Glenn and Simon lost

Simon climbed back in for his second turn. Glenn offered him a quick, “Take it easy,” but it didn’t matter. Two strokes in and Simon was flailing again.

Lap six. Slow.

Lap seven. Slower.

By the time he tagged Glenn back in, they had slipped to second-last place.

Glenn didn’t even wait. He plunged into the pool with everything he had. Muscles burning, arms slicing through water, breath tight but focused. He just wanted to finish.

Lap eight.

Lap nine.

Lap ten.

He hit the wall and pulled himself up, lungs heaving, legs jelly. Simon leaned against the edge, barely upright.

The rest of the class was gathered already—some still drying off, others fist-bumping their partners.

Mr. Jacob raised his voice above the chatter.

“Winners: Jason and Mark. Fast, clean, efficient. Good job, boys.”

The two jocks high-fived, smug as ever.

Mr. Jacob scanned the roster. “And… the slowest pair today—Glenn and Simon. That’s 15 minutes after class.”

A few quiet chuckles rippled through the group.

Simon just sighed.

Glenn, still breathless, wasn’t even angry. He’d done his part—and done it well. He wasn’t the reason they lost.