"Are you really only sixteen?" Antonio's voice held disbelief. They were walking across the courtyard on their way to the pool before Antonio's swim practice.

"Yes, why? Is that a problem?"

"No, not a problem," he replied, shaking his head as he smiled at her. "It's just, you're in the most advanced practice, you're already a junior, you certainly look older--" he gave her an admiring glance, "--I just never would've guessed, that's all."

"Well, I've been swimming since I was really little, I skipped a grade of school, and as far as the other, I guess I'm just mature, I don't know," Francie responded. She wished he hadn't mentioned the last part. She knew she was considered "pretty," she'd been called that all her life, and of course she knew about her appalling nickname, but she wished Antonio weren't so obviously enamored of her physical beauty. After all, it was just her outer shell, it had nothing to do with who she really was.

They'd arrived at the pool, and Francie turned to the tall boy. "Well, I guess I'll see you in a couple of hours. I'm going to hit the library and see if I can knock out my calculus homework," she told him.

"Oh?" He took her hands in his. "Or you could stay and watch me practice? Maybe tell me what I'm doing wrong? Explain how I can become as fast as you, so I can move up to your practice?" He smiled and tipped her a wink.

"You want me to stay and watch you practice?"

Antonio shrugged, a fluid, attractive gesture, as he rubbed her fingers with his own. "Why not? This is something girls do often in my country. Is it not done here?"

"What, watch guys practice?"

He nodded, looking up to smile a brief hello to someone who was passing by. He didn't release Francie's hands, however. "You know, if there's a fellow who likes a particular girl, or a girl who likes a special boy, she'll watch his sports practice, or they'll work on homework together, you know." He shrugged and released her hands finally.

"Sure, I guess I could do that," Francie answered with a smile of her own, nodding for emphasis. "I can work on my calculus at the pool just as easily, can't I?"

"You mean you won't be watching me?" Antonio grabbed his heart in a gesture of pain as he smiled.

"I can do both," Francie acknowledged, nudging his shoulder with her own as they entered the building.

Antonio laughed as he entered the boys' locker room.

Francie walked over and sat next to Chester, who was in his usual place in the bleachers, laptop and note book open already.

"Can I borrow a corner of your desk for my math book?" Francie asked.

"Sure, if you let me watch what you're doing so I can do my own homework faster later," Chester answered cheerfully.

"Done."

Francie was already engrossed in her homework when a bunch of voices made her lookup.

Antonio was walking on the pool deck with his friends. He made a V with his second and third finger, pointed at her, then at himself, while smiling, eyebrow cocked.

Look at me. Watch me, please.

Francie gave him a mock salute.

Yes, sir.

"You guys a thing?" asked Chester, who'd watched the whole exchange.

"No, we're just good friends," Francie answered, smiling in Antonio's direction.

"He doesn't look like he thinks you're just friends," Chester answered.

"Hm? What do you mean?" Francie blinked at him, frowning.

Chester shrugged his thin shoulders. "Just what I said. There's a way that guys look at girls who are just their friends, and there's a way they look at girls who are more, and you're definitely getting the other look."

By now Francie was staring at Chester, her calculus forgotten.

"There's a way they look at girls who they wish were more, how's that, then?" Chester backtracked.

"I guess that's better," Francie said, mollified, turning back to her calculus.

Coach walked on deck and called a greeting, to which the assembled swimmers responded, "Afternoon, Coach!" Then they hit the water for warm ups, looking like cogs in a well-oiled machine.

"Why are you here, then?" Chester asked after he'd taken attendance.

"I told Tony I'd watch him swim today."

Silence.

"No, not because--not like that!" Francie was becoming flustered, because wasn't it like that? That was pretty much what he'd said, wasn't it?

Chester nudged Francie's shoulder and grinned at her when she turned to look at him.

"What's it like, then? Hm?" He pressed. "Girls have been staying after school to watch boys practice their various sports since time immemorial, and it's always been for only one reason. But your reason is different, is it?"

By now Francie was turning interesting shades of red, and Chester felt bad.

"Okay, okay, Francie, I'm sorry," he apologized. "Work on your calculus, I'll leave you alone.

"Thank you," she managed.

Antonio stopped on the wall between sets and waved over at Francie, who smiled and waved back.

Francie watched Chester adjust the wheelchair he was sitting in so he could reach behind his laptop for his water bottle.

Francie glanced down at the wheelchair Chester was sitting in. "You know, I only ever see you in that out here at the pool," she said. "Usually you just walk around."

Chester looked at Francie, pale eyes magnified by his glasses. "Come on now, I never 'just walk around,' Francie. Stagger is more like it, and you know it." He laughed self-deprecatingly.

"Chester Wozniak!" Francie was horrified by the turn the conversation had taken.

