Round 3

And Glenn knew… round three was coming.

Glenn stood quietly at the edge of the pool, the faint chatter of the class behind him a low buzz. The violet swimsuit still clung tightly to his skin, but now, he barely noticed it.

He rolled his shoulders, stretched out his arms, shook the nerves from his limbs. If they were going to watch him, fine—let them watch.

Mr. Jacob raised his whistle. “Round three! Swimmers ready?”

Glenn stepped forward, toes curled over the edge.

“Three… two… one… GO!”

The whistle blew. Glenn launched forward in a clean, arcing dive. His body cut through the water like a blade.

Lap one—done in seconds.

As he flipped at the wall and pushed off for lap two, he caught a glimpse of the others still flailing mid-way through their first.

By the time Glenn slapped the wall at the end of lap two, the rest were still struggling to finish one.

The room quieted. Even the splashes of the other swimmers seemed to fade.

Lap three. Lap four. Lap five.

When Glenn finally pulled himself from the water, breathing hard, he turned to see the stunned faces of his classmates—jocks included—still crawling to the finish.

Mr. Jacob’s eyes were locked on the stopwatch in his hand. His lips tightened. He looked at Glenn, then at the pool, then back at Glenn.

That was fast. Really fast, he thought. Might’ve broken a school record. I’ll need to check during detention.

The last swimmer finally touched the wall. Mr. Jacob raised his voice.

“Alan, Paul, Joe—you’re staying 30 minutes after class. Everyone else, go get changed.”

Glenn didn’t smile. Didn’t gloat. He just grabbed his towel and walked back to the bench.

After a quick debrief, the class was dismissed.