Barely Floating - Hardcover

Rivera, Lilliam

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 0593323122 ISBN 13: 9780593323120

Verlag: Kokila, 2023

Inhaltsangabe

A dazzling story full of heart about how one twelve-year-old channels her rage into synchronized swimming dreams, from the author of The Education of Margot Sanchez and Never Look Back, Lilliam Rivera.

Natalia de la Cruz Rivera y Santiago, also known as Nat, was swimming neighborhood kids out of their money at the local Boyle Heights pool when her life changed. The L.A. Mermaids performed, emerging out of the water with matching sequined swimsuits, and it was then that synchronized swimming stole her heart.

The problem? Her activist mom and professor dad think it's a sport with too much emphasis on looks—on being thin and white. Nat grew up the youngest in a house full of boys, so she knows how to fight for what she wants, using her anger to fuel her. People often underestimate her swimming skills when they see her stomach rolls, but she knows better than to worry about what people think. Sometimes, she feels more like a submarine than a mermaid, but she wonders if she could be both.

Barely Floating explores what it means to sparkle in your skin, build community with those who lift you up, and keep floating when waters get rough.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Lilliam Rivera is an award-winning writer and author of the young adult novels Dealing in Dreams, The Education of Margot Sanchez, Never Look Back, We Light Up the Sky, and the middle grade novel Goldie Vance: The Hotel Whodunit. Her work has appeared in the Washington Post, the New York Times, and Elle, among others. Her novel Never Look Back is slated for an Amazon movie adaptation.