"It's okay, I know how I look when I walk," he reassured her. "For a long time I couldn't walk at all, it took a lot of physical therapy. But out here? The pool deck can get so slippery that when I started keeping the statistics for the swim team, everyone decided that the wheelchair was the safest way for me to get around, that's all." He shrugged. "No big deal."

Francie nodded.

"Hey, have you thought any more about what movie you want to do for our book report?" Francie asked suddenly, making Chester smile at how quickly she changed the subject.

He shook his head. "I really like the teacher's idea of writing a book report on a movie, though, it's really a fun and interesting concept."

Francie nodded. "I heard she was a fun teacher, and I'm really glad I got her this year. As far as the movie, we still have another week to figure it out, I don't think it's a big deal, you know?"

Francie noticed as she sat next to Chester that he smelled really nice, like some kind of soap. Most of the guys she spent time with used cologne or aftershave by now, and Antonio smelled very expensive. Chester just smelled clean, like freshly washed clothes. It was a very homey smell, very wholesome, and it made Francie want to lean into him and take deep whiff. She wondered if they had a housekeeper who did their wash, or if his mother and father did their laundry, or if he did it himself, like Francie and Clio did? She surreptitiously leaned closer for another deep sniff.

OMG, what in the world was she doing? Francesca Dahlia, you must be going crazy.

But surely with his crutches and everything to manage, it would be very difficult to stand in front of a washing machine and mess around with the knobs and buttons and sorting the clothes and all that?

Okay, Francie, stop.

She shook her blonde curls to clear her head and bent to her calculus once more, laughing at herself. After a few more minutes, however, she shut her book, shoving it back into her backpack and sitting back  on the bleacher.

"You're finished already?" Chester asked in surprise. "There's over half an hour of practice left, and Ogilvie gave us thirty problems for homework!"

Francie shook her head. "No, but I like to have something to do during homework time after dinner with my little brother and sisters while I help them with theirs," she explained. "Makes us feel closer, you know?"

"You have younger siblings?" Chester smiled, running a hand through his dark hair. "I knew about Clio, because I remember her being here before she went off to Hamilton, but I didn't know there were younger ones."

Francie nodded. "They go here too." She pulled out her phone and showed him pictures. "That's Lottie, the redhead's Brina, and this boy here is Finn."

"Hey, Finn kinda looks like Antonio, anyone ever tell you that?"

"No." Francie abruptly put her phone away and waved to Antonio, who was up on the blocks, lithe, buff body on full display.

Veronica had told her that Antonio looked her dad, and it had made her feel very uncomfortable, and she didn't need Chester reminding her of that, thank you very fucking much.

"I used to swim, did you know that?" Chester told her, adroitly changing the subject. He could see that his remark about Finn resembling Antonio hadn't gone over very well.

"What? You did?" Francie turned to look at Chester, who nodded.

"Before all this happened." He gestured down at his body. "I really loved it. I can still remember how great it felt to slice through the water, to really pull it? I was a back stroker," he finished.

Francie nodded. "Makes sense, with your body type," she said. "Must be hard to watch this every day," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Chester shrugged. "Sometimes, I guess," he said finally. "When I was little, it used to bother me more, but not so much anymore. Would I love to be able to swim like I used to? Sure I would." He smiled wistfully, showing shallow dimples which Francie hadn't noticed before. "But who I am has remained pretty much unchanged, except that now I think more about who other people are, if you know what I mean." He looked at Francie. "This is coming out all convoluted and wrong," he said, smiling with embarrassment. "What I mean to say is that my illness kept most of me quintessentially the same, except for a couple of parts, which it made deeper, a couple of good parts which were improved, I think, I hope."

He sat back. "Does that make any sense?"

Francie nodded. "I get it. Like an improved sense of smell, or hearing."

Chester smiled, the dimple deepening. "Exactly, Francesca! Exactly."

The team had moved on to the next set without his noticing.

"Whoops," Chester said. "Gimme a sec, gotta write some shit down." And he typed for a few minutes, noting who had made which of their sets, who needed work, and what corrections coach had made.

"I think we're going to have a good team this year, lots of you are going to make County and Sections, probably," Chester continued with confidence. "You're probably really close already, they just haven't put out this year's times yet."

"You think so?" Francie was pleased. "Even though though we just started?"

Chester smiled, nodding. "Your butterfly, and therefore your IM, look amazing."

Francie noticed that behind his glasses, his eyes were a very pale gray, almost colorless, with very dense lashes that were nearly black, a few shades darker than his wavy, dark hair. "You notice everything," she finally said, smiling back.

"It's my job," he said, looking away from her and gesturing to his laptop and notebook.

"Okay, 1500 warm down and then out," Coach called. "Next group, be ready to get in, please, and no lagging."

"Oops, that's me," Francie said, grabbing her stuff and getting up. "Better go and get ready."

"See you tomorrow, Santangelo."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, Chester."