Chapter 12 Ivy
IVY
Thankfully, I’m heading to the last period of the day.
Unfortunately, my schedule change never came through, so it’s still PE for now.
Apparently, they have plenty of other extracurricular classes that I could’ve signed up for like choir, auto tech, or even archery.
So hopefully I can switch out sooner than later.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I mumble as I spot Luca across the natatorium. If he has PE this period too, I’m definitely out. I’ve already had four classes with him and had to sit at lunch with his arrogant gape on me. The dude really needs to take lessons from his much more tolerable brother.
As soon as I spot the coach, I inform him, “I’m not supposed to be in this class.”
He glances at me then looks over his roster. “Name?”
“Ivy Walker. It’s on my schedule, but it was a mistake. I’m switching out.”
He drops the clipboard onto his desk. “Principal Guidry said you took state your junior year. We’re in a different division, but I’m sure you can still hold your own.”
First Brooke and now Coach. Damn principal must run her mouth a lot.
“I’m not competing. Hence why I want to be switched out of this class. I don’t need any more PE credits to graduate.”
“Belgrave has a set-up for student athletes to have extra time during class to practice. Even if the athletes don’t need the credits specifically for physical ed, it still counts towards electives.
” He reclines back, hands folded on his desk.
“But I’m curious, why would you stop competing your senior year? ”
I go for the easy excuse and point at my shoulder. “Injury. I had surgery over the summer.”
Coach looks at my shoulder then back at me. “Did it not heal correctly? We have a clinic that the team goes to if you want a second opinion.”
“I don’t. I’m out for the season. I wasn’t able to train all summer.”
He looks surprised as he asks, “You don’t even want to try? Muscle memory is there. And with the condition you had to be in to place, you should be able to bounce right back.”
“No, I’m going to switch out.”
His disappointment doesn’t bother me. I can even picture how disappointed my old coach would be, but it changes nothing about my decision.
“If you change your mind, we’d love to have you on the team or just in the class. Get an easy credit.”
There’s nothing easy about this course. I just head over to the benches but don’t get there because a big lug is blocking the path. Leave it to Luca to annoy me when I’m at my limit.
“What?” I ask with a little more frustration than I want to display.
“Just wanted to ask if you’ve decided,” he states coolly.
“Decided what?”
“Option one of getting that swimsuit or option two of stripping down.”
Ugh. I don’t care if he knows he infuriates me. Because he does. “Neither.” I wave over the pool. “But here’s a whole-ass pool just for you to use and you don’t have to trespass.”
He shifts in front of me. And I see the glint in his eye that worries me. “I’m tired of getting wet without you. So, option three it is.”
And before I realize it, he has his arms wrapped around me. I struggle to get loose, but his grip is locked, and he jumps into the pool before I can get free.
Even when we plunge into the water, his grip stays clenched firmly around me.
I struggle to get free to swim to the surface, but he has a hold on me.
I manage to shift away from him a little, but it’s not enough.
He’s still holding on to me, and I swear I see a smile on his face.
What the actual fuck is this guy’s deal?
I slam my palm into his nose as hard as I can before he finally releases me and I swim to the surface.
He emerges a few seconds after I do, and I take another swing at him. But his arm blocks me from knocking him in his face again. But apparently my first hit landed because there’s blood dripping from his nose.
I swim to the side, cursing him as I feel the stiffness in my shoulder.
I climb out of the pool and strip my drenched blazer off before unfastening the tie and kicking off my tennis shoes and socks.
When I watch Luca climb out of the water with an amused expression on his bloody face, my anger surges.
I attempt to go after him again. Just one more good hit is all I need.
And I don’t know what is making me madder, the fact that I don’t get the chance to deck him or the fact that he forced me in the pool. The precise place I don’t want to be.