Prologue

“Take your mark.”

Staring out at the reflection of the red and blue checkered flags on the calm, glassy water in my lane, the only thing that raced through my mind was the image of acquiring an Olympic gold medal. I didn’t care about beating Paulina Petrovich, my arch nemesis and swimming rival, who was standing up on the starting block two lanes over. I also had no ounce of sympathy in the world for my father, who apparently was too busy to make it to the biggest night in my swimming career, thus far.

The pool area became silent and I bent over and dangled my fingers over the starting block. I focused on the long term goal. Nothing mattered at that very moment but finishing this race. 200 meters. That’s all I have standing before me and the end of my season, the beginning of my Olympic training.

I dove in when the buzzer went off. The cool water refreshed my skin under the surface of the pool. My thoughts raced to the finish line, and the adrenaline kicked in, as it usually does. I hit the first wall, flipped around and pushed off. The butterfly stroke is one of the most difficult strokes in swimming, and it took me a while to get the hang of it, but I totally mastered it. It’s one of my best strokes!

I reached over my head again with every stroke, taking my time, breathing for air every two or three strokes. I looked over at Paulina but I didn’t see her. I couldn’t see anyone! Was I in first place?

My heart pounded through my chest and I pushed on. The swimmer in the lane next to me appeared out of nowhere as I hit the wall again and turned around. One hundred more meters and I’m done. Paulina was coming up fast and I had to finish this. My arms felt like weights when I got close to the halfway mark of that last fifty meters. I stretched my arms a few more times and reached so far I felt something pop in my upper body.

I screamed in agony and grabbed my left shoulder as I reached for the lane rope.

No! I can’t do it!

Disqualification was not an option. I have to force myself to finish this, once and for all. The other swimmers were still behind me and I made a quick decision and pushed through the pain. My hands finally touched the wall and I gasped for air. Pulling myself up onto the side of the pool I gasped for air and looked around for my boyfriend, Nick. I didn’t care what my time was, or that my shoulder agonized in pain. I just wanted Nick.

I struggled to stand up, and I grabbed my towel to wrap it around me. When I turned around, I was bombarded with my fellow team members congratulating me on my win. I saw my best friends Amelia and Katy frantically waving their arms behind the group as they made their way up to me. “Did you look at your time?” Katy exclaimed.

“Yeah, Bella, you beat your time by, like, eight seconds!” Amelia said.

“What?” I asked. By this time, my shoulder was burning. I have heard other swimmers who have had injuries cannot compete for nationals, but I wasn’t sure if that was true. I reached over and gripped my arm with my hand. “Where’s Nick?”

“Nick’s back in the shower area. Do you want me to… what’s wrong, Bella?”

I winced and collapsed onto Katy. “I think… It’s my shoulder.” We walked over to the bench behind the diving board and I sat down, my arm tingling.

Amelia left to get my mom and Katy sat with me. One of the coaches finally walked up and started talking to me, but I felt so dizzy I couldn’t stand straight and needed to sit down. My blood started rushing toward my head and I started seeing stars, and not the ones that were on the wall

Then, everything went black.

I remember being in an ambulance. I remember lying down on a cold table getting ex rays and then being admitted to the hospital overnight. I don’t remember anything after that. My parents told me the doctors gave me morphine for pain and I was a little out of it for the next few days. My shoulder was in so much pain. I tore my left rotator cuff and had to have surgery immediately because the tear was so large.

After that experience, I never wanted to swim again.