With most in the pool, the group has thinned enough that I notice Parker seated in a chair near the wall. Her ankle is neatly bandaged, her crutches are propped beside her, and she’s staring right at me. I probably shouldn’t, but I smirk at her, just to make it known that I regret absolutely nothing.
Mrs. C. glances up when I approach, and I note the weary smile that flashes across her face. I’m guessing she’s still on the fence about whether Parker’s accident really was one.
Nervous, I pick at the end of my braid as I begin to speak.
“Can I … talk to you for a sec?” I force the words from my mouth.
Her brow quirks. “Of course. Always.”
Breathing deep, I just spit it out. “I can’t swim. I had a …thinghappen when I was a kid, so I never learned.”
Her head tilts slowly. “You aren’t the first newbie I’ve had,” she shares. “It just means your milestones will be a little different than the others’. Instead of working on timing and technique, you’ll have until the end of the unit to learn how to actually swim. I’ll need to see you get from end to end to earn a passing grade. I can work with you, but would you prefer that I assign a classmate to help instead?”
I hated the idea ofanyonehaving to babysit me, but especially a classmate.
“I’ll figure it out,” I answer, offering a tense smile right after.
She passes another weary look my way, then goes back to taking attendance on her tablet. Meanwhile, I turn to hightail it back to the shallow end.
A deep breath leaves my mouth and I’m trying to wrap my mind around facing my biggest fear. My eyes are focused on the intermittent tiles I step across, counting down the numbers printed on them.
Thirteen feet.
Twelve feet.
Elev—
“Payback, bitch.”
A hard shove to my shoulder knocks me off balance, and those are the last words I hear. There isn’t time to catch myself or evenscreambefore going under. First, there’s the shock of the cold water rushing over my skin, but then there’s only panic as I struggle to break the surface.
Still, for all my effort, it’s no use. My limbs flail wildly as I try to grab ahold of somethingorsomeone, but nothing helps. Every move I make pulls me under deeper and deeper. It doesn’t make a difference that I’m surrounded by bodies bobbing in this deathtrap, because there are none close enough to touch.
None who notice I’m in trouble.
A large gulp of water fills my lungs and immediately feeling the situation become more dire, I fight harder, but it still doesn’t matter.
I’m going to die here, in this gigantic pool, and no one will know the difference until it’s too late. My vision starts to darken and I’m blacking out. The thought that comes to mind is of Scar. It’s my only comfort.
I’m starting to fade, but I’m aware of an arm slipping around me, looping across my ribs. Suddenly, I feel weightless and it dawns on me that I’m floating toward the surface.
Apparently, my appointment with death is now postponed.
“Move! Get the fuck out the way!”
The deep voice booms only inches from my ear. And sure enough, at his command, the crowd that’s gathered near the edge of the pool backs off.
My hands are taken, and someone pulls. Meanwhile, whoever just dove eleven feet down to save me has both hands planted on my ass, hoisting me over the edge. I collapse there on the tile, hacking up both lungs, gagging on the mouthfuls of water I swallowed before being rescued.
“What’s going on?” Mrs. C. races closer, lowering to her knees to look me over while the sound of rushing water signals me when my savior finally emerges from the pool.
I’m still too choked up to talk, so someonespeaksforme.
“She fell,” the deep voice answers, sounding winded.
Despite myself, I turn to confirm what I suspect. That the voice does, indeed, belong to West.
He’s pretty close, sitting sideways right behind me. His knee gently settles against my back. Slowly, as if suddenly aware of my gaze being set on him,hisrises to meet mine. Two emotions seem to be at war within him, if that look on his face means anything. There’s the clear presence of concern, but just beneath it, is anger.