The Golden Boys: Chapter 16

Today’s been quieter than expected. I mean, sure the Golden boys’ followers are still on a hundred—whispering insults, purposely bumping me in the halls—but the boys themselves have absolutely nothing for me.

Which should come as a relief, but instead, I’m paranoid as hell.

I make it through lunch with no drama, and I’m admittedly confused. There’s been no commentary about my house or my hood. No petty jabs about my drunk-off-his-ass father. The only thing I can come up with for the fight being taken out of West is the weirdness between us over the weekend.

Friday, the kiss that practically made my underwear catch fire.

Saturday, West shielding me from my dad.

Because I’ve been around Mike all my life, I know he only intended to get in my face about defying his BS rules. No, that’s nowhere near okay, but I knew I wasn’t in danger. However, to West it looked like more than that. It looked like my raving lunatic of a father was about to haul off and hit me. That is, until my knight in blindingly white Nikes stepped in.

Apparently, no one’s allowed to push me around but him. But who knows what goes on inside that sick bastard’s mind?

I’m the last one to make it into the girl’s locker room to change, and every set of eyes shifts to me when I walk in. I bypass all the chatter and head straight for Lexi, seated at the end of a bench, already wearing her bathing suit.

I’m dreading this for too many reasons to name, but I need the grade. Failure is not an option.

“I vote we skip and go smoke a joint behind the athletic building,” she suggests.

“Don’t tempt me.”

Right after answering, I grab the bathing suit from my duffle bag. Jules loaned me hers, seeing as how I’ve never had reason to own one.

I disappear inside a stall to change, then return to close my things in the locker. It’s not lost on me that Parker’s girls haven’t taken their eyes off me once. I think it’s pretty safe to say whatever they’ve been discussing since I walked in is likely about me.

Still, I can’t find it in my heart to regret what I did to her, their queen. She tried to take me down, so it only seemed fair that I do the same to her.

Not my fault I succeeded and she didn’t.

Lexi stands when I start toward the door. Already, the heavy scent of chlorine is freaking me out. I’ve avoided situations such as this my entire life, but Cypress Prep has a knack for shoving me into the worst possible scenarios, which I couldn’t hate more.

The heavy door slams behind Lexi and me, and I observe my surroundings. Pale turquoise tile covers the floor, nearly matching the color of the water perfectly. Gigantic windows make up the upper half of the two-story addition off from the school’s main building. Bright lights hang from the metal beams above and I accept that this will be the setting of my nightmare.

“You okay?” Lexi asks. “You’re shaking.”

I glance down at my hands before tightly crossing both arms over my chest.

“I’m cool,” I lie.

She shoots me a weird look and then smiles. “If you say so.”

Our gazes shift to Mrs. C. as she begins explaining what’s expected of us. However, she only has my attention for the fraction of a second because the door to the boy’s locker room has just burst open.

Like every teenage girl’s wet dream just spilled into reality, out walks more bronzed skin, ink, and muscle than any girl can reasonably handle. The Golden boys and a handful of their teammates line up on the opposite side of the pool and I swear the temp shot up ten degrees. Their quiet conversation lowers to a hum now that they’ve joined the rest of us, but a smile still ghosts on West’s lips.

Of course, I’ve singled him out from the rest.

His dark hair is lightly tousled on top of his head like always. But without a shirt to cover the superhuman physique marked with the dark images adorning his arms and chest, I barely notice much else.

“See something you like?” Lexi teases, letting me know I’m not being as discreet as I think.

“Not at all,” I lie. Truth is, I see plenty I like. Just sucks he’s so ugly on the inside.

Before averting my gaze, I watch West scan the line where me and the rest of the girls have lined up. There’s a slow burning fire in the pit of my stomach, and with it comes a growing need to know for sure I’m the one he’s searching for. It’s sick and stupid to need confirmation, but I do. In fact, the second his eyes land on me, I glance away, satisfied knowing I was right.

Kissing him has obviously screwed with my head. I’ve thought about it more than once, and what’s worse is that I know it meant nothing to either of us. It was a power play. One that proved his point more than I’d ever let him know.

My eyes are locked squarely on Mrs. C. now, but it isn’t easy to do. Not with him standing on the other side.

“Okay, jump in and warm up,” Mrs. C. announces. A cacophony of screams and splashes follows. Lexi joins the others, but I’ve decided it’s probably time to speak up about my limitations.

The whole ‘I can’t swim’ thing might present a few problems.

With most in the pool, the group has thinned enough that I notice Parker seated in a chair near the wall. Her ankle is neatly bandaged, her crutches are propped beside her, and she’s staring right at me. I probably shouldn’t, but I smirk at her, just to make it known that I regret absolutely nothing.

Mrs. C. glances up when I approach, and I note the weary smile that flashes across her face. I’m guessing she’s still on the fence about whether Parker’s accident really was one.

Nervous, I pick at the end of my braid as I begin to speak.

“Can I … talk to you for a sec?” I force the words from my mouth.

Her brow quirks. “Of course. Always.”

Breathing deep, I just spit it out. “I can’t swim. I had a … thing happen when I was a kid, so I never learned.”

Her head tilts slowly. “You aren’t the first newbie I’ve had,” she shares. “It just means your milestones will be a little different than the others’. Instead of working on timing and technique, you’ll have until the end of the unit to learn how to actually swim. I’ll need to see you get from end to end to earn a passing grade. I can work with you, but would you prefer that I assign a classmate to help instead?”

I hated the idea of anyone having to babysit me, but especially a classmate.

“I’ll figure it out,” I answer, offering a tense smile right after.

She passes another weary look my way, then goes back to taking attendance on her tablet. Meanwhile, I turn to hightail it back to the shallow end.

A deep breath leaves my mouth and I’m trying to wrap my mind around facing my biggest fear. My eyes are focused on the intermittent tiles I step across, counting down the numbers printed on them.

Thirteen feet.

Twelve feet.

Elev—

“Payback, bitch.”

A hard shove to my shoulder knocks me off balance, and those are the last words I hear. There isn’t time to catch myself or even scream before going under. First, there’s the shock of the cold water rushing over my skin, but then there’s only panic as I struggle to break the surface.

Still, for all my effort, it’s no use. My limbs flail wildly as I try to grab ahold of something or someone, but nothing helps. Every move I make pulls me under deeper and deeper. It doesn’t make a difference that I’m surrounded by bodies bobbing in this deathtrap, because there are none close enough to touch.

None who notice I’m in trouble.

A large gulp of water fills my lungs and immediately feeling the situation become more dire, I fight harder, but it still doesn’t matter.

I’m going to die here, in this gigantic pool, and no one will know the difference until it’s too late. My vision starts to darken and I’m blacking out. The thought that comes to mind is of Scar. It’s my only comfort.

I’m starting to fade, but I’m aware of an arm slipping around me, looping across my ribs. Suddenly, I feel weightless and it dawns on me that I’m floating toward the surface.

Apparently, my appointment with death is now postponed.

“Move! Get the fuck out the way!”

The deep voice booms only inches from my ear. And sure enough, at his command, the crowd that’s gathered near the edge of the pool backs off.

My hands are taken, and someone pulls. Meanwhile, whoever just dove eleven feet down to save me has both hands planted on my ass, hoisting me over the edge. I collapse there on the tile, hacking up both lungs, gagging on the mouthfuls of water I swallowed before being rescued.

“What’s going on?” Mrs. C. races closer, lowering to her knees to look me over while the sound of rushing water signals me when my savior finally emerges from the pool.

I’m still too choked up to talk, so someone speaks for me.

“She fell,” the deep voice answers, sounding winded.

Despite myself, I turn to confirm what I suspect. That the voice does, indeed, belong to West.

He’s pretty close, sitting sideways right behind me. His knee gently settles against my back. Slowly, as if suddenly aware of my gaze being set on him, his rises to meet mine. Two emotions seem to be at war within him, if that look on his face means anything. There’s the clear presence of concern, but just beneath it, is anger.

As if he’s furious because me nearly drowning has been an inconvenience.

I face forward again, still struggling for air.

“I watched for her to resurface, but … she never did,” he continues, telling a bold-faced lie. Either he’s just made a monumentally horrible guess, or … is he protecting them? Lying to cover for his cunt of a girlfriend?

“Good work, Golden,” Mrs. C. declares. “You likely just saved her life.”

Lexi settles in front of me and this is when I realize she’d been the one who pulled me out a moment ago.

“Shit, Blue. You okay?”

“Language, Rodriquez,” Mrs. C. reminds her.

“My bad, but … dude, you almost died,” Lexi says, stating the obvious.

Her very accurate depiction of what just took place has me scanning the small crowd. And right there, flanking Parker at either side, are Heidi and Ariana. All three are grinning, satisfied with having nearly killed me.

One word spoken as I was shoved into the pool comes back to my memory.

‘Payback’. The attacker said ‘payback.’

Ariana flashes her middle finger at me, and their cackling grows louder, but apparently not loud enough to catch Mrs. C’s attention. Instead, she’s focused on dialing down to the office, asking the nurse to come check me out.

“I’m fine,” I assure her. “Really. You don’t need to do that.”

She casts an uncertain glance toward me, but after giving me a quick onceover, concedes.

“Are you lightheaded at all? Feeling out of sorts?”

I shake my head to that question. “No. None of that.”

That answer apparently satisfies her, because she dials the number back a moment later, letting the nurse know her assistance won’t be needed. Then she casts a look toward West.

“Golden, I think I have a special assignment for you this term,” she says with a grin. “Ms. Riley here has until the end of this unit to learn how to swim. And seeing as how you’ve just proven you’re capable of handling her, I believe you’d be just the man for the job. What do you say?”

“Wait. What?” I croak, still struggling to find my voice.

“You need to master this by the end of the marking period, and I trust West will look after you. He’s a good kid,” she adds, and I can’t fight the scowl that twists my mouth.

“So, what do you say West?” Mrs. C. asks.

My eyes shift to him again, staring as he searches for an answer.

“Sure,” he says begrudgingly, clearly unhappy with his new assignment.

“Good. It’s settled then,” Mrs. C. adds, standing to her feet again. “Can you look after Ms. Riley for a few minutes? Make sure she pulls it together?”

I listen as she asks, wondering just how much West hates me right now.

When he finally does answer with a polite, “Sure,” there’s a hint of frustration hidden within it.

Mrs. C. turns toward the onlookers and points to the pool. “Okay, show’s over. Hop back in and get to it.”

The next second, it’s just us. The crowd has thinned, and West and I are thrust into an awkward silence. Of course, because I’m trying not to think about that kiss, now it’s all I can think about

He draws his knees toward his chest and props both elbows there, staring out across the pool while I shift beside him to sit cross-legged. Not as close as a moment ago, but still close.

“You gonna thank me? Or are we gonna just sit here and pretend I didn’t save your life?”

The corner of my mouth twitches with a smile, hearing him jump right back into character, turning back into the real West.

“Maybe I’ll thank you when you call off your dogs,” I counter. “Seeing as how someone from your crew is the whole reason you had to … as you say … ‘save me’.”

He smirks, too. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t give the okay this time.”

“Ah, so they’ve gone rogue. Telltale sign of poor leadership,” I deduce, hoping he senses that I’m being smug as hell right now.

“Maybe,” he teases with a shrug. “But let’s say I do like you said, and call them off, who on Earth would keep me entertained all day?”

I swear, if I didn’t think he’d catch my fist in midair, I’d knock that grin right off his face.

“Besides,” he continues, “you know what they say. What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger. So, in that sense, I’m doing you a favor, Southside.”

There’s the callous dick I love to hate.

My eyes rise with him when he stands, and I’m still dumbfounded by his logic. Or lack thereof.

“On that note, I’m out,” he announces, watching our classmates instead of making eye contact with me. “And if you, somehow, find yourself in any more trouble, you’re on your own from here.”

“I didn’t ask for your help in the first place,” I snap.

Also, it goes without saying, but I hadn’t asked for his help when he stepped between me and Mike either.

At the sound of my words, West’s head tilts back until he’s facing the ceiling. He lets out a cocky chuckle that fries my nerves.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” he scoffs, “I was this close to letting your ass drown. So, suffice it to say, we’re both a little disappointed with how things turned out.”

My blood is starting to pump faster, rushing through my veins like a surging river.

“So, that’s your plan? You’re just gonna cover for them after I nearly drowned out there?” I call out. “You’re fine pretending it wasn’t one of your girls who pushed me?”

“Got proof of that?”

“Nope, but I have an ass kicking with all three of those bitches’ names on it. That good enough?”

He’s standing a foot or two away, with his back partially toward me, but I see his smile. The sight of it makes my stomach twist in a way I don’t approve of, because it’s not completely coming from a place of hatred.

“Do what you gotta do,” are his final words, leaving me to watch as he gracefully dives into the water, showing off for those of us whose swim style is similar to that of a rock.

Mrs. C.’s decision to pair me with West is the icing on the cake. Seems the more I try to distance myself from this guy, the more the universe pulls us back into one another’s space. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s a cycle I need to break.

Quickly.