Remi stood outside the pool office, his hand hovering uncertainly over the door handle. The hallway smelled of chlorine and disappointment—the latter being a scent he'd become all too familiar with after the recent football and lacrosse tryouts. A small plaque beside the door read "Coach Sarah Ramirez - Aquatics Director," with a newer addition underneath: "Synchronized Swimming Program Director."

Taking a deep breath, he knocked.

"Come in!" called a voice from inside.

Coach Ramirez sat behind a desk cluttered with training schedules and competition regulations. She was younger than Remi expected, probably in her early thirties, with the lean build of a former competitive swimmer and bright, analytical eyes that seemed to evaluate everything they saw.

"Remi Halistaad?" She glanced at the paperwork in front of her. "I have to admit, you're not what I expected when I saw your application."

"Is that... bad?" Remi shifted uncomfortably.

"Not at all." She leaned back in her chair. "Just unexpected. Most boys your age wouldn't consider synchronized swimming. What brought you here?"

Remi considered lying, making up some story about a lifelong passion for aquatics. Instead, he opted for honesty. "I didn't make the other teams. Coach Baker said I wasn't... the right fit for football or lacrosse."

"Ah, Steven Baker." Something flickered across Coach Martinez's face—disapproval, maybe? "Well, his loss might be our gain. Do you have any swimming experience?"

"I've been swimming since I was little. Nothing competitive, but I'm comfortable in the water."

Coach Martinez nodded, making a note on her clipboard. "This program is something new for the school. We're the first co-ed synchronized swimming team at our school. A few other schools in the district have already started programs, but we're still going to face some... unique challenges." She fixed him with a steady gaze. "Are you prepared for that?"

"You mean the jokes?" Remi met her eyes. "I figured there would be some."

"More than some. This isn't going to be easy, Remi. Synchronized swimming requires incredible strength, flexibility, and coordination. Plus, you'll be working closely with your teammates in a way that's different from any other sport. We need people who can handle both the physical demands and the social pressure."

She stood up. "Go get changed and meet me at the pool. I want to see what you can do."

Remi headed to the locker room, changing into his plain black swim jammers. They weren't team regulation, but they'd have to do for now. After storing his belongings in a locker, he made his way to the natatorium.

Several students were already in the pool when he entered, the afternoon sun streaming through the high windows and dancing on the water's surface. The pool itself was Olympic-sized, with dedicated lanes for the regular swim team on one side and a deeper section where a few students were practicing basic floating formations. Tawnee was among them, executing a perfect back layout while another girl spotted her.

"Hit the showers first," Coach Ramirez instructed, pointing to the pre-pool rinse station. "It's mandatory before entering the pool."

After a quick rinse, Remi approached the pool's edge, water dripping from his hair.

"Alright," Coach Ramirez said, "show me your basic swimming form "Four lengths: freestyle, backstroke, breaststroke, and butterfly if you know it."

Remi slipped into the water, grateful he'd brought his swim gear just in case. The water was cool and welcoming as he began his laps. He wasn't the fastest swimmer, but his form was decent—years of summer swimming had at least taught him the basics.

After the laps, Coach Martinez had him demonstrate various treading water techniques, testing his endurance and stability. By the time she called him over to the pool's edge, his muscles were burning, but he felt surprisingly good.

"Not bad," she said, making more notes. "Your upper body strength needs work, and your leg extensions could be cleaner, but there's potential. Now, the important question: why should I put you on this team?"

Remi grabbed the pool's edge, treading water as he thought about his answer. "Honestly? Because I'll work harder than anyone else. I know I'm not the best athlete, but this feels... different. Like maybe I could be part of something new, something important."

Coach Martinez studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded. "Practice starts in fifteen minutes. The team's gathering for their first session today. Consider this your qualifying trial—I want to see how you mesh with the others."

Relief and anxiety flooded through Remi in equal measure. "Thank you, Coach."

"Don't thank me yet," she warned, though there was a hint of a smile on her face. "Get changed and be back here in ten minutes. Let's see if you can keep up."

As other students started to arrive, Remi caught a glimpse of Tawnee Williams, her presence both exciting and nerve-wracking. He'd shared classes with her before but had never really talked to her—she always seemed too intimidating, too focused, too... everything.

This was his chance to prove himself, to find his place. As he waited by the pool's edge in his plain black jammers, Remi tried to quiet the nervous energy in his stomach. Whatever happened next, at least it would be on his own terms.

The next two hours would be his chance to prove himself. As the rest of the team began filtering onto the pool deck, Coach Ramirez called everyone together.

"Alright, team! Circle up!" She waited as twelve students gathered around, all in various states of pre-pool preparation. Remi noticed two other guys among the predominantly female group - a stocky redhead and a taller boy with close-cropped dark hair. They both gave him encouraging nods.

"Before we start today's practice, I'd like to introduce a potential new member. This is Remi Halistaad, and he'll be trying out with us today." Coach Ramirez's smile widened slightly. "If he makes the cut, he'll be our third male team member - a milestone for our program."

