Diving into our Dreams [Andrew]

It was that time of the day again. Even though he had no obligation to at this hour, Andrew liked to practice his swimming every morning so he could stay on top of his game. The way he saw it, he could either keep training to remain the top contender in his swimming team, or he could slack off and fall out of said position. And in his eyes, what was the point of becoming your team's top athlete if you're not going to keep that title? Plus, his dad kinda forced him to practice swimming everyday anyway, so... he was killing two birds with one stone, the way he saw it.

After quickly stepping out of his normal clothes and into his swimsuit in the locker room, Andrew happily ran through the pool's outer border, heading for the beginning of the track. He carried with him a waterproof digital chronometer. The pool itself was exactly 50 yards long, and Andrew's fastest record was 50.7 seconds in a 100-yard total (from start to end and back) freestyle swim, which he had accomplished a few months ago... but had had no luck beating. Andrew wasn't going to give up though; he just had to try harder.

He was all set to swim; now all he needed was somebody to time him. He would normally ask the coach or pool security people, but neither were around today, it seemed. He could time himself, but honestly that would just hinder his speed. Eventually, however, his eyes found a girl sitting at the edge of the pool, swinging her feet underneath the water. Remembering that he had to get used to the water's temperature before swimming properly, Andrew swam over to her instead of simply walking over.

Andrew simply tilted his head at the girl’s question. “Hm? Oh, me dad’s at home. Why d’y’ask?” He’d conveniently leave out his mother from his answer; he didn’t really like to talk about her a lot. Well, he didn’t really like to talk about his father either, but his mother was a completely different and much more sensitive subject. He would notice that the girl was a bit at a loss on how to use the chronometer. “Oh, y’just push the square black button on top when I start, ‘n ya push it again when I come back!” He would explain in a friendly tone. It was always a little bit hard to get the chronometer and his swimming start synchronized, but it wasn’t impossible or even hard enough to warrant frustration; it usually took two to three tries, no more than four.

Having gotten used to the water’s temperature at this point, Andrew was about ready to begin. He climbed out of the pool, did a few quick stretches and climbed onto the center podium at the start line, ready to start at a moment’s notice. “Let me know when y’er gonna push the button!” He would request  over from the start line.

Excitedly, Andrew would lower his swimming goggles over his face and get into position. He waited for a few seconds, making sure the girl was paying attention so they could get a clean synchronization going. After roughly ten or so seconds, Andrew would holler the moment his feet left the start line. "Now!" Andrew leapt from the podium in angle paralel to the water before arching down at a 45 degree angle against the surface, making a splash before going underwater.


As Andrew swam forward, his hands would be clasped together directly in front of him, and his feet would be perfectly aligned against each other, moving up and down in a wave-like motion similar to a dolphin's flipper that propelled him forward better than any arm-based swimming techniques he had learned. Though of course Andrew wouldn't be able to measure exactly how fast he was swimming, if all was going well he should've been swimming at roughly two yards per second. His head would ocasionally peek out of the water for air, making sure that his body got all the oxygen it needed to swim so strenously. Once Andrew neared the edge of the pool, he flipped underwater and turned. A second later, when Andrew reached the edge of the pool, his legs would retract against the wall and he would kick away, giving him a very slight boost that would save him a second or two.

less than half a minute later, Andrew would raise his hand from the water as he reached the starting line again, letting the girl know to stop the timer. Surfacing one final time, Andrew breathed to his heart's content as he raised his swimming goggles. He looked up at the girl again. "Thanks! How'd I do?"

At the sudden influx of praise, Andrew would blush slightly and lower his swimming cap over his face in an attempt to hide it. Soon after, however, he found it more bothersome than it was useful for hiding his face, so he put it back where it belonged. “T-Thanks! I’m in th’ school’s children swimmin’ team, if tha’ss what ye meant. M’instructor says I should be competin’ with the high school swimmers, but… I’m too scared. They all gotta be miles better than me, like.” Andrew would climb out from the pool and walk over to the chronometer and pick it up before seeing the display completely blank. Suddenly, the careless joy on his face was kicked out and replaced by sad disappointment

“…nine, actually…” He was pretty sad that his time hadn’t been measured, especially since he was pretty sure he’d taken less time than his last attempt, but that didn’t mean he could just throw his manners aside. That being said though, he could tell that the girl was doing her best to not make him sad, and honestly… it was kinda starting to work. He giggled quietly; this girl’s laughter was contagious, if nothing else. “Hehe, thanks for th’nice words, I guess.” He took off his swimming cap and goggles and extended his hand towards the girl. “’M Andrew! What’s yer name?”

“Immigrant?” Andrew couldn’t help but tilt his head again. He’d heard that word before, but he’d never really understood what it meant. “Oh! Yeh, I’m from Ireland!” He’d always taken pride in being able to say that he was from a different country, though it was never really made clear to him how Ireland had fared after the Great Divide or after his family fled into Endymion. He was undoubtedly proud of his nationality; however it was pretty frustrating and embarrassing when people accused him of being stereotypical due to his accent. He didn’t even fully know what that word meant either, but he understood the general gist; they were making fun of him for being “too” Irish. Brit didn’t seem to mind though, so he was definitely happy about that.

It was then that Andrew noticed what it was that he had felt peculiar about the girl: She was wearing a swimsuit and had even clipped up her hair, yet she wasn’t going into the pool. Even now she seemed to be content to just sit at the edge. “Um, Brit, right?” Andrew asked, making sure he didn’t get her name wrong. “How come yer’ not goin’ in the water? ‘S it too cold?”

“Hm?” She seemed to get the idea that he was new to Endymion. He couldn’t fault her for it, he guessed. “Oh, I’ve actually lived here a long time. I… don’t remember much ‘bout Ireland, me family moved here after th’divide…” Now that was an uncomfortable subject. Andrew was quick to shake his head and abandon topical ship. “A-Anyway…” Huh? She couldn’t swim? But it was so easy! He realized not everyone could swim as fast as he could, since he had training and talent, from what his trainers told him, but everyone should know how to swim at some speed, right? “Aw, tha’ss a problem! I could teach ya how to swim, if ye want!” Andrew let out a short but cute chuckle, genuinely happy at the idea of being able to teach someone how to swim. She was so pretty too! Andrew would’ve considered asking for tips on how to be as pretty as her in return for the swimming lessons, but he quickly swiped that thought away. Just act as a boy should, he repeated to himself. “Hm? Oh, ‘s not odd! When I want to think ‘nthere’s too many people around I just run off on my own, hehe~”