I bite my bottom lip. “It was a little scary, almost like the big descent on a rickety roller coaster. Maybe I didn’t do it right.”
She giggles. “What did it feel like at the bottom?”
I sigh and look around in case anyone is listening. “Like a full-body sneeze. But then it woke me up and I felt sad that he...uh, that nobody else there.”
Her cheeks pink. “Oh, you did it right. Lucky girl.”
I shake my head as the heat rises and reddens my ears. “I don’t know if I would call it lucky. It felt…so empty when I woke up.”
“Who was it? You have to tell me!”
I hesitate. She’s so eager and she is my best friend. But…I just can’t. No way am I telling Hunter that the man I pictured in my dream was Coach Ford. I’m not ready yet.
Besides, she looks like she might be hiding something from me too.
“I’m not totally sure who it was. He was big. Tall. And he had nice hands. Kinda mean? But I liked it.”
I expect her to playfully call me a weirdo but she only nods thoughtfully. Knowingly. We eat the rest of our lunch while discussing safer topics than boys and our deepest, darkest secrets, and stick to chatter about the royal family. It feels weird. We’ve both always been a bit boy crazy, and we love to break down everything over lunch. Something is missing and I don’t like it.
After lunch I have an hour of independent study, and since it is the first day, I have to meet with my staff advisor. As I make my way to the guidance office, I should be thinking about my proposal for my independent study, but instead my mind wanders to swim practice for tonight.
I wonder if Coach Ford is going to have us practicing the same strokes or assign us new ones. I wonder if he’s going to give us pointers. Or better yet, a demonstration.
Even better still, a hands-on demonstration in the water.
The
skin on my chest begins to feel hot. My hands become clammy. Parts of me feel tingly. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to make myself put aside my daydreaming about Coach Ford and try to focus on the moment. I say hi to the guidance receptionist, who waves me in.
When I push open the door of the guidance office, I freeze.
What is that scent?
It’s a fresh, green, foresty scent. It’s like…oh god…but no…there’s no way…
I step into Ms. Frazier’s office and there, sitting adjacent to the counselor’s desk, is…Coach Ford. His eyes are fully trained on me. So much so, it makes me uncomfortable. And I like it.
“Oh. Hi, Coach,” I say, my throat thick. Dammit, there’s that breathy voice again.
Ms. Frazier clip-clops in behind me in her killer heels. She’s so beautiful and sophisticated, I don’t know how she’s still single. “Addie! Mr. Ford! Good, you’re both here. I believe you two know each other. We had to do a lottery to see who would end up with you.”
The way she phrases it rings so inappropriate in my head. I repeat it back to her. “A lottery? To end up with me?”
“Certainly,” Ms. Frazier says. “All the available teachers were looking forward to see what kind of independent study you came up with, so we literally drew a name out of a hat.”
I meet Coach Ford’s intense gaze with an awkward smile. “And you ended up with the short end of the stick,” I say self-deprecatingly.
The coach’s eyes flash with seriousness, bordering on anger—almost the same energy he had at the pool when he corrected me for calling myself the weak link. “Hardly,” he says. “Every teacher at this school raves about what a brilliant student you are.” Is it weird that I kind of want to hear him say that through a megaphone?
Ms. Frazier chuckles. “It’s not an exaggeration. As a matter of fact, Weston, I’ve been trying to convince this girl to graduate early for a couple of years now.”
This meeting is turning into a festival of compliments and it’s making me blush. Guess I won’t have to worry about impressing anybody with my independent study project idea.
I chuckle and shrug as I reply, “It’s true. Ms. Frazier’s been trying to push me out of Greenbridge for some time. But there’s something to be said for having the full high school experience with my friends, going to graduation, prom, the whole thing. And sticking with the swim team has turned out to be fun, too.”
I think this is the first time I’ve seen Coach Ford’s eyes blink and his face soften for me. Is that a smile? Not exactly—it’s almost like he’s trying to keep himself from it. “I’m happy to help with athletic scholarship applications.”
Ms. Frazier laughs. “Yes, I think you got a few of those in your day, Weston.”