Chapter 28 #2
“You know, right?” She bobs her head side to side, and for a moment, I consider answering no. But that would be the old me, and I’m trying to be healthier with my relationships with my parents now. No more passive-aggressive baiting. Only honesty.
I nod.
“I do, Mom. And me too.”
She nods back, her tight mouth forming a pained smile.
I shut the door behind me and breathe in through my nose, one last reminder of the dry desert air and my mom’s sage bushes that have fizzled into tumbleweeds now that the water hasn’t been running to them for weeks.
I march straight to Rowan, and he rolls his window down as I approach. I lean into the truck, lifting myself up on my elbows so he can caress my head and tell me everything’s okay.
“I’m proud of you, baby. That was hard. I know it.” He kisses the top of my head and releases me so my heels fall back to the ground.
“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Worse than sending her to the wolves.” My eyes sting, but I don’t want to give in to the pressing need to cry today.
I won’t give up my excitement for this. If I’m going to be sad about anything, it’s going to be about Rowan driving away when he’s done moving me in.
With nothing else to tackle before our drive up north, I head back to my car and dial Rowan so we can talk on our speakers all the way to my school. The one time that there’s hardly a lick of traffic, and it’s today, the day I wish would slow down.
We park side by side in the main student lot, and then Rowan proceeds to haul all my things into my dorm room while I sort my clothes and make my bed.
My roommate is sweet. Her name is Megan, and she has curly short hair that she pulls into space buns on either side of her head.
I can tell we’re opposites in a lot of ways, but she seems to have good energy.
I choose to see opportunity in her, and the way she eyes Rowan’s ass as he stands on my bed and pins lights to the ceiling above us means she has good taste in men, too.
The afternoon cheats me more than morning did, and it’s near sunset before I have time to really accept that this is it.
My next phase. The biggest of all steps.
And Rowan and I’s first real test. If we can make it through this semester, I’ll feel solid about our future.
But I don’t pretend it won’t be hard. If anything, Rowan is surer than I am of everything.
Sometimes I wonder if he has a mirror or simply doesn’t know what he looks like.
I walk him down to the front desk, where yet another student worker checks him out, and I plant a terribly inappropriate kiss on him to claim my territory.
“Hey, I have an idea,” I say as he brushes the thousands of stray hairs that are tickling my cheeks away from my face. I’m sure I look like a wild animal. Moving is hard work.
“And what is that idea?” he asks, sliding his hands around my back and dropping them into the back pockets of my shorts so I feel his massive hands on my ass. I blush, but I also grin.
“Now that we’ve moved everything into my dorm room, let’s move it back to the truck, then you can take me home with you.”
I blink expectantly as he laughs. Of course I’m joking, but also . . . not.
“I’ll be back up here in a week. In fact,” he steps back to look at his watch as if it tells days and not just time. “I’ll be back in five days, four hours, and fourteen minutes.”
Oh wow. Maybe his watch does.
“Okay,” I grumble, sinking into his chest as he wraps his arms around me. I breathe in his scent, wanting to have a reminder of him when he’s gone.
Rowan lifts my chin and takes my top lip between his, sucking gently and holding me still for long seconds.
“I love you,” he says against my mouth.
“I love you, too,” I echo.
And I let him go, because I have to.
The first night apart wasn’t easy. I didn’t really sleep, and I was only half listening to my roommate share stories about herself. I wanted to be present, but it was hard when half of my heart was two hours away.
Last night was easier, though. Mostly because I had classes to locate before my first day, which was today.
And the sheer expanse of campus doesn’t give me much wiggle room between my courses.
My mom would be impressed if she saw the online planner I built to keep me on task—and on time—for the next three and a half months.
Plus, now that I’m overwhelmed with the reading list from two of my courses on top of the swim schedule coach just locked us into for the season, I think I’ve accumulated enough distractions to not make it a week without seeing Rowan’s face.
I just finished my first afternoon swim session, and while I didn’t feel the drive I once did, I didn’t hate the water.
Putting in the work was fun rather than an escape, and even being out of breath feels like a gold coin moment.
I think I’m finding myself again, little by little, and I’m excited to see what parts of the old me come along to join the new.
