20. Alex
Chapter 20
Alex
I ’m starting to think Alfie purposely gave me a fake key, because this stupid thing doesn’t unlock any doors on campus. I’ve lost count of how many strange looks and expressions I’ve received from other students while attempting to use this useless thing.
I wouldn’t be shocked if the students at this school believe I’m insane.
As I contemplate my next move, a group of giggling freshmen out for a late night pass by, pointing and whispering. I can already hear the new rumors forming. “Did you see her try to break into the Professor’s office? With a key that didn’t even work!”
I sigh and slump against the nearest wall, staring at the offending key in my hand. It’s a small, brass thing with an intricate design etched into the bow.
If I really want to, I can trudge across campus to confront Alfie, but that would mean admitting defeat. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned at this school, it’s that showing weakness is like blood in the water. Plus—and this is the main reason—the last time I complained to him, he just disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Such a jerk move.
I tuck the key back into my pocket. I’m stalling, putting off why I’d really come here this late at night anyway.
It took me a few days, but I’ve finally gathered enough courage to visit the pool. Well, enough to at least have my swimsuit on underneath my clothes before leaving my dorm room.
Screw it.
As I make my way toward the natatorium, my footsteps echo in the empty courtyard. The closer I get, the more a mix of anticipation and dread churns in my stomach.
The pool building looms before me, its glass walls reflecting the moonlight. I pause at the entrance, my hand hovering over the door handle.
You can’t learn to swim if you refuse to get in the water.
With a deep breath, I push the door open. The smell of chlorine hits me immediately, bringing back a flood of memories. The pool area is dimly lit, the water’s surface shimmering with an otherworldly glow. It’s eerily quiet, save for the gentle lapping of the water against the tiles. No ropes are dividing the pool tonight.
Kicking off my shoes, I walk to the edge of the pool, my bare feet cold against the tiles. I take a moment to steady myself, my toes curling over the rim. The water beckons, both inviting and terrifying. I close my eyes, trying to summon the courage I’d built up over the past few days.
I take a shaky breath, trying to calm my nerves. This is ridiculous. It’s just water.
Water you don’t know how to swim in. My mind chimes in with a reminder. I shake my head, trying to silence the intrusive thoughts. I’ve come this far. I can’t back out now.
Slowly, I peel off my outer layers, leaving them in a messy pile by the pool’s edge. The draft raises goosebumps on my exposed skin, making me shiver. Or maybe it’s the fear. I can’t tell anymore.
I sit down, letting my legs dangle in the water. It’s surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to the chill in the air outside. I take another deep breath, trying to focus on the sensation of the water lapping at my calves, rather than the panic rising in my chest.
“You can do this,” I whisper to myself, my voice echoing softly in the empty natatorium.
I grip the edge of the pool tightly, my knuckles turning white. Slowly, I lower myself into the water. My heart races, pounding against my ribcage. I force myself to take slow, deep breaths, fighting the urge to scramble back onto dry land.
“One step at a time,” I murmur to myself.
The water envelops me, rising to my neck as I cling to the edge. The warmth is comforting, almost like an embrace, but the emptiness beneath my feet sends a shiver through me.
Keeping one hand on the edge, I cautiously let go with the other, allowing my body to float slightly. The sensation is both freeing and terrifying. I close my eyes, focusing on the gentle movement of the water around me.
Suddenly, a splash echoes through the natatorium. My eyes snap open, and I instinctively grab the edge with both hands again. Scanning the water’s surface, I see ripples spreading from the far end of the pool.
“Hello?” I call out, my voice wavering. No response.
My heart rate spikes again, and I consider hauling myself out of the pool. But curiosity gets the better of me. I take a deep breath, steeling myself, and slowly begin to edge along the pool’s perimeter, keeping my hands firmly on the border.
As I move, the water pushes against me, making each advance feel like an eternity. The splash repeats, closer this time. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. In the dim light, I can just make out a dark shape moving beneath the surface, gliding effortlessly through the water.
“Who’s there?” I call out again.
The shape pauses, then changes direction, heading straight for me. Panic overwhelms me, and I scramble to pull myself out of the pool. But my wet hands slip on the tile, and I splash back into the water.
A strong arm wraps around my waist, and I let out a muffled scream as bubbles escape from my mouth. Underwater, fear and panic take over.
I’m pulled up, breaking the surface with a gasp. Coughing and sputtering, I struggle against the arm still holding me.
“Easy there,” a familiar voice says. “I’ve got you.”
I blink water from my eyes, my vision clearing. “Sylvester?” I cough as he continues to tread water effortlessly, keeping us both afloat, his wet hair plastered to his forehead.
“Let go of me,” I demand, trying to wriggle my way free. I don’t need help from a Legacy. For all I know he’ll try to drown me just for a laugh.
Sylvester’s grip tightens. “Not until you calm down. You’re going to hurt yourself thrashing around like that.”
I glare at him but stop struggling. The water laps gently around us, the only sound in the otherwise silent pool. I’m acutely aware of his arm still wrapped around my waist, the heat of his skin against mine.
“I’m fine. Just let me go.”
He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Okay, if you insist.”
Shit.
A glint sparks in his eyes, and a wave of regret washes over me. With a swift movement, he drags us to the center of the deep water, and my body freezes in fear before thrashing wildly against his grasp. His arm tightens around me, trapping me in his hold once more. “I told you to hold still,” he growls, a hint of sadistic pleasure in his voice as I struggle against him.
