I couldn’t believe how long it had been since I swam. Eleven days. When had I ever let a busy schedule keep me from swimming before? My entire body sighed a breath of relief as I dived into the water. Muscles that I didn’t know were tight relaxed as I began my strokes.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed—it felt like minutes but it could’ve been hours—before I stopped to rest against the wall. I watched as the water dripped off my arms and pooled onto the cement. A shadow falling over that puddle of water made me look up. I reached to the clip on my swimsuit strap and turned off my music.
“Is this from you?” DJ asked, holding up a dollar bill I had penned the words thank you on. This was a week of paying back debts.
“Yes. I said I’d give you a dollar if you told Coach I couldn’t make the awards ceremony and you did. So there’s your dollar.”
He shook his head as he laughed. “You don’t owe me anything. I didn’t really tell Coach anything except that you wanted to talk to him. Your mom had called that same day too, so I passed on both messages.” He sat on the ground and set the dollar bill on a dry patch of cement in front of me.
“My mom called him? I thought he called her.” So much for letting me make my own choice there. She seemed to have made it for me. I couldn’t complain. I’d let her.
“Yes, I talked to her. She seems nice.”
“She is.” That was the problem with my problems. My parents were both nice. It would’ve been so much easier to tell them off if they were mean.
“Remember that day you ran into me and I dropped all the papers and you saw your name on one?” he asked.
“Yes.” That was the day he told me I was too persistent. How could I forget?
“That’s what it was about—the award you were winning. Coach had started writing notes about what he was going to include in his speech. Talking about how you never gave up on the butterfly was one of those notes. Sorry I couldn’t tell you.”
Oh. That made sense. No wonder it seemed like he had been trying to hide something. That made me feel a lot better. “It’s okay. You working today?”
“Work makes it sound like I get paid.”
“You don’t get paid?”
“You didn’t know that?”
“I didn’t. So why are you always here?”
“I help out the coaches. I want to study sports medicine. I figure it will look good on my graduate application if I have some experience.”
“I’m sure it will. So then you’re not-working tonight?”
“Yes, getting things ready for track finals tomorrow.” He ran a hand through his curls.
“You not-work too much.”
“I like to keep busy. The only one that misses me at home is my dog.”
“You have a dog?”
“I do.”
“Cute. I always wanted a dog, but my mom says they’re way too much work.”
He nodded. “They are.”
A random thought came into my mind. “Do you talk to yours?”
“My dog?”
“Yes.” I couldn’t read his expression.
“Doesn’t everybody?”
I was being stupid. DJ was definitely not Heath Hall. He wasn’t even in high school. “Do you know what time it is?”
“After six.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. It was late. I’d told my mom I’d be home for dinner.
“You lost track of time again?”
I smiled. “What makes you think that?”
He pointed to my phone sitting on the cement. “You should do a timed playlist. When it’s over, you’ll know it’s time to get out.”
“You, DJ, are the smartest man in the world.”
His dark skin darkened with a blush, and he messed with his glasses.
I pushed myself out of the pool. When he jumped back, I realized he didn’t want to get wet. Being a swimmer, I’d seen that evasion move a lot. I was tempted to hug him, like I was tempted to do with everyone who reacted that way. I stopped myself, though. He and Amelia were . . . something. Instead, I shook my head and sent a spray of water at him.
“Hey!” He laughed and pulled his sweater away from his chest with two fingers.
The dollar bill now sat on the cement between us and we both stared at it.
“I can’t take that,” he said.
“It’ll bring someone luck.” I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around me.
“I thought that was a penny.”
“Then a dollar should be one hundred times luckier, right?” I said.
“It’s hard for me to leave money on the ground. I feel like it’s me telling the universe that I don’t need any more.”
I smiled, and as I walked away said, “Then you better pick it up. Maybe you’ll get lucky.” Did I really just say that to the guy Amelia liked? I hadn’t meant for it to sound so flirty. Maybe it hadn’t. I needed to stop.
Five minutes before the bell rang the next morning, I walked into class to find Jackson sitting at my desk. “You have information,” he said when I stood beside him, waiting for him to move. “And I need it.”
“You need my notes for algebra? I have horrible handwriting, but they’re yours if you want them.”
“No, I don’t need your notes for algebra. What do I look like, a slacker?”
I tilted my head and evaluated him. He had on a red polo shirt and his hair was combed for once . . . or at least the curls were a bit more tamed. He actually looked like he was ready to deliver a speech.
“Fine. I already know you think I’m a slacker, but that’s not the information I need.”
“Well, spit it out, Holt. The bell is about to ring, and Mr. Kingston does not like your style of humor.”
“He belongs to your Jack-haters club?”
“Membership information is confidential.”
His eyes twinkled with a smile that didn’t reach his lips. “Cider. Where did you get it?”
I laughed under my breath. “That’s the information you want? Well, you’re out of luck. That’s a secret I’m taking to the grave. Now out of my chair.” For some reason, I didn’t want to tell him about the seedy shop just outside of town. It was like I had some sort of leverage over him and I was hanging on to that.
He stood, then kind of whined the words, “Why? You don’t even like cider.”
“Because now I own you.”
It had been a joke, but the way he raised his eyebrows made me blush.
I shoved him and said, “Oh, stop. If you can joke around, so can I.”
“People expect it from me. Things like that from you sound like an invitation.”
I blushed even more.
“See?” he said. “I can deliver a joke.” He leaned close, then said, “You will tell me where to find that cider eventually.”
When he left, I looked around and realized practically everybody was in their seats and staring at me. I quickly sat down. Kendra, the girl who sat next to me said, “When did you two get together?”
“We’re not together.”
“That was a lot of flirting.”
“Jackson is like that with everyone.”
“I wasn’t talking about Jackson.”
Right. She was talking about my behavior, not his. That shut me up.