chapter three: where it began

                                    

                                          
Long Beach, California, USA, July 19th, 2017
                          
It's my birthday. I'm at practice, working my starts for the upcoming swim meet. As I climb up onto the starting blocks, I take a second to revel in the exhilaration that is diving into a cool pool. 
                          
"Take your mark," my coach calls out, and me and my teammate Hayden crouch into our starting positions. I bend my knees and tense all the muscles in my body, feeling the grainy texture of the off-white starting block under the soles of my feet, the smooth edge under my fingers. I keep tension in my arms, pull back so my weight is on the balls of my feet. Like a loaded cannon, ready to fire. 
                          
"Go!" Coach barks, and I spring forward. I pull hard with my arms, push off with my powerful legs. I look straight ahead, arching my back the slightest bit to get up into the air, spotting my target in the water below me, then ducking my chin and bringing my arms over, straightening my legs and pointing my toes, forming the tightest streamline of an aerodynamic rocket. 
                          
My fingers touch the water, and then the rest of my body follows, entering the water smoothly. 
                          
I don't bother to launch into my stroke; we're just diving. I surface and shake my head like a dog, and my brown curls stick to my forehead. Both me and Hayden whoop. I can't help grinning. The water feels amazing on such a hot day. 
                          
"Dude," Hayden says, leaning over the lane line, "that was pretty awesome."
                          
I hold up my hand, and we high-five. "Nothin' like a pool on a summer day," I say, and he agrees, laughing. "All I need is a popsicle, and I'm never moving again." 
                          
Coach K breaks into our mini summer-is-here celebration. "Reid!" he hollers. "That was lousy! Your reaction time was pathetic! Get back up here and do that again!" 
                          
I look to Hayden, and he makes a face. 
                          
I just laugh, swim over to the side of the pool, haul myself out and head back to the block in lane three, snapping my goggles into position and pressing them against my eyes. 
                          
Here we go again. 
                          
After practice Hayden and I go get pho, which has become our little after-practice activity. I didn't know what pho was before Hayden showed me last year, but it's a Vietnamese noodle soup with meat and herbs and sometimes vegetables, and it's actually really good. 
                          
We're discussing the brain hemispheres and other random things when my cell rings. For some reason I feel like being a responsible teenager and actually answering it, so I stand up, signal 'just a sec' to Hayden, and head outside where it's quiet. It's my dad. 
                          
"Hey, Dad, wassup?" 
                          
"Hey, Reid. Where are you right now?" 
                          
"Corner of Rock and Tavern. Why? Something wrong?" 
                          
"No. Dr. Terrance wants you, though. Can you be over there in five minutes?"
                          
"Dr. Terrance?" Dr. Terrance is the head of the biggest, most well-known cryogenics research department in Southern California, though that's not saying much. I don't know of any other ones in the area. I visited the facility with my dad last year. It was actually because we were watching Avatar and I wanted to know what cryosleep was. We got into a discussion, and I was interested, so he decided to take me to CryoLab Science Industries. 
                          
And I was pretty fascinated...while I was there. When I got back, Hayden and I went down to the lake and caught crayfish, and the incident was erased from my memory. 
                          
Until now.
                          
"Dr. Terrance?" I repeat, not sure I'm hearing right. 
                          
"Yes. If you must know, he said he needed an intelligent student with some interest to help him with his research." 
                          
"Dad," I say, and hesitate. Right now my plate is pretty full with summer homework and training at the pool for the upcoming championships, and volunteering at the hospital. "Is this a long-term thing, or-"
                          
"Reid," Dad cuts me off, "I don't know. You don't have to go, son. But he asked for you, and I'm relaying the message. It's your choice now." 
                          
When I head back into the brightly lit restaurant Hayden raises his eyebrows. "Long call. Who was it?"
                          
"My dad." I sink back into the vinyl booth, printed red and green with swirls of yellow. "Apparently the head of CLSI wants me to help with some research." 
                          
"CLSI?" Sometimes I forget Hayden doesn't know everything that goes on inside my head.
                          
"Sorry, CryoLab Science Industries." I shake my head, stare down at the table and my bowl of now-cold soup. 
                          
"What are ya gonna do?" Hayden's finished his, and he's eyeing mine.
                          
"I don't know. You have any ideas?" I shove the bowl across the table, look up at him hopefully. "I don't have time if it's gonna be a long term thing. If I just have to file a couple papers, sure. But I can't make another commitment." 
                          
"Hmm." He slurps rice noodles noisily, which irritates me, even though on any other day I probably would have done it too. "I mean, he asked for you and you specifically? That's kinda cool."
                          
"Apparently." I sigh, resting my head on my hand. "I'm supposed to be there in five minutes. But I can't make up my mind. It's very short notice." 
                          
"That's like, across town, isn't it?" Hayden stands up halfway, bumping the bowl and splashing soup. "Reid! What the heck is your dad thinking?" 
                          
"Don't ask me," I moan. "I don't even know anything about CLSI. I went only once, last year." 
                          
"Are you going to get paid?" Hayden sits back down, but he doesn't bother to wipe up the spills. 
                          
"I don't know. I don't care. Either way is really out of the way." I'm leaning toward just giving up and saying no, but my dad acted like it was important. "I don't know," I repeat. "Do you have a coin?"
                          
"Think of it this way," Hayden says, propping his elbows on the table. "If you didn't go, would you be disappointed?" 
                          
I mull this over. "Yyyyesss?" I drag the word out, uncertain. 
                          
"If you did go, what would be the worst that could happen?" He finally sets his elbow in the soup, notices, and starts cleaning it up.
                          
"Um, I get really busy and stressed and ruin the research and mess up my performance at the Championships and don't have time for anything or anybody." Just thinking about it makes my head hurt. I rest my head in my hands, take a deep breath.
                          
There's silence. I glance up to see Hayden is staring at me with a very amused expression on his face. 
                          
"What?" I say, defensive.
                          
He laughs. "You are so dramatic, Reid. Just go. The fact that you are considering going means you should go." Having cleaned the soup off of the table, he turns to the pho actually in the bowl and starts eating again, more quietly this time. "Besides, no harm in checking it out. It's not like you got details. You go, find out it's too much, you apologize and say you didn't know it was such a commitment. No harm, no foul." He picks up the bowl and drinks from it, and I'm too distracted enough to tell him that's rude. "Am I right or am I right?" 
                          
"You're right," I say, surprised that he has actually found a decent answer. "Thanks, Hayden. But if I'm gonna be there in five minutes, I better run." 
                          
"See ya at practice!" he calls after me. "Thanks for the soup." 
                          
I don't answer.
                          
I should have, because that was the last time I ever saw him. 
                          
Please let me know if this is worth writing! I am really enjoying it, and I think the plot I have planned will be cool, so hang in there! Also, vote and comment on good or bad, just be nice please! Thanks 😎