I was never much of a runner. The thought of sweat running down my back while every muscle in my body tensed from the impact of my feet hitting the ground was not my cup of tea. What I did love was to swim. The feel of the water as it glides across your body as you propelled yourself forward to opposite's ends of the pool. I was actually quite good at it. Good enough that someone thought I'd be great to be Captain of our team in my senior year. I don't know what they were thinking; I was never the social type, not exactly everyone's first choice to come to when they needed more training. But neither was He.

I never realized in our earlier adventures in our childhood, that he was only a year younger than me. But I guess it isn't fair that you judge a person's age by their height. Especially boys. But when I saw him at the pool one afternoon, I was amazed. He must have grown a good two feet since I last saw him, and now I actually had to raise my head to look at his face properly.

The chlorine from the pool was stripping away the green dye in his hair. The brown hair peeking from the roots was an odd thing to see, and for some reason, it didn't suit him well. No wonder why he dyed it. He stood back from the rest of the boy's team, his eyes calculating as each member reached one end to the other. He only nodded or shook his head when asked a question. He demonstrated moves without moving his lips. He seemed to have created a sort of silent communication with the rest of his team, a weird sort of sign language that only they understood. It was a genius move, especially when competing so close with other teams. The guys wrapped up their session in the pool fairly quickly. As they collected their towels and made their way to the locker room, we got the usual whistles, winks, and comments. But all he did was nod.

It went on like that for a few weeks. Until that Tuesday when Coach Daniels had had enough. I walked into the pool at the exact time he started yelling at the boys that they were no better than our team. Something about that comment made me snap. It's one thing that I inherited from my father, quick temper followed by a smart mouth. Apparently, I said something along the lines of "your right, they're worse," which then prompted Coach Daniels to say "prove it." Never one to back away from the fight I made my way to the edge of the pool.

"Fletcher! Join her at the edge." Coach yelled.

I turned to look at him as I adjusted my goggles. And all I got was a nod. At that moment my blood began to boil. I was silently screaming at him in my head. 'A, hello how are you, would be nice or hi Vanessa, haven't seen you in a while how's things? Pip Pip cheerio and all that bullocks.' Nope, just a nod. I bent over to reach my toes, waiting for the whistle. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and envisioned the water's first kiss against my skin. The whistle blew and I soared into the air, tucking my head down to create the perfect dive. The coolness of the water engulfed me. I opened my eyes to receive the first sting of chemicals. Then, my body kicked into overdrive. Arms and shoulders rotating, legs and feet pumping up and down to a perfect beat. I counted the lines on the floor of the pool, after the fifth one, I took a large gulp of air as I prepared to flip. I pushed with all the strength I had off that wall, soaring through the water once again. Every time I came up for another breath, I could hear our teammates cheering us on. None of it made any sense, too many voices in the air, not enough time to clear the water from my ears.

We repeated these motions four times. I never saw him. I never see anybody when I race. I seem to have created my own tunnel vision when I'm in the water. But when I reached the last stretch, the yells were getting louder, my muscles were starting to burn, and then I hit the wall. I came up gasping for breath, and turned to look in his lane. The second I turned he hit the wall. I raised an eyebrow at him. His mouth was open due to heavy breathing, but I thought for sure he was going to say something. He pulled himself out of the pool, and towards his teammates. In a fury I shot out of the pool and went after him.

"Well?" I yelled at him.

He turned as he pulled his goggles off.

"It seems you were right, Vanessa. Your team is better." He said quietly then turned to leave the pool area.

A few weeks later Championships were upon us. And it was then that I had noticed he had taken a more direct approach as a Captain. Using words and actions to convey his message. His team was getting stronger, faster, and more agile in the water. For one humorous second, I envisioned him and his brother creating some sort of half human half fish creature in their backyard to help him win. Surely, that would be cause for disqualification.

The girls and I set our stuff done next to theirs against the wall. We watched the boys compete as we stretched in the background. Well, I actually, the girls watched the ones in the pool; I was watching the one at the edge with that calculating gaze etched onto his features once again. That intensity sent shivers done my spine.

I turned to reach into my bag for my cap and goggles. When I turned back around I was startled by the strong mass that was blocking my path.

"Do I scare you Vanessa?" He asked.

"Well, when you silently sneak up on me, yes, yes you do." I said sternly as I walked around to the edge of the pool.

"I've noticed you've been veering to the left when you swim. Is your shoulder bothering you?"

I stopped and turned to look at him. I hadn't told anyone about the chronic pain in my arm. Having surgery would have destroyed my chances of getting to this point. I wanted to see this year's team through to the end.

"You've been watching me?" I asked him.

He took a step closer to me, and nodded.

"Doof! Get to the line!" I heard coach yell.

Butterflies in my stomach are not exactly what I needed right now. No, I had to concentrate, had to win. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and waited.

I remember hitting the wall and my teammates cheering as they pointed at the clock. I remember seeing my competitors on either side of me hit the wall a few seconds later. And then I remembered the pain.

I tucked my right arm against my body, and tried to pull myself out with just my left hand, which proved fruitless. My teammates were the first to notice that I couldn't get out of the pool. Jenna made the decision to run and get our coach, but it was Raechel that turned and got Ferb.

He raced over to the pool, and leapt in beside me. Ducking his head to get into my lane, he turned me around so that my back was against the pool. I could feel his hot breath glide across my cheek, his hands at my waist as he told my coach not to pull me up by my shoulder. He looked down and we locked eyes for a few seconds.

He seemed to be the one to shake himself out of it first.

"I'm going to lift you out, it might hurt." he said as he lowered himself a few inches to brace himself.

I nodded, and waited for the pain in my shoulder to increase. When they get me onto the edge of the pool, coach ran to get the first aid kit. I watched as Ferb lifted himself out of the pool and sit beside me. He shook the water out of his hair, before he turned to me and lifted the goggles off my face. I watched as he set them down next to me and then lifted his hand to remove my cap. I brushed my hair with my fingers.

"You're beautiful." I heard him whisper.

I don't think he meant to say it out loud, because in the next second his ears turned a funny colored pink. He looked at me with wide eyes, then got to his feet and walked away when coach came over with a sling.

I had to have surgery. On my list of things to do this year, being in the hospital was not on it. On top of that, the doctor told me that I might lose some flexibility in my shoulder, and that lots of physical therapy was going to be needed. So I could pretty much kiss my scholarships goodbye for next year.

I was sitting in bed the day after surgery trying to find something other than mid day soap operas on the TV. when there was a knock at my door. I glanced over and there he was.

"Hey." I said as I put the remote down.

"Hi. Umm...I have something for you. Well, two things actually." He said as he fumbled for his backpack.

The first thing he pulled out was an obnoxious looking trophy. I reached for it with my good arm. First place. I smiled at the gold plate.

"Last one I'll ever get." I said as I put it on my night stand.

"Well, that can't be true. A few months of healing, therapy and training and you'll be back in the water proving that girls are indeed better than boys."

I laughed.

"What's the other thing you have for me?" I said anxiously.

He reached into his bag again and pulled out a long white box. He looked hard at it before he handed it over to me. I opened it slowly, my eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"Umm... thanks?" I said as I gave him a questioning look.

He had a slight smile on his face.

"I bought you that rose when we were on the Eiffel Tour. But you left before I could give it to you."

"You kept it all this time?" I asked. "Why?"

"In hopes that I would be able to give it to you again one day."

I got up and walked over to him. He watched my every step as I got closer. I leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek, when suddenly he turned his head and I met his lips.

I once thought that there was nothing better than the feel of water gliding against my skin. But I think that I might have found something better.