Chapter 20
“Surprise!” Willa and Nova shout the second I walk through the door, as if they’ve been standing there, staring at every person who comes into the pool, just waiting for it to be me.
“What are— Why are—” I shake my head in disbelief, then point my finger accusingly. “You said you were getting donuts!”
“We did!” Willa chirps.
Nova points over her shoulder. “They’re over— Hey! Don’t eat them all, you heathens!”
Logan freezes, wrist-deep in a pink bakery box, his eyes wide. Beside him, Grant snorts. Behind them both, Nox keeps chewing, not bothering to wipe the glaze from his lips as they curl up into a closed-mouth grin that somehow looks even smugger than the toothy ones I’m used to.
“I turn my back for one second,” Nova mutters.
“Come on,” Logan whines, then adds, as if this single word is enough explanation, “Donuts.”
Nova sighs. He must take it as permission, because before I can even blink, he’s groaning, half the donut I didn’t even see him swipe from the box already in his mouth with one huge bite.
I cover a laugh. Guys are just built differently.
“You might as well take one too,” Nova says, glancing at Grant, the only polite one of the three. “But no more after that. These are for Clara.”
“In what lifetime is Clara going to eat a dozen donuts on her own?” Nox drawls before shoving the last bite into his mouth.
When he goes for another, Nova runs over and slaps his hand away. She snatches the box out from underneath the boys with a hard look and pointedly closes the lid. “You’ve clearly never seen her at 2 a.m. the night before a biology final.”
He scoffs. “Finals aren’t until December.”
“My point stands.”
“A dozen donuts?” Logan appraises me appreciatively. “Really?”
“She’s exaggerating,” I say hastily, cutting Nova a sharp look.
She just snorts. Willa rolls her lips into her mouth to hide her grin.
Traitors.
Everyone knows that what happens during finals week, stays during finals week. I was under duress. It doesn’t count. And they know I have a weakness for French crullers.
Does sisterhood mean nothing to these people?
“So, what are we doing here anyway?” Willa swoops in with the save just as my cheeks are starting to warm.
“Yeah.” Nova’s green eyes brighten. “What exactly do the two of you do here every week?”
Logan snickers at the accidental innuendo, his mind frequently in the gutter.
I cut him a frank stare and quickly jump in.
“We, um, we…” Except what am I supposed to say?
We have tea parties? We race on unicorn floaties?
We argue and compete and do everything we can think of to keep a distance between us when really, all I’ve been able to think about for the past week is what that wasabi would’ve tasted like on his lips?
“We have swim lessons,” Nox steps in, his voice bored.
“Is that what you’re calling it?” Logan quips.
Nox ignores him. “And I needed a little help with today’s lesson, which is—” Not even looking, Nox uses one arm to shove Logan as hard as he can.
The hockey player doesn’t see it coming.
The grin on his lips disappears as he careens off-balance and stumbles to the side before crashing into the pool. “Falling.”
Logan sputters to the surface. “What the fuck, man? My donut!”
Nox rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy you a box.”
“I’m holding you to that. Boston Creme. Baker’s dozen.”
Nova makes a gagging sound.
Before the situation devolves, I cut in.
“What exactly are we playing?” I squeak, knowing there’s some sort of game involved. My heart’s already in my throat at the thought of the water enveloping me so rapidly, of losing my control over the descent.
Nox meets my gaze, his own glittering. “Chicken.”
Aww, hell.
Five minutes later, I’m on his shoulders, trying to ignore the heat pooling deep in my gut as his fingers sink into my thighs.
There’s too much bare skin. My ass cheeks.
His shoulders. My feet. His obliques. That wavy black hair I’ve been fantasizing about touching for weeks is tickling my inner thighs and it’s just too much.
“Clara.” His deep voice pulls me back. Nerves swarm across my chest, down my arms, to my toes, anticipation and dread weaving a potent mix. Is it the pool? Is it him? Which fall am I more afraid of? “You ready?”
No. “Yes.”
His grip tightens. My eyes practically roll into the back of my head as I smother a groan. Get it together, Hayes.
