Chapter Text
Summer was coming to an end. Caitlyn could feel the subtle chill of the fall in the mornings, when the sun was just starting to come up. Each day she got into the outdoor pool at the Kiramman estate a little bit later, putting off her warm-up until the air had a chance to warm up a bit, too.
Her mother, however, was much more inclined to keep a schedule.
“Caitlyn, it’s nearly six thirty!” Her voice echoed up the stairs, still crystal clear despite Caitlyn’s bedroom door being closed. One of the skills her mother had developed after years as a swim coach.
“Coming, mom,” Caitlyn yelled back. Truthfully, she’d been ready for half an hour. She was just disinclined to swim before the sun was fully above the horizon. She pulled the tie on her swim coverup a bit tighter and headed down.
It was looking like another beautiful August morning, the pink dawn sky slowly giving way to blue behind the occasional cloud. The wind was still, and the pool was like glass as Caitlyn entered the yard. Her mother stood alone at the close end, fully dressed and hair done, as usual. She turned to her daughter with crossed arms.
“Come on, Cait. I’ve got a meeting at eight.”
Caitlyn hurried to the edge of the pool, pulling a swim cap on and removing her coverup. She shivered as her legs slipped into the water.
“Where’s Jayce?” Caitlyn asked. Normally her neighbor was here and halfway done with his set by now, chronic early riser that he was.
“Not sure. Get in and get started. Quick 500 yard warmup.”
“Alright.” Caitlyn slipped fully into the water, hurrying to submerge herself before she had time to fully process the chill. She kicked off the bottom, beginning the front crawl.
Five hundred yards – down and back the 25-yard pool ten times – went quicker these days than it did when Caitlyn was a kid. Cassandra Kiramman, the head swim coach for Piltover High, had instilled a love of swimming in her daughter from a young age, and taught both Caitlyn and Jayce how to swim in the sweltering days of summers past. Jayce had started swimming competitively in seventh grade, and Caitlyn had done the same when she reached seventh grade the following year. What began as summer fun soon led to Jayce being an all-state swimmer, and Caitlyn… well, doing her best not to be too jealous that she’d been upstaged as her mother’s favorite. It wasn’t Jayce’s fault he was naturally built for the sport.
Caitlyn finished her warmup, pausing to take a drink of water at the end of the pool, and spotted her mother pacing, speaking with someone on the phone.
“He what?!” Cassandra put a hand to her temples. “How bad is it?… uh-huh. Uh-huh. Well, that’s good at least. I know someone who may actually be able to work with him once he’s ready to get back into it, I’ll check in. …no, no, Ximena, of course we’ll cover it, it’s his senior year. I bet we can still get him to nationals. …of course. Alright. Take care.”
Her mother hung up the phone with a sigh, and Caitlyn’s stomach flipped. “Jayce?”
A nod. “He tore his ACL.”
Caitlyn couldn’t repress a small gasp. “How?”
“Apparently he ‘just landed on it wrong’.” Her mother said with a disbelieving shrug of her hands. “He won’t be able to swim for quite a while.”
“Will he be better in time for the boys' season?” The boys’ season followed the girls’ season, starting just three short months after in late November.
“That depends how bad it is. They’re still figuring it out.” Caitlyn watched her mother walk a single tight, frustrated circle, running a hand over her face. “...you know what, Cait, swim whatever you like this morning, just focus on your front crawl. I’ve got to make some more calls.”
“Oh– okay,” Caitlyn nodded. “Do Jayce or Ximena need anything? I could stop by today.”
Cassandra shrugged. “She didn’t say. I’m sure they would appreciate the offer.”
“Alright, I'll check in.”
Caitlyn watched her mother go, waiting until she was out of sight before pushing off the wall on her back. She floated there, watching the fluffy white clouds pass overhead, and let out a long breath. She seldom had time to enjoy the morning sky this early, usually only seeing it through the spray of the water when she swam backstroke.
