Page 53 of Courting Clemson

How the hell was I supposed to know any of that? Since I had been on scholarship funding my entire time at this school, it wasn’t something I ever had to concern myself with. I couldn’t even find the damn office at first and circled the administration building twice before locating the little closet they called their office.

Now I was sweaty and hot and frustrated as hell. I slumped down on a ledge of the big fountain that stood proudly in the student quad and stared at the ground.

At the moment, I was as close to rock bottom as I had ever felt. So many of these stupid things I was having to deal with were a direct result of my own laziness and denial about my grades. If I had handled things earlier, I wouldn’t be in any of these predicaments, so I had no one to blame but myself.

That meant I shouldn’t expect anyone to swoop in and fix it for me either. I’d made the mess. I’d clean it up.

I hiked across the school grounds to the parking lot and scanned the rows of cars. Where the hell did I park? When I spotted my car, I headed toward it and let my mind wander back to the conversation I’d had this morning with Brian.

Seemed like he was a morning person, which I liked. The guy was stacking up the checkmarks in the pro column on my mental green-flag list. We set up tentative plans for our next date the following night. He said there was a comedy club he thought I’d enjoy, and if he could get away from work early enough, we’d have dinner before.

It made sense why a lot of women wouldn’t like this kind of uncertain schedule. I was a pretty flexible person by nature, and reminding myself of the cash incentive made it all fine. But if that big factor wasn’t part of the equation, I completely understood how it would get old.

I had to discuss payment with him no matter how uncomfortable it would be. Otherwise, all of this stress was for nothing. If I didn’t make the finance deadline, I’d be out until spring semester. At that point, I might as well throw in the towel completely and go home.

Forget school, forget swimming, and forget Luke, too.

There were big feelings of guilt where he was concerned. I didn’t like keeping this major part of my life from him. It felt like lying, even though it wasn’t outright doing so. But I was being deceitful, and no matter how I tried to sugarcoat it, that was what it was. And he didn’t deserve to be caught up in my shitstorm.

But I couldn’t bring myself to tell him what was going on. And I couldn’t force myself to cut him loose either. He had so many qualities I wanted in a boyfriend. Maybe I’d ask Solei for advice on balancing the sugar dating with personal relationships without going into too much detail. Though I probably could guess what her wisdom would be. Who in their right mind would try to juggle both?

Well, I always did like a challenge.

As I headed across campus to the aquatic center, my mind raced. There wouldn’t be any reprieve either until I had this financial obligation settled. Once I dove into the pool, it would all wash away. I was so thankful I had practice today. I planned on hitting it hard and letting go of this incessant stress for a few hours.

Unfortunately, practice wasn’t the relief I was hoping for. My head coach called me into their office while we were stretching, and I got another ass-chewing about letting my grades slip. I wanted to just tell the man I’d heard enough about the situation already, but I respectfully listened and agreed to what he was saying when prompted.

I could be an obedient little puppy when necessary, but it went against every natural cell in my body to do so. And where had they been when I really needed their help? It all seemed like too little too late. Too little concern, and way too late to actually help me fix it.

When he finally finished, he asked me, “So what’s your plan?”

The tension in the air grew while he stared directly at me, waiting for an answer.

“Coach? Plan for what exactly?” I asked quietly.

“For school. For the team. For the whole mess you’ve got here,” he snapped, making me feel like an idiot.

“You have to know this team is everything to me. You know I give one hundred and ten percent, even at practice.” For the first time, enough emotion backed up in my throat that my voice cracked. “I’m doing everything humanly possible to come up with the money for this semester’s tuition. I have three days left to post the total to my account.”

“Do you have the money?” he asked, surprising me with his intrusive question.

Did I owe him an answer here? The way he was burrowing into my soul with his intense stare made me feel like I did. The rational part of my brain—which was getting buried under a mountain of nervous energy at the moment—told me it wasn’t his damn business.

“I will,” I said, not able to hold his gaze.

“Farsay, be real with me right now. Am I about to lose one of my best swimmers?” he barked, and I honestly worried I’d shed tears.

“No, Coach. I’m taking care of it,” I croaked while white-knuckling the goggles in my fist. I’d crush the plastic if I didn’t ease up.

“Can’t your parents pay your tuition? I probably could get in hot water for asking you that, but I need to know what my lineup is going to look like for next season,” he said while gripping the back of his neck.

This conversation wasn’t helping either of us, just adding more worry. Couldn’t he see that?

Eventually, after skirting around questions about my parents’ financial health, he dismissed me from his office. Of course, everyone gave me a long stare-down as I crossed the deck to my assigned lane.

I checked the board for my workout and dove into the tepid water.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I’d worked out as hard as I could and let my mind have a break while I swam. If I could live underwater, I would. The real world was shut out beneath the surface, and it had been my happiest place from childhood on. My parents used to get furious when they would scold me or nag me and I would dive under the water so I wouldn’t have to listen to their shit. I smiled remembering that as I got out of my car and grabbed my bag from the back seat.

---