The two guys exchanged a fist bump at this announcement, and several of the girls nodded approvingly. Tawnee offered a small, encouraging smile from across the circle. Remi felt some of his nervousness ease - clearly, they wanted this to work as much as he did.

"Now, everyone through the showers and into the pool. We're starting with a twenty-minute warm-up. Standard drills - rotations between freestyle, breast, and back. Focus on form over speed."

The warm-up alone was more intense than Remi expected. Coach Ramirez had them switching strokes every four laps, maintaining strict attention to technique. By the time they finished, his muscles were already feeling the strain.

"Good work," Coach Ramirez called out. "Now, pair up. We're working on basic support positions today."

Before Remi could look around awkwardly for a partner, Tawnee swam over to him. "Want to work together? I can show you the basics."

"Thanks," he managed, trying not to sound too relieved.

The next hour proved to be both fascinating and challenging. Tawnee demonstrated how to properly support a partner in various positions, explaining the importance of stable base positions and synchronized breathing. It was nothing like regular swimming - every movement had to be precisely controlled, and maintaining the right position while treading water was exhaustingly difficult.

"Keep your core tight," Tawnee instructed as Remi attempted to support her in a basic back layout. "You need to be solid as a rock or we'll both go under."

His arms trembled with the effort, but he managed to hold the position for the required count. When they switched roles, he gained a new appreciation for the trust required between partners. Floating on his back, depending on someone else to keep him stable, was more unnerving than he'd expected.

The final thirty minutes were devoted to learning a basic routine sequence. Coach Ramirez had them work in groups of four, practicing simple movements in unison. Remi found himself grouped with Tawnee and two other students - a tall girl named Sarah and a stocky boy called Marcus who, like Remi, was new to the sport.

"Remember," Coach Ramirez called out as they attempted to coordinate a simple floating pattern, "synchronization is key. You need to feel your teammates' movements, anticipate their timing. This isn't just about doing the moves - it's about doing them as one unit."

By the time practice ended, Remi was exhausted in ways he'd never experienced before. Every muscle ached, and he'd swallowed more pool water than he cared to admit. But there was also a sense of accomplishment. He'd made it through the full two hours, and while he certainly hadn't mastered anything, he hadn't completely failed either.

As they climbed out of the pool, Coach Ramirez pulled him aside. "Not bad for a first day, Halistaad. You've got a lot to learn, but I saw good things out there. Team suits are ordered through the athletics office. Get sized this week - you'll need it for Thursday's practice."

Remi's heart leapt. "You mean...?"

"Welcome to the team." She handed him a folder. "Here's the practice schedule and team regulations. Don't make me regret this decision."

Walking to the locker room, Remi caught Tawnee's eye. She gave him a thumbs up and a grin that seemed to say "told you so." His muscles might be screaming, but Remi couldn't keep the smile off his face. Maybe this wasn't where he'd expected to end up, but somehow, it felt right.

The hot shower helped ease some of the ache in his muscles, though Remi had a feeling he'd be feeling this practice for days to come. As he finished changing back into his jeans and t-shirt, the other two guys from the team approached him.

"Hey, welcome aboard," the redhead said, extending his hand. "I'm Dave, and this is Marcus. Gotta say, we're stoked to have another guy join the team."

"Thanks," Remi replied, shaking both their hands. "I wasn't sure what to expect, but that was... intense."

Marcus laughed. "Just wait until we start the actual routines. But hey, at least we can spot each other during practice now. Having just two guys made some of the partner work tricky."

"You heading out?" Dave asked, shouldering his backpack. "We usually grab smoothies at The Junction after practice. Sort of a team tradition. You should join us."

Before Remi could respond, they heard the girls calling from outside the locker room. "Hurry up in there! We're starving!"

"Coming!" Marcus called back, then turned to Remi. "Seriously, you should come. First smoothie's on me to celebrate getting our third guy."

The invitation felt genuine, and Remi found himself nodding. "Yeah, okay. Just let me text my mom so she knows I'll be late."

As they exited the locker room, they found most of the team waiting, including Tawnee, who was busy towel-drying her thick hair. She brightened when she saw Remi had joined them.

"Oh good, you're coming! You have to try their protein berry blast - it's perfect after practice."

The enthusiastic welcome from his new teammates felt surreal after the disappointment of his previous sports tryouts. As they headed toward The Junction, their voices echoing in the hallway, Remi felt something he hadn't expected - a sense of belonging. Sure, his muscles were screaming, and he had more chlorine in his system than he cared to think about, but he'd found his team.

And somehow, that made everything worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The house was quiet when Remi finally made it home, the setting sun casting long shadows through the front windows. His muscles protested every step up to the front door, but the post-practice smoothie and team hangout had been worth it. The porch light flickered on automatically as he dug for his keys, illuminating a small collection of Amazon packages stacked neatly by the door - probably more of Rachel's endless online shopping.