And if she was going to be dealing with an injured Jayce -- a guy who devolved into a toddler when he got sick -- she knew she might need this bit of solitude to make it through the day.
After a few minutes, she returned to the pool wall, climbing out and toweling off. She grabbed her phone from the pocket of her coverup and typed out a message.
Jayce. What did you do? Do you need anything?
After a few moments, the reply came in:
some ice thx
maybr somw chips too
Caitlyn rolled her eyes and tucked the phone away. Clearly she’d have to interrogate in person.
—
The Talises lived in one of the smaller houses in the Kirammans’ neighborhood, a split-level house built a good fifty years later than the ones next to it. As a child, Caitlyn had never wondered how a family of such simple means managed to move to the upscale area. As she got older, though, she started picking up clues – Ximena’s prosthetic fingers, the way she got silent whenever her old job came up, the ‘accident’ Jayce had mentioned once and provided absolutely no details about. Regardless of whatever tragedy had brought them there, Caitlyn was grateful to have grown up with them.
Their house was the antithesis of the Kiramman house, both inside and out. The gardens grew in a balanced sort of chaos, tended whenever Jayce or Ximena had the time, not the carefully pruned and cultivated thing Caitlyn was used to. That sort of loving mess flowed through the house as well: kitsch, blankets, artworks, the occasional forgotten dish. Caitlyn always loved that she could let her guard down there.
She came to the door with two bags of ice and one of potato chips, freshly procured from the nearest gas station, and set them down to ring the doorbell. Ximena was there in moments.
“Caitlyn!” she beamed, smile faltering when she saw the bags. “Thank you for stopping by. Is that ice?”
“Jayce said to bring some,” Caitlyn explained.
“Oh… I just got some. He must have forgotten.” Ximena brought a hand to her mouth in thought. “I think we can try to fit it in the chest freezer, though. No need to go to waste.”
“Forgotten?” Caitlyn frowned.
“I’m afraid the pain medication isn’t agreeing with him,” Ximena whispered with a sigh. “Take everything he says with a grain of salt.”
“Ah.” Caitlyn nodded in understanding.
“Well, come on in, let’s get that ice out of the heat.”
Ximena opened the door and Caitlyn shuffled in.
“Just set those down at the top of the basement stairs, and I’ll take care of them. Jayce is in the living room.”
Caitlyn dropped off the bags of ice, taking the potato chips and making her way down the hall and up the short set of stairs to the living room. She rounded the corner to see Jayce lying boneless on the couch, one arm draped off the edge, his right leg elevated on a pillow and under a towel-wrapped bag of ice. He stared at the TV in a zombie-like trance.
“Hey,” Caitlyn waved, trying gently to draw his attention. He registered the new movement and looked sluggishly over at her.
“Cait!” Jayce’s face lit up, though he slurred his words slightly. “Hey, did… didja bring the ice?”
“I did. And these.” Caitlyn tossed the chips into Jayce’s lap and pulled an armchair over to sit down, as there would be no way to fit on the couch with Jayce sprawled out on it. “Your mother got ice, too.”
“Oh… oh yeah,” Jayce blinked, hands fumbling slightly as he tore the bag open. “Maybe that’s why I… thought about ice.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Caitlyn snorted. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m spinning.” Jayce said, turning back to the TV and crunching on a few chips. “So I gotta… gotta stay focused on other stuff. ‘Til it wears off.”
The sound of a man yelling drew Caitlyn’s attention to the TV as well. She caught the words “amnesia” and “long-lost brother”.
“...are you watching soap operas?” she asked, astonished.
“Yeah, they’re on all the time. This one’s crazy, and this guy….” Jayce raised his arm and pointed at the TV. “...this guy is a dick .”
With how wobbly Jayce was, Caitlyn was wholly unable to determine which of the three on-screen guys he was trying to indicate, so she just smiled and shook her head a little. “Is that so?”
“Oh yeah.”
“So. What did you do?” Caitlyn leaned forward, dropping her voice.
“Whatcha mean?”
“How’d you tear your ACL?”