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Chapter 1
It’s 10:30 in the morning, and Roosevelt Pool is packed with people. Big kids. Skinny kids. Babies shrieking because of the cold water while mommies try soothing them with sweet baby talk. Rough kids dunking each other. Girls in long T-­shirts, hiding their panzas. Abuelitas sitting on the pool steps, cooling off their wrinkly legs.
Then there’s me.
I’m at the far end of the pool. The deep end. That’s where the real action is. I’m about to take Beto down. He doesn’t know this, of course. Just look at his clueless face, staring out at nothing. Beto is all cheeks, like a chipmunk storing food or like Kiko from that old El Chavo cartoon. I’m about to deflate those cachetes with pure muscle. What does El Chavo always say? Beto didn’t count on my astucias.
“Hey, Beto, I bet you ten bucks you can’t beat me in a race across the length of the pool.” My voice is loud enough so that everyone can hear. Beto turns to his group of friends and shakes his head.
“Dude, your sister,” he says to Ramón. He laughs off my challenge.
“Nat’s not playing,” Ramón says. “She means business.”
There are three boys in my family: Ramón is the youngest. Julio, the oldest, is married with a kid on the way. And Raymundo is attending college in Santa Barbara. Ramón is in high school, and so is his ugly friend Beto. Beto is on the water polo team. I’m not on any team. I’m just here to make money.
“Ten bucks says you can’t beat me.”
I lean back against the pool deck. Those around me chuckle or shake their heads.
“Why can’t you just chill for once?” Sheila says.
Sheila is my cousin. Technically, Sheila and Ramón are supposed to be taking care of me. “Taking care,” however, is forever in air quotes. It’s hard to contain a person like me—­especially when that person grew up in a house full of stinky, loud boys. Sheila doesn’t get it. She’s an only child who loves clothes and Fenty lipstick.
“Me and you, swimming across the pool,” I repeat. “You know how to swim, right?”
Last week, I made an even twenty bucks outswimming twins. The twins were running their mouths about how there was no way a gorda could swim the full length of a pool. There’s always someone underestimating me. They see my stomach rolls and think, She can’t possibly be physically fit. When I emerged victorious, the twins had no choice but to pay.
Beto looks nervous. If he doesn’t take the bet, he’s a punk. If Beto agrees to race me and I end up beating him, which I will, what does that make him? So much is weighing on those balloony cheeks.
“From here to the other end of the pool,” I say. “C’mon. What are you afraid of?”
The crowd around us grows. I look over at my best friend, Joanne, who sits in our shaded spot reading Summer Hero, volume two of the manga series Kurahashi. I haven’t had a chance to read that one yet. I always get the manga after Joanne finishes, and then we dissect every little detail in the story. Joanne shields her eyes now and gives me a timid wave.
“Fine, but I’m only doing this to teach you a lesson,” Beto finally says.
Teach me a lesson? Even Ramón laughs at this statement. Beto hasn’t been around my house much, nor around me. He doesn’t understand that I’m like a shark: relentless. When I was seven, I sold chicles to the kids in my class until another mom told my mom. At ten years old, I found a way to teach kids curse words in different languages. A dollar a curse word. That lasted for a couple of weeks. Now that I’m twelve, I understand the importance of using my skills. I’m fast. I can beat anyone in this pool if I set my mind to it.
Sheila tries to be the timer. No way. I don’t trust her. Besides, it’s not a good look for family to be involved in business. Instead, I hand the honors to a boy with shaggy curly curls covering most of his face. He parts his hair away from his big eyes. Good. He’ll do.
“On your mark,” Shaggy Boy says.
Kids slap my shoulders. Girls giggle. Some of them think I’m cool to do this. Others think I’m too much. I’m not doing this to please anyone. I’m doing it because I can beat Beto.
I pull down my goggles.
“Get set.”
One more glance at Beto. He’s laughing. He thinks this is a joke. I’m going to win.
“Go!”
I propel my legs against the wall and shoot out like a rocket. The start is the most important part of any race. I glide underwater for as long as I can until I have to break the surface for air. Professional swimmers always do that. One quick gulp of air and I turn to Beto. He’s ahead, but not by much.
Okay, time to catch up.
My arms are like octopus tentacles, stretching as far as they can. I scoop water and direct it behind me. I kick my legs hard. Every stroke is important.
In this pool, I’m a swordfish. I’m a mermaid. I’m an underwater speed demon.
And this demon is about to take Beto down. Too bad, so sad.
A quick look. Beto is slowing down. He’s about to get beat by this twelve-­year-­old. Where has his training from water polo gone? He finally notices me. We are neck to neck. I bet anything there’s fear in Beto’s eyes. I dig deep and find the last burst of energy to seal this deal.
And boom!
I tap the end of the pool. Beto pulls in seconds later. The crowd around me cheers. I never get tired of this, the part when I’m victorious, when I’m able to prove the haters wrong. “Never underestimate the power of a Latina”—­that’s what Mom always says. Dudes are always trying.
Poor Beto. He’s breathless, practically hyperventilating.
“I won!” I jump out of the water and point to my empty palm. “Pay me!”
“No way,” Beto says, pushing my hand away. He’s barely able to form words. “I’m not paying you.”
“Pay me! I beat you.” I don’t like where this is going. If you lose, you have to be a good sport. Besides, this is business. “Everyone here is my witness. I beat you fair and square.”
Beto tries to brush me off. The crowd eggs him on. They call him weak. How could you let a kid beat you? You let a girl win. I don’t care if he’s in his feelings right now. I won without any tricks. It was just me in the water.
“You owe me ten bucks,” I say. “Give me my money.”
Beto and my brother walk over to where Sheila and her friends hang out. They try to ignore me. I will not let up. Beto can’t renege on this deal.
“I’m not leaving until I get my payment.” I stand in the middle of their group, right on some girl’s towel. I’m a Taurus, and we’re known for our willingness to get into people’s faces. I will not move from this spot until Beto places some crisp bills on my hand. The girls complain about me standing on their towel. Beto pleads to my brother.
“That’s enough, Nat,” Ramón says. Not even my own blood is willing to back me up. Honestly, what’s the point of having brothers when they won’t stand up for what’s right?
“Go play with your friends,” he says.
“No,” I say.
If Ramón won’t help me, then I’ll have to get ugly. I jump on Beto. “You owe me.”
Beto doesn’t know what to do. He knows well enough not to hit me, but he also doesn’t want his eyes scratched out. So there is a...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Kokila
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2023
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593323122
• ISBN 13: 9780593323120
• Einband: Gebundene Ausgabe
• Anzahl der Seiten: 240
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar