Eyes closed, I let my breath come back to me, and only when I was ready, a little more composed than before, I left too.
The Almanac Water Sports Team was waiting in the lobby. Coach glowered at me and grumbled about my being late—by a damn minute—and I ignored him, just ducked my chin and hustled onto the bus with everyone else.
The journey home, including the flight, was uneventful, and we made it back in time to have the rest of the afternoon to ourselves.
When I saw Peter waiting in the car in the parking lot, my smile didn’t feel as fragile as it might have. Until I saw Maria waiting in another, waiting on Adam.
Before he got down off the bus, he shot me a look, and the pain in his eyes, the torment and the need combined together, created a toxic fuel that pained me.
I stared at him, trying not to show much on my face, but wanting to imbue the look with what I felt.
He closed his eyes, ducked his head, and left me behind.
I was the last one off the bus, intentionally, and by the time I got down, everyone had started driving off.
Purposely, I didn’t look in Adam’s direction because I knew Maria would have her octopus hands all over him just to get at me. But Coach helped me out.
He arched a brow. “Your times were impeccable.”
I shrugged, not really caring at the moment about the pool, which was pretty unheard of for me.
He reached over, grabbed my shoulder, and muttered, “Nothing’s forever.”
I tensed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re here now. Next year? You’re going to be in Stanford. Not long now.”
Biting my bottom lip, I muttered, “That doesn’t help me now.”
“No,” he agreed. “But let it fire you in the pool.”
His candor took me aback. Coach always seemed to forget we were human. To him, we were athletes in need of molding, in need of whipping into shape. For him to recognize we had faults and needs, wants and desires, definitely surprised me. Enough so that my reply was gruff, “Don’t you think I am already?”
He sighed. “Can’t complain. You’re the best we’ve got. The best this club has ever seen, Thea. I just—don’t let your heart get in the way of your head.
“You have a good thing going right now. You live in a nice place, somewhere a damn sight nicer than you were before. You got a car waiting on you to drive you to that nice home, a good school, the best scholarship money can buy, and a family at your back that will give you everything you need until Stanford takes over.”
“Is there a point to this?” I whispered, eyes on the ground.
“Yeah. Don’t screw up a good thing.” He shook my shoulder a little, then mumbled, “Go on, get. See you here tomorrow at six.”
I nodded even though the damage was already done, then trudged off to Peter. He was waiting outside the car by now, and I smiled when he opened his arms and welcomed me back.
I hugged him, squeezing tight. Appreciating him so much at that moment.
Probably more than he’d ever know.
By the time we made it back to the house, I knew he was aware I wasn’t myself. He kept trying to talk to me, to bring me out of my shell, but it wasn’t working.
I just needed some downtime, I figured. Plus, I had to work up the courage to ask Janice for help in getting me the morning after pill.
Tugging on my lip as I pondered how this was the morning after the night before, I quickly googled how long I had to get the pill and sighed when I saw I had seventy-two hours.
Not that I was going to risk it.
When I made it back to the house, it wasn’t unusual when I wasn’t greeted. No one had been waiting to hear about my races, so that meant the house was empty—not surprising. It was a weekend, and both Robert and Anna had busy social lives. I knew we’d be discussing my races come dinnertime.
Taking advantage of the empty house, I headed straight for the kitchen.
The scent of bread and some kind of stock filtered through the air. I could easily discern a myriad number of herbs, and I let my nose guide me as I wandered into the room that was anything but the heart of the home.
Sterile, with industrial stainless steel everywhere, from the