“I landed wrong,” Jayce mumbled, very pointedly not looking away from the TV.
“Jayce, seriously. What did you do?”
Jayce sighed, flopping his head back on the arm of the couch dramatically. “I jumped a picket fence and I landed wrong!” he declared to the ceiling.
“Why were you jumping a picket fence?”
“‘Cause I could.”
“Well, apparently you couldn’t.”
“Yeah I could! I cleared it!” Jayce countered indignantly.
“So you just… jumped a fence. For no reason.” Caitlyn raised a brow.
“...Mel and I… may have been discussing the track team. An’ hurdles.”
“Ahh. And was she impressed?”
“Nope,” Jayce said, popping the ‘p’. “She had to bring me to the ‘mergency room.”
“Well, now she’s officially got the edge over you as best swim captain,” Caitlyn joked. “Maybe it was sabotage.”
“She wouldn’t!” Jayce gasped, raising his head to look at Caitlyn with a hilarious amount of genuine shock.
“Can’t have two captains both be all-state breaststrokers,” Caitlyn doubled down. “She had to take you out.”
“She’s not even all-state yet,” Jayce pouted.
“She will be, if my mom has anything to say about it.”
“Yeah, she will be.” Jayce conceded, returning his head to rest on the couch. “She deserves it. Good thing she took me out.”
Caitlyn laughed. “I’ll tell her that at practice.”
“When’s practice start?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Damn,” Jayce muttered. “Summer’s over that fast?”
“Yeah,” Caitlyn nodded. “Yeah, it is.”
—
When Caitlyn woke the following morning, it was not to practice in her backyard, but to make the drive to Piltover High School’s own aquatic facility. Not that she personally was driving, of course. After all, her mother had to be there too.
By the time the Kiramman Lexus pulled up, a few girls had gathered outside the door closest to the pool. Cassandra handed a keyring over to Caitlyn.
“Let everyone in while I unload the trunk, please.”
Caitlyn nodded, climbing out of the car and slinging her bag over her shoulder. The slam of the car door drew attention from the waiting swimmers.
“Good morning,” Caitlyn called over, hurrying to unlock the door. A few voices sleepily greeted her in reply. Caitlyn found the familiar silver key on the ring and twisted it in the lock, pulling the door open and holding it while everyone filed in. Caitlyn held the door a little wider when her mother approached with her arms full.
“I can hold that,” came a voice from behind Caitlyn, who nearly jumped. She turned to see Mel Medarda walk up to her, reaching a hand to take the door.
“Jeez, Mel. You startled me.”
Mel just smiled, lifting the weight of the door away from Caitlyn’s hand and taking her spot.
“I uh… I saw Jayce,” Caitlyn continued, “He said you were the one to take him to the ER?”
Mel’s expression grew solemn, and she nodded. “Yeah. How is he?”
“High on pain meds, as of yesterday. Binging the Young and the Restless.”
Mel snorted a laugh. “Well. That’s a surprise.”
“Did he actually tear his ACL jumping a fence?”
“Yeah,” Mel shook her head a little. “I mentioned I was thinking of doing hurdles on the track team in the spring, just for fun. I guess he took that as a challenge.”
Caitlyn scoffed. “He’s such a dumbass.”
“Making Piltover High look good, as always,” Mel chuckled. “Now get in there before your mom starts looking for you.”
“Thanks, Mel.”
Caitlyn got changed. The team was gathering at the end of the pool, where Cassandra was doing lane assignments. The assignments were done by speed: the fastest swimmers were placed at the center in lane 3, the next fastest in lane 4, then 2, 5, 1, and finally lane 6.
Caitlyn had been in lane 4 for the past two years. She was the team’s fastest backstroker, but her other strokes hadn’t been quite strong enough for the fastest lane. This year, though, her mother moved her up to lane 3.
“We need to build up our freestyle relays,” she said, “Your times are getting close. Focus hard on that this year.”
