That title needs to be earned,almost spills out, but I stop myself in time.
"Yeah, right, I forgot." I force myself to give him a fake smile. "Coach."
The last word sounds different, as if I'm trying to piss him off on purpose. Which, of course, I'm not.
I see his face change a little, from utterly calm to angry again. Even though he tries hard not to show it and his expression remains almost the same, the vein on his temple betrays him mercilessly.
I do my best not to smile at the thought that I pissed him off.
"Where are you going?" he asks, waking me up from my thoughts.
"Home," I say, unsure, and look at Ms. Taylor, who's listening to us very intently.
"Why the h..." He raises his voice but stops himself in time, probably reminding himself that we're not alone.
That means that he can yell at me, but not in Ms. Taylor's presence, right?
I feel like my hands turn to fists in anger.
"You have two more hours of practice," Alex adds, this time in a calmer tone.
"Now?" I ask, even though I know the answer. We practiced six to seven times a week with Coach Fitz, and Alex knows that.
"Meredith"—he faces Taylor, not paying attention to me—"unfortunately, I have to end our conversation. I have a lesson with Ms. Marcos, since I promised Mr. Fitzpatrick to take care of his kids."
His kids... Kids! I'm almost nineteen. Who does he think he is?
"It was so nice to meet you, Alex, I mean... Mr. Meyers." Taylor licks her lips, looking at him as if she's ready for sex right here and now.
She’s flirting with him right in front of me! Even though she has no idea that we've already kissed, it doesn't give her the right to do that in front of a student.
I tell myself that I'm more irritated with Meredith because of her licentiousness rather than with Meyers. Because I don't care about him AT ALL!
"Thank you, Ms. Taylor. Me too." He smiles back to her, showing his perfectly white teeth. She melts at that smile, and I am ready to roll my eyes, but that's when I notice that the corners of his eyes have not moved.
His smile is purely fake.
I turn away and head to the pool again, unable to stand them talking anymore. And I try to convince myself that it has nothing to do with our kiss.
Chapter Eleven
Gabi
I take a look at the clock on the wall for the twelfth time or so. Usually, practices with Mr. Fitz lasted for about two hours, but I never looked at the clock because I enjoyed them, which cannot be said about lessons with Meyers. It's been only half an hour, and I already feel like I can't stand this anymore.
During all this time, he hasn't said even one kind word to me. There are only remarks about what I am doing wrong. More precisely, he corrects my every move, forcing me to start the race again and again from the jump because he doesn't think that my leg 'stands right'.
I hear his whistle one more time, after I’ve barely touched the water.
"Once again, Marcos, and this time do it right!" he barks even though I can hear him perfectly.
There's no one else here. All the others left the building after classes, as always. Only a couple of security guys are left on the first floor, and a group of musicians who usually practice after lessons in the music room.
Irritated, I take off my goggles. My cheeks are burning, and it's not because of exercise. It's pure rage, which I am not able to hide anymore.
No one will hear me if I scream. And that means that no one will hear Meyers if I drown him. This thought is so tempting that I clench my fists, trying to contain my emotions.
"Put on your goggles, we're not done," Alex says, this time quieter but still far from polite.