Page 111 of Whistle

I stared at him. “I’m sorry?”

He sighed and walked behind his desk to drop in his chair. After setting aside his mug and fiddling with his tie, he looked up. “About one of your swimmers.”

My stomach sank. I knew which swimmer he was talking about. “I didn’t take you as the type to stand around the water cooler and gossip,” I said, meeting his stare.

“I’m not. But I am head of this college, and as such, it is my job to make sure this campus is in order.”

“Just spit it out, Philip.”

“Your new swimmer. The one you recruited from California.” He leaned forward and lifted the cover of a folder sitting on his desk. “Bodhi Lawson.”

My teeth smacked together, but I forced my jaw to relax. “What about him?”

“He skipped an entire week of practices, Emmett. With no recourse.”

“It was a difficult transition for him. He?—”

“He still isn’t swimming. It’s been over two weeks. Elite’s first meet is in six days. I hear he hasn’t even been in the pool.”

The urge to defend Bodhi was so fierce that I sat forward in the chair. In an effort to cover the movement, I set my coffee on the edge of his desk and then leaned back, my spine remaining rigid. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask the dean where he was getting his information. If he was having me watched. Elite watched.

“Why is your new recruit not swimming, Emmett?”

“He has some trauma related to the water, and it’s been inducing panic attacks. I’ve been working?—”

“If he can’t swim, why is he on Elite?”

“I didn’t know about his trauma when I recruited him,” I said.

Not that it would have mattered. I’d have done anything to put him on a plane and bring him home.

But he isn’t home, is he, Emmett? He’s in a dorm room.

“And once you realized?” Dean Cardinal pressed.

“He was already here. Already Elite.”

“Yet he is still not swimming.”

“I’ve got him set up with a therapist. He’s been coming to practice, and I’ve been working with him to build confidence in the pool.”

“This is not the YMCA, Emmett. This is a division-one swim team.”

“I realize that.”

“Then why is he still here?”

“Because Elite doesn’t give up on each other,” I snapped.

Philip pursed his lips.

“What kind of example would that show if I just booted him right after signing him? Not to mention, he’s here as part of restitu?—”

“I’m well aware of why he is here.” Philip cut me off. “Which is to swim. Which he is not. Again, this is not a rehabilitation center.”

Agitated, I got up to pace. “He will swim.”

“By the first meet?”

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