Rory’s resolve not to practice on his own almost crumbles less than twenty-four hours later when he wakes up before his alarm even goes off. He’s still half-asleep and almost dressed before he remembers he isn’t going to the pool this early. Groggily he strips off his sweats and crawls back under the covers on his bed, and forces his eyes shut until they obey on their own. After what seems like an eternity, he finally manages to drift off to sleep again.
Less than ten minutes later, though, his alarm does sound. So much for sleeping in.
At team practice that afternoon, it’s humiliating to have to take the second starting block and see Chase preening beside him, on the block where by all rights he should be. He knows statistically there is no difference in any of the lanes—conditions are
