The stands are packed with spectators from both teams, like a mosaic of blue and red. I glance to my left and see five girls standing behind their starting blocks, getting ready to dive into the pool for the 500 yard freestyle. Three of them, in their red caps, are my opponents for the night, my enemies for the few hours of this meet. However there is one girl in a blue cap that matches mine who has been my rival for these first fourteen years of my life: my sister.

I recall the early days when we fought over Bratz dolls and Build-a-Bears. We competed to get higher grades in school and more ribbons at swim meets. She and I even argued over who could sit on the “better” couch, the short one closer to the television.

However, today the stakes are higher than just getting the less desirable seat to watch re-runs of Spongebob. Diving off the blocks, I remind myself that this race is crucial to winning the meet and the South Jersey Public A title. As much as I want to defeat her, I know we need to work together to outperform the girls on the other team.

As children, I admired her and followed her example in an attempt to replicate her success. Though we were rivals, she always supported me. On numerous occasions, she was my cheerleader, shouting, “Go, Dominique!” from the audience as I danced in a recital in preschool and claimed an essay award in second grade.

From the corner of my eye, I can see her pull ahead in the race. She is flying through the water with fierce determination, and I am once again following her example, kicking and pulling as hard as I can. In my head, I send her silent words of encouragement as I compete with the girl in the red cap adjacent to me.

Throughout our years growing up, I could always count on her to be there to back me up. She taught me the power and importance of support, and in time, we became a team. When my mother was hospitalized with lupus, I provided her a shoulder to lean on and a sleeve to wipe her damp eyes. Those times, although tough, were bearable because we could rely on each other.

Taking the last strokes to the wall, my legs ache and lungs burn for air. An instant after I hit the wall, I turn around to face the board on the wall with our times. She touched first and I was third, finishing before all of the opposing girls and sealing the win for our team. We hug and high-five to congratulate each other, neither of us feeling anything but excitement and joy about the race. The old sense of rivalry has dissipated into feelings of camaraderie and teamwork. Now when I look at that girl in the blue cap, I no longer see a rival, but rather an understanding, loving sister.