He approaches Nova and Logan. I hold my arms out, bracing for impact. Nova and I are about the same size, but I don’t like that competitive gleam in her eyes. She is Nox’s sister, after all. Winning is in their blood. And I know her. She’s not afraid to play dirty.
We crash together. I grab her hands. She clutches mine. We sway and push and pull, neither gaining ground as the boys move with us, keeping us balanced. This goes on for a few minutes, water sloshing, laughter ringing, until Logan shouts, “Now!”
Nova unhooks her feet from his sides and pushes them into Nox’s chest at the exact same moment Logan hooks his leg around Nox’s ankle.
It’s a practiced move they’ve clearly done before, and still, Nox almost saves us.
If he wanted to, he could’ve. I know it.
But that’s not the goal of the game. He doesn’t care about beating them.
What he really, truly cares about is training me.
So down we go, falling sideways together, his hands still clinging to my legs as the water drags me under.
Panic claws at my chest, a wild beast suddenly untamed.
I close my eyes on instinct, adrift within the dark.
Bubbles pop and push along my skin. I kick and thrash.
There’s nothing but water, so much water.
Then hands find my biceps and drag me up.
I break through the surface with a gasp, blinking the droplets away, willing my pounding heart to calm.
Nox stares at me, waiting, his brows drawn.
Are you okay? The question is written in the downturn of his lips, the strain pulling at the corners of his eyes, the rapid way his gaze flits across my face, studying every crinkle, every bend.
I swallow and nod. I’m okay.
The moment extends, just a second too long. I turn my face to the side, breaking it. Nox drops his arms. Completely unaware of what passed between us, Logan raises his arms in the air, celebrating the victory. Behind him, Nova stares.
It’s not good. Not bad. Her face gives nothing away, but my chest pinches just the same.
I face Willa next. She kicks my ass with her long arms. I flop back into the pool, alert, alarmed, adrift until Nox’s touch brings me back.
Again, Nova is watching.
Round after round, fight after fight, I feel the weight of her curious attention.
When the chicken fighting eventually gives way to Logan, Nox, and Grant taking turns trying to shove each other under the water, she hooks her arm around my waist and drops her head on my shoulder, saying nothing, not needing to.
I feel it in the warmth of her smile while she watches him laugh with his friends, the little squeeze she places against my ribs, the quiet sigh she can’t hold back.
Happiness.
Pleasure.
Plotting.
Logan challenges Grant and Nox to a belly flop contest, which has the whole pool complex chanting at the diving board in about ten minutes.
At one point, Coach Fleishman sticks his head out of the locker room to yell, “Just don’t break your neck!
” Some of the other guys from the swim team join in.
I hand out donuts to the girls who sit on the bleachers with us and help judge until the boys pull us into the fray.
If either Nova or Willa truly understood the depths of my terror, if they had any idea why I’m afraid of the water, I know they would’ve held out with me.
They would have stood guard until the very end, no matter the taunting and teasing and the peer pressure.
But they don’t. I didn’t tell them. I let them think it was as simple as my not knowing how to swim, a dismissible fear now that they’re here and they’ve seen me act capable in the water.
So really, I have no one to blame but myself as the girls get lured one by one over to the diving pool, until I’m the only one on the outskirts with what feels like a thousand eyes watching me, everyone waiting for me to get in too.
“Clara! Clara! Clara!”
The chants tug at me like hands, until I find myself standing, walking, climbing.
Every inch of my body shakes as I shuffle down the wobbling board, my heart leaping into my throat at every bounce, every sway.
It can’t take more than a minute or two, but it feels as if I’m up there for an eternity, staring over the edge of my toes at the rippling water below.
It’s three feet.
Three freaking feet.
But it’s so much more than that. It’s the release, the plunge, the sense of flying, the weight of crashing, things I haven’t let myself feel in over two years.
Nox emerges from the water.
I don’t need to ask, don’t need to say it. He already knows. He’s the only one who does. Understanding lights his gaze as he spreads his arms wide in silent offering. I hold on to that stalwart look in his eyes. I jump, no longer afraid, because I know he’s there to catch me.
