I'm 10, and I'm a Piranha. My best stroke is freestyle. When I grow up I'm going to the Olympics to beat Gary Hall, the fastest freestyle swimmer in the world. But first, I'm trying for JOs (Junior Olympics) with my relay team.

"Sigie!" I called to my friend as she dashed into the locker room.

Next came Chloe, her short hair bouncing as she walked. "Chloe! Yell-o!" I called.

Sigie and Chloe were on my relay team. They were nice. The fourth swimmer was Hope. She's a fast swimmer and has pretty blond hair. That's all I'm saying.

Mom always says, "If you can't say something nice about someone, don't say anything at all."

"I'm faster than all of you," Hope said as I opened my locker. "I've got two JO cuts — and you don't."

JO cuts meant she swam so fast that she qualified for individual events at Junior Olympics. I wanted some JO cuts too.

"Shut up, Hopeless!" I yelled and turned my back.

"You're going to get it!" Hope said and stomped away.

"We should make like snow and melt," Chloe said, squeezing my hand.

"Make like a banana and split?" Sigie asked.

Hope was bragging, again. It made me so mad. The three of us walked to the pool.

"Kat Logan!"

I stared at Hope's mom.

"Hope said you told her to 'shut up' and called her a name. That's not nice." Mrs. Jernigan said.

Like, duh. It wasn't supposed to be nice. "She was mean first."

"That's right," Sigie said. "She was bragging … "

Mrs. Jernigan looked down at Sigie from her nose. "I wasn't speaking to you. I'm talking to Kat. Kat Logan, apologize."