Ann Martin - Jessi's Gold Medal

"I hope everyone has a bathing suit that fits," Ms. Walden went on, "because starting next week, the community pool complex will be open during school days, and I'll be taking you there for swim lessons during gym period."

The cheers and groans that followed were about even. As for me, I was thrilled. Free lessons? Great! Maybe by the time the summer started, I'd be able to sign up for intermediate classes on my family membership.

Mal didn't feel the same way. I found that out later, as we were walking back to the gym after forty-five minutes of calisthenics and field

hockey. We were both out of breath and dripping with glow. Mal wiped her forehead and said, "Well, there's one good thing about going to the pool for gym class."

"What?" I asked.

Mal looked over her shoulder, in the direction of the community pool complex, then thought for a moment. "It's about a five-minute walk there and a five-minute walk back," she said. "So that's ten minutes less gym!"

I laughed. "Mal, you're so negative*. This'll be great. We'll get out of school for a whole period, and we'll learn how to do something fun."

"I already know how to swim pretty well," Mal said.

"Maybe they'll have more advanced lessons, "I suggested. "Or maybe you'll be able to get some coaching for the Sports Festival." Then I remembered how unexcited Mal had been about the Sports Festival at our BSC meeting. "I mean, if you decide to be in it . . ."

"Everybody else is going to be in it, right?" Mal said. "In the BSC, I mean."

"Except Mary Anne," I reminded her.

"You're going to be in it."

"Yeah ..."

"Well," Mal said with a shrug, "then I will, too."

"Great," I said. I'd never seen Mal so touchy, but I didn't say anything. I couldn't blame her. The weather was enough to put anyone in a bad mood.

It cooled off a little over the weekend, and by Tuesday the sky was clear, and the air was breezy and dry. Tuesday was the day of our first gym class at the community pool complex.

I guess they call it a "complex" because it has three pools — an Olympic-sized swimming pool, a wading pool, and a diving pool (all outdoors). Ms. Walden told us we were going to use the big pool, and I couldn't wait.

"I am soooo excited," I exclaimed to Mal as we walked toward the girls' locker room with our class, clutching our swimsuits.

Mal was frowning. And not listening to me. "What's that?" she asked.

"What's what?"

"That noise! Are the boys here?"

I looked where she was looking. Sure enough, a door on the other side of a long snack bar said BOYS' SHOWERS. The unmistakable yelling of boys came from inside. "I guess we're sharing the pool with their gym class," I said.

"Oh, no!" Mal cried, as if she had to kiss Alan Gray or something. "No one told us that!"

"I know. But what's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal? I only brought the ugliest, babiest bathing suit in the world!"

She held it out, and I have to admit she wasn't lying. It was an out-of-style, faded, one-piece suit with a ruffled skirt. "Oooops . . ."I said, trying not to smile.

"It's not funny," Mal said. "I'm going to look ridiculous. This is so unfair!"

I tried to cheer Mal up, but she sulked while we changed into our suits. Finally I agreed to stand between her and the boys, to block her from view. That made her feel a little better.

So we walked out to the pool, in our suits, Mallory using me as a shield. Her shoulders were hunched, her knees were bent, and she was looking over my shoulder at the boys. "This is so embarrassing!" she said.

The boys were all on one side of the pool, and the girls stuck together on the other side. We looked like enemies gathering for war council. The boys were pretending not to notice us, but I could see one or two curious faces staring at Mal and me.

"Uh, Mal," I said. "You know, I have a feeling you're attracting more attention by doing this."

"I don't want anyone to see me!" she whispered sharply.

Ms. Walden's voice boomed out from be-

hind us. "Okay, girls, stand in a line by the pool!"

We did. Now we were all facing the boys. By then some of them were whispering to each other and laughing. Mal was dying. Benny Ott, a true goon, was doing a really dumb imitation of a girl's walk, swinging his hips from side to side and making some of his dorky friends laugh.

"Ott, get over here!" the boys' teacher yelled.

"They are so immature!" Mal whispered.

"I know," I agreed.

"I'm freezing." Mal said. "Look!" She held out her arms, which were covered with goose bumps.

"Yeah, it's pretty cool out," I agreed.

"We shouldn't have to get our hair wet! We could catch pneumonia and die!"

"Mal, I don't think it's that — "

Ms. Walden's voice interrupted our conversation. "Now, I know you must be at different levels of swimming," she said. "And I'm aware some of you may not swim at all. But don't worry. Today I'm going to give you each a swimming test, and then divide the class into groups. I want you to feel comfortable. Let's go alphabetically ..."

Mal just stood there, stone-faced. I felt awful for her.

Ms. Walden began testing us, one by one. When Mal's turn finally came, she dived quietly into the water and did a pretty good backstroke, breast stroke, crawl, and dog paddle.

"That was great!" I said as Mal climbed out of the pool.

"Thanks."

Ah-ha! A smile! I actually saw one. I guess Mal was loosening up a little.

"Jessi?" Ms. Walden said. "Come on, your turn."

Suddenly I realized I'd been so concerned with Mal I hadn't thought of myself. I wasn't such a great swimmer. How foolish was I going to look?

I dived in and did whatever Ms. Walden asked me to do, which was all the strokes Mal did. I did them my way, slowly and carefully. At one point I saw Ms. Walden whispering with another woman, who looked at me and nodded.

Oh, great, I thought. They're trying to figure out if there's going to be a group slow enough for me.

But when my test was over, Ms. Walden took me aside and said, "Jessi, could you see me after class?"

"Sure," I said.

Remedial swimming. Those were the first words that popped into my head. Ms. Wal-

den — or maybe that other woman — was going to tutor me personally.

Now it was my turn to feel awful. I plopped down on the edge of the pool next to Mal. Neither of us said a word.

Finally, when class was over, I approached Ms. Walden. The other woman was standing next to her. She was thin, with short, darkish-blond hair and a wide smile. I tried to smile back.

"Jessi, this is Ms. Cox," Ms. Walden said.

Ms. Cox held out her hand and I shook it. "I was watching you swim before. Have you had dance training?" she asked me.

That wasn't the question I had expected. "Uh-huh," I said. "I take ballet lessons."

Ms. Cox smiled even wider. "I thought so. I could tell by your form in the water — very lyrical and smooth."

"Thanks." Now I really couldn't tell what she was getting at.

"Jessi, I wondered if you had ever thought of synchronized swimming," she said, looking much more serious.

I drew a blank. "Uh ..."

"You don't know what it is," Ms. Cox said with a laugh. "That's all right. Most girls don't at first. You see, I run a program in synchronized swimming here at the pool complex. Basically it's a team of girls, all ages, and we

perform routines in the water — sort of like dance routines. I'm always looking for strong swimmers, but most importantly, I need girls with good form. I could use someone with your ballet background."

I looked from Ms. Walden to Ms. Cox. I felt an incredible rush of relief. "Um, well, it sounds like fun," I said. "When are the practices?"

"Fourth period," Ms. Cox replied. "The one right before this."