“You’re good for him, you know,” Nova says later in the locker room.
“What?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
From my other side, Willa leans in close.
“You’re. Good. For. Him,” she repeats loudly, calling my ass out.
I elbow her in the ribs. “Shut up.”
Willa grins.
“You are, though,” Nova presses again, not ready to let it go.
“I haven’t seen him like this in ages, so open, so carefree.
He used to be like that all the time, when we were kids, before his swimming got more serious and his competitions got more intense.
I didn’t notice at first how all that extra training was hardening him.
If I did, I’m not sure I would have left.
But I moved east with my mom after freshman year of high school.
He stayed behind in California. When I saw him again that Christmas, the change hit me like a slap in the face.
He was only fifteen that fall, but he beat a world-record time during practice and it changed everything.
Suddenly, all three of them—him, my dad, his coach—they were all seeing gold.
There wasn’t room for anything else.” She shrugs, blinking away the memory playing behind her eyes.
“Anyway, all I’m saying is it’s nice to see him have fun again in the water, to let himself relax.
And whatever he’s been helping you figure out, it seems like he’s been good for you, too.
I think maybe you might be good for each other. ”
The underlying implication is about as subtle as a foghorn, in typical Nova fashion, but I don’t take the bait.
I’m not interested in discussing whatever the hell is going on between me and her brother—with her, yes, but most importantly, with myself.
That land mine can stay buried as long as possible.
I don’t think I’ll be ready to face it until I finally take that inevitable wrong step and hear the ominous click.
But there’s something else I owe them. The truth. They’re two of the best things that ever happened to me, and I want them to know I trust them, even with this.
“I can swim,” I confess softly, staring at the towel in my hands, suddenly absorbed by the looping neon threads.
“Yeah, we know,” Nova says.
“We just saw you.”
“No.” I shake my head, squeeze the towel for strength, and look up. “I’ve always been able to swim, since I was a kid. That’s not what Nox has been helping me with.”
They share a quick glance.
I breathe in slowly, my heart pounding as I take a second to absorb the look in their eyes, one set green, one set blue, both brimming with trust, with awareness, as if they’ve been expecting some sort of confession.
“I was in a car crash the summer before my senior year. My friend and I were at a party. We were both wasted. We were being reckless and stupid. There was a storm. We spun out on the way home. The car flipped and smashed into a tree. She died. But I—I got thrown during the crash and landed in a reservoir. Someone must’ve pulled me from the water.
Someone saved me. But I have no idea who.
All I remember is drowning, and ever since that night I haven’t been able to get back in the water without reliving it.
That’s what Nox has been helping me with.
Not learning how to swim, but learning how to move past the fear.
I didn’t mean to lie to you. I just didn’t know how to face it, any of it.
I still don’t, but every day I’m a little less afraid and that’s got to count for something. Right?”
It’s a weak finish, but it’s all I’ve got.
I hold my breath, the information sitting heavily between us.
Nova breaks first. “Oh, Clara.”
“We’re so sorry,” Willa murmurs into my hair, her arms already coming around me.
They cocoon me in acceptance, in love, in understanding.
Tears seep from my eyes. Gratitude. Relief.
I wanted to believe this was how they’d respond, the same as Nox, steadfast, true, on my side.
But I didn’t, not really, not until right now, with their arms wrapped around me.
There’s no blame, no judgment. Just pure, unbreakable friendship.
It’s everything I ever wanted.
Everything I ever needed.
Everything I thought I once had, but never did—until now.
The following week, Willa and Nova walk with me to the pool, where all three of the boys are waiting.
To the outside viewer, it may seem like nothing more than an innocent, if combative, game of sharks and minnows, but it’s so much more than that.
A silent, unspoken display that they’re all in this with me now. All here. All helping.
Later that afternoon, my phone dings with a text from Nova.
Will you come with me to Nox’s meet next week? It’s at Swiftmore. My dad will be there. I need backup.
I know my response in a heartbeat. Yes.
She might be plotting. Scratch that—she’s definitely plotting. But I owe it to her, to both of them, to be there if they need me.