“Nice work today, Saylor. I can tell you worked hard this summer. I’m excited to see your times,” Coach Cruz says as I fish my suit out of the spinner to take home with me to finish drying.
“Actually, I owe the credit to a bunch of twelve-year-old girls.”
My coach quirks a brow, and I laugh.
“I coached a youth team this summer, and it was just easier to get my laps in with them. Some of the girls were fast,” I admit.
Her mouth curves, and she leans against her office door as she folds her arms.
“Coaching, huh?”
I nod, and the excited butterflies finally flutter in my belly.
“I really loved it. I might want to investigate doing it more after I graduate.” I shrug, expecting her to placate my whims with some positive coaching phrase. But instead, she straddles the bench and tilts her head to the side as she peers up at me.
“I know you’re only a freshman, but how do you feel about being a captain?”
The weight of that responsibility stops my heart at first, but when my pulse kicks in again, the butterflies are back.
“Would it make some of the uppers upset? I don’t want to step on toes. I respect the pecking order,” I say, though really, I think that’s all bullshit. The best should be in the pool. And I have a feeling Coach Cruz feels the same way.
“Maybe, at first. But the ones who have a problem are the ones who don’t put in the work anyhow, so maybe it’s the nudge they need to get their shit together. What do you say?”
I shut my locker and spin my key ring in my thumb, trying to imagine myself in the role. It’s easier to do than I expected. I look back at my coach and nod.
“I say hell yeah,” I say. She holds out a fist, and I pound my knuckles against hers, riding the flutter of competition in my belly all the way to my car just outside the facility.
I can’t wait to share my news with someone, but I’m not quite ready to move my mom into my go-to call list. It’s almost closing time for the garage, though I’m sure Rowan is buried underneath some car while Radiohead blasts in his ears.
It’s always been the water for me, but for him, it’s the underbelly of a vehicle.
I swipe his contact to call him, then let my phone ring on speaker as it rests on my thigh. He picks up after a half ring.
“Wow, were you just sitting there waiting for me to call?” I picture him like one of those contestants waiting to ring a buzzer.
“Uh, no. You’re in my ears,” he admits.
“Oh,” I deflate a little, and he must be able to hear it in my tone.
“But I wore EarPods just in case you called,” he quickly interjects. My smile returns, and I swipe over his name to pull up the photos of us together that I saved along with his info.
“I had my first swim day,” I say.
“And?”
“And . . . I liked it,” I say, moving the phone to my cupholder before I clip my wet hair into a knot on top of my head.
“Coach wants me to be captain,” I share.
“Babe, that’s incredible!” I hear the rolling sound of his board across the garage floor, and I picture him sitting up, legs outstretched, face smudged with oil.
“You might piss a few people off,” he says, his mind going right where mine did.
“Yeah, but what’s new, right?”
He chuckles and adds, “True.”
I push my key into the ignition and turn my car, but rather than the welcoming sound of the whir and rumble, I get nothing but a quick ticking sound. Like a bomb.
“What’s that?” Rowan’s ears are too good.
“Nothing. It was me. I’m sure I just . . .” I crank the engine again, and this time, the ticking stops and turns into nothing.
“Damnit,” I mutter.
“Where are you?” His tone is urgent, and I picture him pacing and searching for his keys. In fact, I’m sure that’s what he’s doing right now.
“I’m at the swim facility. It’s fine. I’m like a quarter mile from my dorm, and there are a ton of people around. I can leave it here and walk. It might be good for me to get the exercise this week anyhow. I was a bit gassed after my laps.”
I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder before locking my car and heading toward the main path that cuts through campus.
“Hmm, I doubt you were gassed. I’ll be up Friday to give it a look,” he says, and I smile, noting he moved his visit up by a day.
“Okay, so tell me about this captain gig while you walk. I want to stay on the phone with you.” I hear the wheels slide along the garage floor again through the phone, and I picture him resting the phone on his chest as he slides back under his latest project.
My voice and his passion building him the perfect bubble to escape to. I love that I’m part of his formula.
“Well, I don’t know much yet,” I start. Rowan asks me a few questions about the team, none of which I can answer after only a day, but he keeps me talking for the seven-minute walk back to my dorm.
He makes me put him on speaker to say hi to Megan, and then makes me take him off it so he can promise to do dirty things to me on his first visit.