The minute school resumed after the holiday break, Blakeley started drilling the swim team like they were preparing for the Olympics. Swim Team Nationals was a prestigious event, but no matter many how many races Double A students won, no one was going to end up on a box of Wheaties or with a million-dollar endorsement deal. Bragging rights and a keen looking trophy were about all they could hope for, yet Blakeley refused to ease up. Standing on the side of the pool, Ciaran was catching his breath in between heats talking to Ronan who was putting on a pretty good show of looking equally exhausted. His chest heaving, Ciaran wiped his forehead, not knowing how much of it was water and how much was sweat. “I still can’t believe Mum didn’t want to spend the holidays with you.” Ronan was bent over, his hands pressed into his knees, watching the water drip off his nose onto the gym floor. “It’s her life, mate,” he replied. “If she’d rather spend Christmas and ring in the New Year with Michael’s father instead of her own children, well, that’s her own bloody problem.”
