the same as fun, El,” Ava stated, laughing.

He cleared his throat. “For fun and leisure…and other stuff.”

Juliet was tossing magazine pages back, desperately searching for a particular article. “Aaron Peirsol!” She yelled in triumph, slapping the article with her palm; she winced when she realized how loud her voice was.

He smiled sheepishly. “That’s me.”

Ava’s mouth dropped open. “You’re hot.”

“Very,” Ella agreed, shaking her head. “We’ve seen you on TV. We’re from California…”

“Ahhh,” Aaron said, nodding in knowing. “Of course.”

“I didn’t know who you were,” Juliet said eventually. “Didn’t recognize you I guess. My mind must have been elsewhere.”

Aaron smirked. “I guess so.”

*

“That’s it,” Ella said, the second Aaron had gone back to his seat (which turned out to be among the US swim team members). “I’m not meeting anyone else.”

“Ever?” Ava asked in surprise.

“Yes.” Ella confirmed stoutly. “That is the second time I have met a celebrity and not known who they were. It’s too embarrassing.”

“Ella,” Juliet said, using her best ‘you’re being silly’ voice. “You’d hardly not recognize Tom Cruise, now would you. It’s just a coincidence and it’ll probably never happen again.”

“Exactly,” Ava joined in, nodding vigorously. “They’re not really celebrities, anyway. I mean, they are, but they’re not.”

“That makes very little sense,” Ella replied, paying careful attention to the swimmers below. “Anyway, they are celebrities to us because we are FANS.”

“Horrible fans,” Ava remarked dryly. “If we can’t even recognize them when we see them. Though, it was you two who didn’t recognize Thorpie, so I can’t be blamed for that.”

“You’re not helping,” Juliet chided, huffing out a breath. “I now know how Ella felt last night after the Thorpedo incident.”

“Incidentally, can we stop talking and watch? Thorpie is disrobing.”

All three girls turned to the pool and watched as Ian Thorpe took off a jacket and pants while Michael Phelps did the same beside him.

“This is like soft core porn,” Ava breathed, looking flushed.

Ella cast her a look. “Please, Ava. I’ve just eaten.”

“Prude.”

“Whore.”

“Girls,” Juliet interrupted, waving her arms around. “There are half naked boys down there wearing Speedos. There is no need to fight.”

Ella and Ava stared at her. “Too right,” Ella said, going back to the pool.

“How foolish of us,” Ava agreed, also looking back at the pool.

Juliet rolled her eyes, laughing slightly. For some odd reason, she couldn’t stop glancing every so often to where Aaron sat. And, it could have been her imagination, but he seemed to be looking away from her every time she glanced. After this happened for a sixth time, she assumed she was delusional and she tried very hard to apply herself to cheering for Michael Phelps until her throat was sore.

“That Speedo,” Ella said, once Michael had emerged from the pool (having just won a bronze).

“Mmmmmmmmmmm,” Ava responded, wiping drool off her chin.

“Hot,” Juliet put in, her eyes trained on Michael. “He’s hugging Thorpie again, Av.”

Ava giggled. “They’re so in love.”

Ella groaned. “Please not that again.”

“They’re so cute together,” Juliet said, ignoring Ella’s protests. “Ella, we’re JUST saying.”

“But he’s so sweet,” Ella said eventually. “Ian, I mean. Very sweet.”

“She liiiiiiikes him,” Ava sang, smirking.

“I don’t know him,” Ella argued, blushing a little.

Ava started laughing hysterically. “She’s blushing!”

“Ava, shut up.”

But Ava did not shut up, and that resulted in Ella grabbing Juliet’s magazine and hitting her over the head with it.

*

“So we know Ian Thorpe and Aaron Peirsol,” Ava was saying as the girls all sat down at a rickety table outside of a café a few hours later with very strong coffees. “Is that the entire list of our connections? Or are you holding out on me?”

Ella gave her a sour look. “We don’t know them. We’ve met them. There is a difference.”

Ava sighed dramatically, “Honestly, Ella. You can stretch a truth a bit.”

“No, you can’t. It’s called lying.” She poured a liberal amount of cream into her coffee and swirled it around with a straw (as there were no spoons).

She waved her hand around, as if brushing the sentence away; Juliet cleared her throat warningly and Ella stared at her coffee, frowning.

“That was a really great race,” Juliet said after a few moments of silence.

“I wanna know about Aaron,” Ava perked up, looking at her friend expectantly across the table. “I think he likes you. How do you feel about him?”

“Is this an interview?” Juliet questioned, sneering at her.

“Just answer the question.”

“She doesn’t have to,” Ella interjected.

“I’m not going to,” Juliet replied easily, sipping her coffee. “So, stop.”

Ava pouted. “Aw, come on.”

Juliet stared at her. “There’s nothing to tell, so you can drop it now. Let’s talk about the weather.”

“Michael Phelps is hot,” Ava said offhandedly, glancing down the street.

Ella and Juliet exchanged glances; there was just no dissuading their boy-crazy friend.