Chapter 16

It was unthinkable. Me, Mr. Academics, skipping college for a week. However, that's exactly what I found myself doing. Sheila had told me about her plans to take me to the Olympics. However, she suddenly decided that she needed me there for the Olympic trials. In Indianapolis. In April.

When we got back to Stanford in January, our relationship deepened. I'd never had a steady girlfriend, of course, so I was winging it. The same was true for her. There was so much excitement at first, so many firsts for both of us. But when we got back to Stanford, we settled into a routine. Dad had actually warned me about that-he said that a lot of couples get all overwhelmed about the excitement of a new relationship, that they find a routine of an established relationship boring and stultifying. He said, since it was the first real relationship for both of us, that might even be more of a problem.

Luckily, it turned out to be the exact opposite. For me, and Sheila and I talked about it, and she agreed. Where our outer personalities are very different, a lot of our inner personality was much the same. One thing that we found was vitally important to both of us was safety and security. Another thing was a deep empathy, and a desire to share our highs and lows with someone who shared that empathy. What we discovered, when we settled into a routine, was that our basic empathy was so strong and compatible with each other that it sometimes seemed like we were two people occupying the same space. When I unexpectedly blew a test-not something that happened to me often, and thus a very upsetting event-she broke out in tears. Luckily, the highs-and there were more of them, for both of us-were equally shared.

Jake made the comment once that it was almost like we were twins.

"Except twins don't make mad love," Sheila giggled. And that was something to behold, it turned out. As our empathy for each other deepened and grew, sex became an experience that it's hard for me to describe. It had been great, right from the first, but it seemed to get better, especially emotionally, every time.

But that shared empathy between us had grown in every way-which is why I was sitting on a pool deck in Indianapolis instead of in a programming class in California.

I truly was glad to be there. A little amazed, but very glad. Her parents and Jenny were there with us, the first time I had seen them since Thanksgiving. Jenny greeted me with, "Hey, you're still around! When's the wedding?"

Yup, Sheila's sister, all over.

Sheila complained that the schedule didn't work to her advantage. "My sure bet, the 200 back, is the last race I swim. I'd like to get it out of the way so I know for sure I'm on the Olympic team." The top two in each event made the team, and she told me she was sure that "the only way I don't make top 2 in the 200 back is if I break my leg pushing off the wall on the third turn." But, still, she would've liked to have been sure, early.

Her first race was the 400 Individual Medley, a race she swam for fun and for distance work and didn't expect to make the team in. She was a contender for the 200 IM, but the 400 was a long distance for her. Before she went down to change and get ready, we sat in the stands for a bit, cuddling. I had gotten to know her coach at Stanford, Jon Peters, pretty well over the year, and he was sitting with us. I told her, "Remember. This isn't your race. Warm up, get used to the atmosphere, relax."

Coach Peters laughed, "Damn good advice. You sure you need me?" She grinned at him. Me, she kissed.

Then she went down to the pool and relaxed her way right into second place. Bang, first try, she's on the team, and in her weakest event by far. I was thrilled beyond belief. She came out from under the stands, found me sitting with Coach Peters, and said to us, "Can someone explain to me how in hell I just made the team in the 400?"

"You've been improving in that event all year," Coach Peters told her. "Of course, you've been improving in all your events all year."

"Making the team in your first event took all the pressure off, didn't it?" I said.