Caitlyn just nodded, putting her cap on and sliding into lane three. Her mother had been training her hard on the front crawl over the summer, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise. It wasn’t exactly a welcome one, though. It was tough enough to live up to her mother’s expectations just on the 100 yard backstroke – adding other races to her repertoire was extra pressure.
“Welcome to the fast lane, Cait,” Mel congratulated Caitlyn as she slipped into lane 3.
“I’ll try to keep up,” Caitlyn laughed nervously.
“You’ll do fine,” Mel reassured with a touch to her shoulder.
“I hope so,” Caitlyn mumbled under her breath.
—
Caitlyn did not do fine. She struggled, and it was humiliating.
Practice at home was one thing. Though she spent the entire practice under her mother's scrutiny there, she didn't have anyone but herself to. She could feel good about how she was doing against her own best times. At team practice, though, she was sharing the lane with half a dozen girls who all made her best times look inadequate.
The slowest in lane 3 is still better than the fastest in lane 4 , she reminded herself.
But it didn't feel any better.
Caitlyn generally tried not to wear herself out. Really, she did. But sometimes she had to swim somewhere she was truly just doing it for herself, regardless of how hard she’d swam that day already.
That's why she had the gym membership. To go use their pool without scrutiny or shame, without anyone judging, critiquing, or advising. Just to get in the water, lose herself in the feeling of floating and gliding, and remind herself why she liked the sport in the first place.
So, after morning practice and a quick lunch, she made her way downtown for a little time at the gym. She limited herself to an hour, focusing on turns and starts, careful to warm up and cool down properly to make sure her muscles wouldn’t be too sore the next day. When all was said and done, she didn’t feel better, exactly, but at least she wasn’t quite as upset as she’d been that morning.
Now she just had to go back home and hope her mother didn’t have too many pointers about her performance at the team practice. Great. She felt her mood souring again as she made her way out of the locker room and through the gym lobby.
“Kiramman?”
Caitlyn was pulled abruptly out of her funk at the sound of her surname, turning to see a girl standing next to her looking at said name on her swim bag. The stranger was shorter than her, but not by much – probably just two or three inches – with aggressively pink hair and… really, really nice arms.
“Uh, yeah. Caitlyn Kiramman.” She flushed a little, tucking her dark hair behind her ear and trying not to think too hard about how much she was focusing on those arms.
“No shit.” The girl grinned. “Didn’t know you worked out here.”
“Uh, yes. Do I know you?”
“Violet Anderson.” The girl extended a hand. “Call me Vi.”
Holy shit, Vi Anderson. This was the girl she’d been racing in the backstroke for the last three years. Her rival was this girl. This girl with amazing arms and a killer smile and wow her eyes were brilliant. She hurried to reach out and shake her hand before she spaced out completely.
“You know, your starts are a little weak,” the girl commented bluntly.
“ Excuse me?” Caitlyn was a little embarrassed by how loudly she responded, but at least she wasn’t zoning out like an idiot any more.
Vi raised her hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying. You have to work twice as hard in water as in the air, and you’re not really getting a lot of height coming off the blocks.”
Caitlyn crossed her arms. “Oh really. And you’ve just been holding that in since last season?”
“I… may have seen you practicing down there earlier,” Vi admitted, tilting her head toward the windows overlooking the pool. “Just… happened to be looking while I was lifting. You kind of stand out.”
“Uh-huh.” Caitlyn wasn’t buying it, but she also wasn’t going to entertain what it could mean if Vi wasn’t looking by chance.
“Vi!” The pink-haired girl turned, and Caitlyn looked past her to see a girl with long blue braids leaning through the door out into the parking lot. “Come on already!”
“Yeah, coming, Pow-Pow.” Vi turned back to Caitlyn, shrugging and giving a wave in parting. “Well… anyway. Nice to finally meet you. Looking forward to beating you this year.”
“I–” Caitlyn struggled to find a retort, ultimately settling on: “You wish !”
Vi laughed, leaving Caitlyn alone and fuming in the lobby. She took a deep breath.
She was so going to destroy her this year.