Tuesday 16 August

I dress carefully, hair combed, tights straight. I don’t have to fake a contrite expression. Last night Jinx was trying to brainstorm excuses for me: ‘Say you had temporary insanity, you slipped in the change room and hit your head’. But we both know it’s hopeless. When I open my door there’s a package for me in the hallway. It’s a CD with a note from Kate. She’s written: Music helps. A CD? How old school is Kate? No time to listen to it now. I shove it in my bag and make my way to Gaffney’s office for my big dressing down. The office lady lets me in. It’s Gaffney and Beaz and they’ve brought Malik in as well.

Gaffa says, ‘Clementine. Sit please.’

I sit. The old pleather chair farts and I dare to smile, but only Malik smiles back. The fact that Beaz doesn’t almost breaks my heart. Gaffa goes straight in. ‘Clementine, we need to talk about your attitude. Ms Beazley tells me you’ve missed quite a bit of practice this term. And after Sunday’s debacle I’m afraid you leave us no alternative but to act.’

‘Maggie Cho is replacing you on the relay team,’ Beaz says. ‘And you can’t come to Canberra.’ She’s looking at me like I’m supposed to say something, so I say, ‘Yes,’ and look down. Beaz is in her civvies and it just looks wrong – like an alien trying to join the human race. She’s even wearing lipstick.

‘You had a setback. No one expected you to jump straight back in. But, Clem, enough. I’m supposed to be your coach, not your babysitter. Something’s going on with you. I think it would help if you told us what it is.’

Malik has a turn. ‘Clem?’

I feel sick. The porridge I ate for breakfast sits high in my throat.

‘We’ll need to inform your parents,’ Gaffa adds.

Malik clears his throat. ‘Maura, if I may – perhaps Clem should have the opportunity to talk to her parents about this first.’ He looks at me. ‘Take a couple of days, if you need to.’

‘Yes,’ Gaffa says. ‘That will be satisfactory.’

I can’t face class. Jinx and Lainie will be at me, wanting to know what’s gone down, so I go to the old pool. It’s full of rubbish from the fair – with all that crap and the leaves you can hardly see the bottom. I lean on my tree and think about how disappointed Mum and Dad are going to be, and how they’ll know I’ve been lying to them. At least we’ll have a screen between us. I can turn the camera off, that way I won’t be able to see their faces slide. I feel a bit lost – which is unexpected – I thought I didn’t care about swimming anymore, but now that Canberra’s not happening I know it’s really over. No more Swim Clem, at least, not like I was. Now the future is just like a white blur of skywriting that time has made unreadable.

Just as I’m wishing I had someone to commiserate with, my phone vibrates in my pocket. A photo from Stu. His face with a thought bubble drawn on. Thinkin’ of you. I pause – he’s sent me this photo before. Is it a bad sign that he’s already recycling his photos? But he looks so cute, it’s enough to carry me through the rest of the day.