Chapter 1. Olympic Swimming Pool

There seemed to be one problem in the swimming pool.

Allison Yin was not turning her head towards the direction of the high dive.

Jason held perfectly still, his legs bent painfully, his skinny arms posed for a dive off the board. Fifteen feet below, children laughed and splashed each other, passing brightly--colored balls back and forth. Outside, the sun threw golden shadows over the chlorine--colored water, gently teasing the cyan waves.

Jason did not take in any of the details, did not register anything but the fact that Allison was still not turning her head towards him.

The rough plastic of the board scraped against his sore feet. The triple knot securing his red size fifteen boxer shorts felt heavy against his waist as he turned his head slightly towards the right, towards the rubber sidewalk. Allison was swishing her feet in the pool water, her toes barely skimming over the surface. She had a bored look plastered on her face, yet she sat as erect and as tense as ever. Her hair was roughly cut down to her shoulders, her large eyes a deep brown. In other words, Allison was cute. Jason had met her over two years ago, after they had been in the same science class (where he had obviously attracted her attention by blowing up two vials), but she had never failed to catch his attention.

Oh geez, Jason thought, resisting the urge to jump up and down and wave to Allison. Turn your head just a bit to the left. Then tilt it slightly upwards.

The clock ticked menacingly, its hands turning much too quickly. It seemed like everything in the pool was working against him: the time, Allison's gaze...

Jason's eyes dropped to the board, then to his left. Streams of boys and girls were flooding both in and out, past the chaperones seated on the wooden benches. Kids yelled and hit each other over the head with swimming noodles, throwing those foam board thingies at each other the way they would throw a ball. He wrinkled his nose, then blinked at the clock on the far end of the swimming pool.

Eleven more minutes until they had to go.

Jason started to feel itchy. He considered scratching so that Allison would notice him. Then he decided not. Allison would undoubtedly notice him sooner or later. It was just a matter of time. Time, which he definitely did not have on his side.

Jason's attention strayed towards the girl's bathroom just in time to see a girl in a tight swimming dress decorated with silver guitars strolling out of the locker room. She had a pair of plastic binoculars in her left hand, and, as Jason watched, she wrestled a foam water gun from one of the kids in the pool.

As if Jason's day wasn't already terrible. It was Rachel, his older sister and tormentor.

Rachel gingerly walked around the sidewalk, refusing to touch the water. She glanced at the squirt gun, wrinkled her nose, and tossed it back into the water, where it promptly hit a kid on the head and let loose a squirt of water. Ignoring the squeals of protest, Rachel made her way to Allison, who leaned back and glared at her.

Rachel, compared to Allison, looked like a pig. Rachel, compared to anyone, looked like a pig which had been run through by a tractor. She had thin black hair, which Jason had never seen washed. Her two brown eyes, sadly the same hue as Jason's, were beady and too close together. Her mouth and nose seemed to have fused together, making her look like one of those blue--butt monkeys from the TV shows. Her personality reflected her appearance. To make a long story short, Rachel was not someone you would really want as a friend.

Jason couldn't hear Rachel from such a distance, but he could imagine what his older sister was telling Allison. Oh, Jason is a big disappointment. Oh, Jason is so stupid. You don't want Jason marrying you.

With Rachel on that side of the equation and time on the other side, Jason knew that his chance to impress Allison was in great peril. He gritted his teeth, hoping that Allison would finally turn her head his way.

Rachel said something, swished her hips in a somewhat dumb way, and pointed towards the high dive.

Of all the ironies in the world, this one had been the best. Rachel, destroyer of his already destroyed life, had pointed to him on the high dive.

Allison's eyes widened with disbelief. Jason waved, grinned feebly, displayed what biceps he had, and turned to jump.

Allison groaned and turned away in disgust, but Jason was already jumping. Oops.

Before he knew what he was doing, Jason was yelling. "Allison! Don't look away! I'm over here!"

Allison turned back in disbelief just before Jason felt a jerk in his legs, and then another, and then...

He was flying.

Or, rather, not flying. Dangling from the support beams of the high dive.

By his overlarge boxer shorts.

"Waaghh!"

Jason windmilled his arms, tipped dangerously sideways, and nearly fell out of his shorts.

Everyone in the pool turned to look at the figure dangling from the high dive.

Jason glanced up, his blood rushing to his head. Another glance told him that his triple knot which was supposed to keep the shorts on him had bound him to the support beams jutting about half a centimeter from the plastic of the board.

In other words, if he moved one little inch, he would fall--upside down--into the pool...fifteen feet below.

So he had sort of gotten himself into a situation.

Jason waved his arms. "Someone!" He yelled. "Someone just get up here and pull me up!"

Someone whistled from below, and all one--hundred--fifty students laughed.

Jason gritted his teeth. Maybe he should be a comedian now, play it cool. Yeah, he should. Jason wiggled around, waved his arms, and shouted, "Hey, everyone!"

He nearly fell out of his shorts.

