33 - The Horror at Camp Jellyjam Read Online Free

head.
    “No way,” Ivy said, shaking her head.
    “You have to compete,” Dierdre added. “You can’t just swim.”
    “Only The Best,” Ivy recited.
    “Right. Only The Best,” Jan agreed.
    I felt totally confused. “What do you mean ?” I demanded. “Why do you
keep saying that?”
    Dierdre tossed me a blue swimsuit. “Put it on. We’re going to be late.”
    “But… but—” I sputtered.
    The three girls hurried to get into their swimsuits.
    I saw that I had no choice. I went into the bathroom and started to change.
    But my questions repeated in my mind. I really wanted them answered.
    Why did I have to compete in the race? Why couldn’t I just have a swim?
    And why did everyone keep repeating “Only The Best”?
    What did they mean?

 
 
8
     
     
    The enormous blue pool sparkled under the bright sunlight. The sun hovered
high overhead. The concrete burned the soles of my bare feet. I couldn’t wait to
get into the water.
    Shielding my eyes with one hand, I searched for Elliot. But I couldn’t find
him in the crowd of kids who were waiting to watch the race.
    Elliot has probably already played three sports, I told myself. This had to
be the perfect camp for my brother!
    I gazed down the line of girls waiting to compete in the four-lap race. We
all stood on the edge of the deep end of the pool, waiting to jump in.
    I silently counted. There were at least two dozen girls in this race. And the
pool was wide enough for all of us to have a lane to swim in.
    “Hey, you look terrific in my suit,” Dierdre said. Her green eyes studied me.
“You should have tied your hair back, Wendy. It’s going to slow you down.”
    Wow, I thought. Dierdre really cares about winning.
    “Are you a good swimmer?” I asked her.
    She swatted a fly on the back of her calf. “The best,” she replied, grinning.
“How about you?”
    “I’ve never really raced,” I told her.
    The pool counselors were all young women. They wore white two-piece
swimsuits. Across the pool, I saw Holly sitting on the edge of the diving board,
talking to another counselor.
    A tall, red-haired counselor moved to the edge of the pool and blew her
whistle. “Everyone ready?” she called.
    We all shouted back that we were ready. Then the long line of girls grew
silent. We turned to the pool, leaned forward, and prepared to dive in.
    The water shimmered beneath me. The sun burned down on my back and shoulders.
I felt about to melt. I couldn’t wait to jump in.
    The whistle blew. I sprang forward and hit the water hard.
    I gasped from the shock of the cold against my hot skin. My arms churned hard
as I pulled myself forward.
    The splash of thrashing arms and kicking feet sounded like the roar of a
waterfall. I dipped my face into the water, feeling the refreshing coldness.
    Turning my head, I glimpsed Dierdre a few lengths behind me. She swam in a
steady rhythm, her arms and legs moving smoothly, gracefully.
    I’m ahead of everyone, I realized, glancing across the pool. I’m winning the
race!
    With a hard kick, I reached the other end of the pool. I made a sharp turn
and pushed off. As I started back to the deep end, the other girls were still
approaching the shallow end wall.
    I pulled myself harder. My heart started to pound.
    I knew I’d win the first lap easily. Then there were three laps to go.
    Three laps…
    I suddenly realized how dumb I was. The other girls were pacing themselves.
They weren’t swimming full speed because they knew it was a four-lap race.
    If I kept swimming this hard, I wouldn’t survive two laps!
    I sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly.
    Slowly… slowly…
    That was the word of the day.
    I slowed my kicking. Shot my arms out and pulled them back slowly. Took long
breaths. Long, slow breaths.
    As I made my turn and started the second lap, several other swimmers had
moved beside me. I caught Dierdre’s eye as she swam past.
    She never broke her steady rhythm. Stroke. Stroke. Breath.