Page 45 of Whistle

“Good,” Coach announced. “Start with underwaters. Go get wet!”

Everyone was up and moving toward the pool. Several guys took a running leap and launched themselves in. Water splashed onto the deck, and I stared at it like it was a foreign substance.

“Lawson!”

I glanced at Coach.

“Go get changed.”

I wondered how long it would take him to notice I hadn’t brought a duffle bag. That I had nothing to change into.

“Go,” he said, pointing at the door like he was putting a dog out to pee.

I went because it was better than staying here.

The locker room was quiet, the air still. Rows of lockers lined the space, and wooden benches stretched down the center of each aisle. I wandered down one and found Coach’s office to the right. The door was open and the light on. Beyond it were the toilets and sinks, and across the space were the showers.

It was an ordinary locker room. If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.

After tossing my coffee into a nearby trashcan, I started toward the office, planning to snoop through Coach’s desk, when the door smacked open and footsteps echoed through the open space. Pushing my hair behind my ears, I turned as several bodies came around the lockers.

Win was first, his stare hard. The bottom of my stomach fell out, the anticipation of confrontation making me queasy.

Yeah, yeah. It’s so hard to believe I didn’t like confrontation.

Liking something and being good at it are two completely different things.

Even though an inkling of unease rippled through me, I straightened my spine, drawing up to my full five-eight height.

Fine. Maybe just under five eight. Don’t tell anyone.

Behind him was Max and the one with good pants. I focused on him for a little longer than the others because he made me less nervous. I wasn’t sure why. I mean, he looked just as hardcore as the one in leather.

It’s probably the piercings.

My piercing doesn’t make me look hardcore. Malibu Barbie.

Honestly, I’d been called worse.

“Stay away from Lars,” Win said almost immediately.

Frankly, it was a relief. Trying to come up with scathing barbs and sarcastic one-liners on the fly all the time was exhausting.

“Shouldn’t be hard considering I can’t even stand the sight of him,” I retorted.

Win lunged, and a leather-covered arm towed him back.

“I’m serious, Lawson,” Win said, pushing Max’s arm away. “Lars is off-limits to you.”

What must it be like to have everyone protecting you all the time?

I felt my lips curl into a sneer. I stepped forward and poked my finger into Win’s meaty shoulder. “Yeah? Or what?”

“Or your stay at this school will be short-lived.”

I snorted. That wasn’t even a threat. I didn’t want to be here any more than they wanted me here.

“I don’t know how you managed to con Rush and Coach after your little pyro stunt and tour in the slammer, but the rest of us aren’t going to be so easy to fool.”

---