Everybody howled. The teachers and chaperones were watching him with lively interest, snickering. Rachel had disappeared, thankfully. But Allison? Oh...god. Allison was watching him. In fact, everybody was watching him.

Jason could see the knot almost at the end of the metal rod. He could feel himself slipping slowly down the support. "Some help!" He yelled. "Come on!"

"Kid!" Came a burly voice. "Hold on!"

Jason felt like an angel had come down and was about to save him...until he saw the hairy, beefy, two--hundred pound lifeguard start up the ladder.

"Oh, god, no!" Jason yelled. "Get down! Everybody would see me!"

The lifeguard grinned at him, pulling himself onto the diving board.

"Yeah!" The man yelled. He jumped up and down on the board, making the plastic wobble dangerously. Jason was almost at the end of the beam.

"Dude! Come down here and help!"

"Alright, kid!"

The lifeguard, apparently not bothered by the fact that Jason was about to fall upside--down into a pool fifteen feet below, strolled slowly down the board, his footsteps thumping in Jason's ears. The lifeguard stopped inches away from the end.

"Who wants to see me jump down and pull him with me?!" The lifeguard yelled towards the kids.

The kids, in response, cheered wildly. "Yeah!" Someone yelled. "Pull him down!"

"Oh, geez!" Jason shouted. "Just get me back up! Don't pull me down!"

Allison was shaking her head in disbelief, while one hundred fifty juvenile delinquents poured out of the water to get a better view.

"Pull him down! Pull him down!"

The chant became universal. Even the chaperones pulled their cell phones out of their pockets, trying to get a better view.

"Pull him down! Pull him down!"

The lifeguard gave a thumps-up and started a demented Irish jig.

The board was now bouncing up and down violently, shaking Jason to the end of the beam. "Stop it!" Jason screamed, revising downward his opinion of the lifeguard's sanity. "Stop it!"

The shaking of the board stopped, and Jason sighed with relief.

Then he saw the hairy, beefy, two--hundred pound shape of the insane lifeguard hurtle past him and grab his right arm.

"ARGGGGGGGHHHH!"

Jason felt like his arm was about to be yanked out of its socket. The lifeguard bellowed in triumph, his breath stinking up Jason's nose.

"YEAH!" The lifeguard yelled. "YEAH!"

Jason, a scrawny eighty-five pound kid, was not able to keep a two--hundred--pound lifeguard on his arm.

The lifeguard, too, apparently figured that out.

"C'mon, son!" He yelled. "Get yourself off! I've got you!"

"No, you do not!" Jason screamed. "Let go of me!"

The lifeguard was now clinging onto Jason's arm with both of his hands. "Son, it's alright! Now come down here!"

"Oh, geez--"

Then the lifeguard slipped. "WHOAAH!"

Jason could feel the droplets of water even from fifteen feet up. His right arm was numb, he was totally mortified, and, worst of all, he was still stuck onto the board.

If he ever got down, he would probably make YouTube. And get three billion hits.

Rachel had reappeared by Allison. She wrinkled her nose (that seemed to be her only reaction) at the lifeguard (who was crawling out of the pool to a standing ovation), and tapped him on his hairy shoulder.

"Ump," the lifeguard grunted. He turned towards Rachel.

Rachel pointed towards the boy's locker room, then talked to the lifeguard, who shook his head. Rachel raised her eyebrow. The lifeguard grunted, flustered, and then headed into the locker.

A few moments later, the lifeguard reappeared with a pair of silver fabric scissors.

"Oh, guys, no!" Jason yelled, doubting whether they could hear him. "Come on!"

Rachel smiled unflatteringly at the lifeguard, and started to climb the ladder.

By now, Jason was panicking. Anything was better than this. Anything, even if the lifeguard would have to play monkey--bars with his arm again.

Rachel pulled herself up onto the board, and stood up, smiling at the crowd, a lioness in no hurry to kill her helpless prey. She picked up the scissors, snapped the blades together two times, and made her way across the diving board.

The kids in the swimming pool drew in a breath as one. Rachel, unable to contain her grin, knelt down.

"Stop!" Jason shouted. "Rachel, come on!"

Rachel parted the blades and started snipping at the knot. Jason felt a jerk on his waist, where the knot should be, and then saw the diving board leave his view.

His last sight before landing in the water were his boxer shorts, floating gently down on his right, a silken scarf drawn down to earth.

Weren't they supposed to be on him?

Rachel's laughter exploded in his ears as he sank into the water.

A stream of bubbles came from Jason's mouth, and he saw, panic taking over his body, the surface ten feet above. He kicked and thrashed, a stream of bubbles from his feet, the chlorine stinging his eyes.

He broke the surface, gasping for breath.

A familiar weight was missing on his waist. He plunged his head under the surface of the water. 

Oh, darn.

Then he glanced towards his right.

A pair of boxer shorts, brick red, floated calmly in the water, undisturbed in any way.

His boxer shorts.