"Is that you, Remi?" His fourteen-year-old sister's voice carried down from upstairs before he'd even closed the door. A moment later, she appeared at the top of the stairs, still in her school clothes but with her long dark hair now pulled up in a messy bun. "Mom's been wondering where you were. You're late."

"I texted her," Remi said, dropping his swim bag by the stairs. The chlorine smell wafted up, making Rachel wrinkle her nose.

"Ugh, what died in your bag?" She descended the stairs, then paused halfway down, sniffing dramatically. "Wait, why do you smell like a pool?" Her eyes narrowed with sudden interest. "Did you actually join the swim team?"

"Synchronized swimming," Remi corrected, heading for the kitchen. He needed water - despite the smoothie, he felt dehydrated from all the pool time. The kitchen was warm and smelled like marinara sauce - his mom had obviously started dinner prep before heading to her evening yoga class.

Rachel followed, a gleeful expression spreading across her face. "Wait, seriously? Like, with the nose clips and the sparkly swimsuits?" She burst into giggles, nearly dropping her phone. "Oh my god, this is amazing. Did you have to wear a flower swim cap? Please tell me there are flower swim caps."

"That's competitive synchronized swimming, and no." Remi filled a large glass with water, then thought better of it and grabbed the whole Brita pitcher. "It's just the school team. Co-ed."

"There are other guys doing it?" Rachel hopped onto one of the kitchen stools, clearly settling in for a full interrogation. She propped her elbows on the granite countertop, resting her chin in her hands. "Or are you the only one dumb enough to sign up? Oh god, please tell me you're the only guy. That would be hilarious."

"There are three of us now, actually." Remi couldn't keep the pride out of his voice as he finished his first glass. "Coach says it's a milestone for the program."

Something in his tone made Rachel pause. She studied him for a moment, her teasing smile fading into something more genuine. "You actually like it, don't you? Like, for real?"

"Yeah," Remi admitted, starting on his second glass of water. He leaned against the counter, feeling the good kind of tired in his muscles. "It's... different. Hard, but in a good way. You should've seen some of the moves we were learning today."

"Huh." Rachel seemed to be processing this. She absently scrolled through her phone, but her attention was still on him. "Well, I still think it's hilarious, and I'm definitely telling all my friends." She grinned mischievously. "But I guess it's kind of cool too. In a totally weird way. At least it's not as boring as football."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Remi said dryly, but he was smiling.

"So who else is on the team?" Rachel's eyes lit up with fresh interest. "Any cute girls? There have to be cute girls in synchronized swimming."

Remi felt his face warm slightly, thinking of Tawnee. "It's not like that. We're just teammates."

"Oh my god, there is someone!" Rachel practically bounced in her seat. "Look at your face! Who is it? Do I know her? Is she in my grade?"

"Don't you have homework to do or something?"

"Nope. This is way more interesting." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Wait, isn't Tawnee Williams on the swim team? The one you've had a crush on since like forever?"

"I have not had a crush on her since forever," Remi protested, perhaps a bit too quickly.

"Please, you practically walk into walls whenever she's around." Rachel's grin widened. "Oh my god, this is perfect. You joined synchronized swimming to get close to her, didn't you?"

"That's not... I didn't..." Remi fumbled for words.

"Does Dad know yet?" Rachel asked, abruptly changing topics in that way she had of using conversational whiplash to her advantage.

The question hung in the air. Remi set his glass down, suddenly very interested in refilling it. "Mom knows. She signed the permission form. Dad... I'll tell him when it comes up."

Rachel nodded, understanding perfectly. Their father's traditional views on sports - especially men's sports - were well known in the household. "Want me to be there when you do? I can run interference. You know, do that thing where I start talking about my period and he gets all uncomfortable and leaves the room."

"Maybe." Remi managed a small smile. Rachel might be a pain sometimes, but she had his back when it counted. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." She hopped off the stool, stretching dramatically. "Seriously though, if you ever have to wear one of those sparkly suits, I want pictures. Like, so many pictures. I'm talking full photo shoot, maybe even video. For posterity."

"Get out of here," Remi laughed, tossing a dish towel at her.

Rachel dodged it easily, dancing toward the doorway. "Make me, water ballet boy! Oh! That's your new nickname. I'm telling everyone to call you that now."

"You're the worst," Remi called after her, but there was no heat in it.

"Love you too, big bro!" Her laughter echoed up the stairs, followed by the sound of her bedroom door closing and music starting to pulse through the ceiling.

Remi shook his head, finally allowing himself to sink into one of the kitchen chairs. His muscles were definitely going to hate him tomorrow, but somehow, it didn't matter. Rachel's teasing felt different from what he might face at school. There was acceptance buried in it, wrapped in the comfortable layers of sibling rivalry. Besides, he had a feeling his new teammates would have his back, just like Rachel did at home.

Now he just had to figure out how to tell his dad. But that was tomorrow's problem. For now, he had to figure out how to make it up the stairs to shower before dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~