Free Sprite (Annabelle's Story Part One) by Leigh Michael Page A

apart. The idea was to go over the first one, under the second, and so on until through them all.
    Leading up to the sixth point, we caught our breath as we made a wide right turn around a bunch of reef. Once at the straightaway, speed was crucial and break time was over.
    A solid pace was necessary before cutting across the jet stream. Adrian said otherwise I’d get sucked back into the current and right back to obstacle five. In fact, he said some merfolk got stuck on obstacle five and six multiple times, which sounded exhausting.
    For the sake of the demonstration, Adrian suggested we just swim under the jet stream. It worked for me. Finally, we reached the final obstacle. A cliff-face stood tall on either side and above, forcing us forward. It wasn’t a direction I wanted to go because Diving through a hot spring provided the only exit from the narrow passageway. A non-stop stream of geothermally heated bubbles spewed from the ocean floor, creating a wall. It looked terrifying.
    The one positive… it took only a split second to swim through. Still, knowing I was about to scorch myself was nerve wracking. Of course, Adrian didn’t help. The guy had no compassion and pushed me into the bubbles when I hesitated.
    Thankfully, the finish line was on the other side.
    Call me crazy, but even after Adrian and I swam slowly through the course, I was eager to try it on my own.
    I felt secretly relieved that I’d already mastered the jet stream and I wouldn’t embarrass myself the first time through the course.
    Turned out, embarrassment came in other ways. A lot of ‘em too.
    Although it took some work to perfect my swim stroke, I eventually achieved an impressive time in the fifty-yard dash.
    The second obstacle gave me a little more trouble. I moved through the holes too quickly and wound up bouncing into the next wall.
    I also learned to take the last hole a little slower after I smashed into the rock on the other side (multiple times).
    Swimming under the boulder turned out to be less scary by myself. In fact, I self-taught myself a great technique where I propelled forward with my hands against the sand. I think my smaller size helped as well.
    To my relief, I handled the jet stream like a pro. Getting out took a little more work. I overshot my exit a few times and was too quick to roll out a handful of others. Soon enough, I recognized my sweet spot.
    Now, the hurdles I liked. I enjoyed swerving up and down to navigate the fifth obstacle. Good thing, too, because it took more attempts than I liked to admit to gather enough momentum to shoot myself through the jet stream. Each time my lungs heaved as I made the long turn around the reef.
    Then, came the hot spring. In my mind, I heard the four-note opening sonata of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. The sounds of his piano forced me forward. I literally emerged from the bubbles with tiny singe marks on my bodysuit.
    We were at it for hours, frustrating myself with a different portion of the course each try. Adrian and I alternated turns to give each other a much-needed breather and a chance to fuel up.
    Finally, and I mean, finally, I completed a perfect run through the course. After I proudly swam back to Adrian, I asked him for my time.
    “One minute, fifty-nine seconds,” he said. “Your best time yet. Good job.”
    “Thanks. So, what’s your personal best?” My competitive side was bound to surface.
    “One minute, fifty-two seconds,” he responded, smugly.
    “All right. We’re racing.”
    With a chuckle, he immediately headed to the starting line.
    Once in position, he looked me up and down. “You sure you wanna do this?”
    “Of course I’m sure.”
    He waited for me to join him. By the look in his eyes, I could tell the wheels spun in his head, trying to think of an insult, a jab, a macho remark… something.
    “I said I’m ready.”
    “All right then. Get ready. Get set. Go!”
    We were off to the races.
    Thanks to my perfected stroke, I kept up with