“What are you even doing here?” I ask.
He raises an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same thing. Midnight swims don’t exactly seem like your cup of tea, Alex.”
I glower at him. “I’m fine. Just leave me alone.”
Sylvester’s expression softens slightly, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. “You’re shaking,” he observes. “And you’re a terrible liar.”
I open my mouth to protest, but the words die in my throat. He’s right, and we both know it. The adrenaline is wearing off, leaving me trembling in the water.
“Look, I know we’re not friends. I know you hate me and the other Legacies. But,” he says, his tone gentler now, “I’m also not going to leave you out here alone. So we can either stay here until we both turn into prunes, or you can let me help you.”
I bite my lip, weighing my options. Pride wars with practicality, and for a moment, I’m tempted to choose the prune option out of sheer stubbornness.
A sudden intensity sparks in Sylvester’s gaze, but I’m too lost in my thoughts to truly notice. It’s not until I feel his thumb pulling my lip from between my teeth that I snap back to reality. His piercing eyes hold mine for a moment too long.
“Stop that,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “It’s…distracting.”
I’m suddenly acutely aware of how close we are, his arm still wrapped around my skin, our bodies pressed together in the pool.
“I’m not trying to be,” I admit and I notice how his face is suddenly a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—fear, anger, and something else I can’t quite name.
His thumb lingers against my lip, his gaze intense as if he’s weighing something in his mind, fighting with himself over whatever it is he’s feeling. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s like he’s on the edge of making a decision he doesn’t want to face.
“You’re not—” he starts, but then he hesitates, his words trailing off as though he’s struggling to find the right ones.
The confusion is still there, evident in his eyes, but he doesn’t say another word. His arm around me feels different now—less like protection and more like a reminder of the unspoken distance between us. He’s a Legacy. I refuse to be associated with them.
For a moment, we stay frozen, the tension in the air growing thicker. His eyes are still locked on mine, but I can’t shake the feeling that something’s changed, that whatever was here between us moments ago is hanging by a thread.
“Sly,” a voice calls out, followed by the faint sound of a door closing in the background.
He blinks, and the moment passes. He lets out a choppy breath and moves us forward, guiding us back to the edge of the pool with slow, deliberate movements.
“I brought you your—oh! Alex?”
I whip my head around to see Sutton standing at the head of the pool. Her eyes widen in surprise, darting between Sylvester and me. I can see the wheels turning in her head, trying to make sense of the scene before her.
“What’s going on?” she asks, her voice laced with suspicion.
Sylvester releases me abruptly, and I grab onto the edge of the pool, grateful for the support. He swims to the opposite side, pulling himself out with practiced ease, like he’s done it a thousand times before.
“Alex nearly went two for two trying to drown herself,” he explains, running a hand through his wet hair. “And I figured Chancellor Maxwell wouldn’t appreciate it if one of her students turned up dead.”
I ignore the dig and force myself to move, heading to the ladder and climbing out. Water cascades off me, and I feel exposed in my wet, clinging swimsuit, and I’m not sure why.
Sutton’s eyes thin, her gaze flicking between us as if trying to piece together a puzzle. “Riiight,” she says, drawing out the word. “And you just happened to be here at the exact moment Alex decided to take an ill-advised swim? At this hour?”
I open my mouth to speak, but Sylvester beats me to it.
“I was already at the building when I buzzed your watch,” he says smoothly, grabbing a towel from a nearby chair and draping it over his shoulders. “I can’t help it if she followed me in here.”
Sutton raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.
I bristle at his words, indignation rising in my chest. “I didn’t follow you,” I snap, wringing water from my hair. “I came here to…practice.” The truth feels clumsy on my tongue, but I forge ahead. “I didn’t even know you were here.”
Sylvester’s eyes flash with something—surprise? annoyance?—before a smirk settles across his face. “Right, because midnight is the perfect time for swim practice.”
“You would know,” I reply swiftly. He was here at this hour too, wasn’t he?
“Whatever you say,” he says, his tone maddeningly nonchalant. “But maybe next time, practice when there’s actually a lifeguard on duty.”
I clench my fists, fighting the urge to snap at him. The air between us is charged, the atmosphere from moments ago morphing into something more volatile.
Sutton clears her throat, breaking the standoff. “Right, well, as fascinating as this little midnight rendezvous is, we should probably get going, Sly.” She turns to me, with a curt nod. “Alex.”
As Sutton and Sylvester walk away, I’m left standing there, dripping and shivering. The adrenaline from my near-drowning is wearing off, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to ward off the chill that’s settling in.
The sound of the door closing echoes in the now-empty pool area, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the smooth lapping of the water.
I should leave, get back to my room and try to forget this whole bizarre incident. But my legs feel leaden, and I find myself sinking down onto the cold tile floor, my back pressed against a nearby pillar. The chlorine scent hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the lingering tension I have from the confrontation.
I replay the memory of Sylvester’s arms around me, his hand on my lip, the confusion in his eyes. Whatever I thought I’d seen there was probably just a product of my oxygen-deprived brain.
A fresh shiver runs through me, and I realize I need to move. Slowly, I push myself to my feet, my muscles protesting. Gathering my things, I cast one last glance at the pool.
Learning to swim, it’s like being stuck in a toxic relationship. But probably worse.