I smiled. Yes!
“You’re showing a lot of promise, though, so if you do well enough, I’ll move you up to intermediate later in the term.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
He clapped his hands together. “All right, everyone. Time to grab your stuff and get in the water! You know what to do!”
The different classes hurriedly broke off into their own little groups. My beginner-level single scull group headed over to the shore by a small dock east of the main boatshed dock. Our practice area ran between that and yet another small dock even farther east.
I concentrated on my breathing as I propelled myself through the water moments later, powering past the others in my group. When I turned my head to the shore for a couple of seconds, I could see one of Reilly’s assistants watching me with an approving smile on her face.
I kept going, pushing against the water as hard as I could. My muscles strained and ached, but not in a bad way. It was the good kind of pain that let you know you were getting a great workout.
A moment later, I caught a glimpse of someone else on the shore out of the corner of my eye. I glanced to the right and realized it was Hunter. He was standing near the assistant coach, staring right at me.
My breaths started coming in faster and larger puffs, and fear crept over me like a thousand little insects under my skin. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was about to lob a grenade into my shell.
He didn’t do anything, though. He just stood there watching me until practice was over. By that stage, my fear had blended with all the exercise endorphins pumping through my veins, so as I trudged onto the shore, holding my equipment over my shoulder, I actually felt courageous enough to try to speak to him.
What was the worst he could do?
I stopped near him and took a deep breath. Slowly, very slowly, I met his eyes. “What are you doing here, Hunter?” I asked. “Are you joining the rowing club, or are you just here to be a creep?”
He didn’t respond. He just stared at me, eyes clouding over with unfamiliar emotion.
In the distance behind him, a crackling energy pressed down over the forests and mountains. A thunderstorm was building, and the gorgeous afternoon was long gone, replaced with gloomy grey skies and bone-chilling wind.
Of course a storm would pop up when Hunter was nearby. He was honestly that much of a moody asshole that it wouldn’t surprise me if the weather actually changed whenever he was around to match his shitty attitude.
“Well?” I asked, tilting my head to one side. He still hadn’t said a word.
He kept staring down at me, seemingly unruffled by my snark. “My sister used to row too,” he finally muttered.
Then he turned and strode away in a diagonal line, heading toward the main dock.
Okay…
I still had no idea what his problem was, and frankly, I didn’t care anymore. My priority at RFA was getting the best education I possibly could. I didn’t need to win any popularity contests or break my back trying to figure out why some rich prick hated me.
I headed for the boatshed, covering a yawn with one hand. I’d sleep well tonight.
A chill suddenly trickled down my spine, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I whirled around, expecting to see someone behind me, but there was no one there.
Weird. It really felt like someone was following me.
I kept going, mouth dry and heart pounding. Even though there was nothing but a strange feeling to suggest it, I couldn’t shake the idea that someone was watching me.
A dense grove of trees stood next to the school-side edge of the shore. I tensed up as I moved closer to it to avoid a giant patch of slimy lakeweeds that had floated up from the water, and the tingles up and down my spine grew stronger.
I stopped abruptly and squinted into the dark trees, hoping to catch someone crunching over the dead foliage on the ground, just so I’d know I wasn’t losing my mind. But once again, there was no one there, and nothing to be heard. Just trunks, branches, shrubs, and the sound of the wind blowing through them.
I finally made it back to the boatshed, put my equipment away, and stepped around to the changerooms. My bag was exactly where I left it earlier, and the room was empty. Everyone else in the rowing club had already cleared out.
Yawning, I went through all of the pockets again, searching for my keycard. I couldn’t get into my room without it, so if it was really missing, I was screwed.
“There you are,” I murmured to myself a moment later, yanking it out with a triumphant flourish. Tracey was right—it had fallen into a different pocket. Or maybe I’d just remembered it wrong in the first place, and it was there all along.
My legs felt like they were about to fall off by the time I made it back to Blair Hall. I slumped down on my comfy bed, sighing with relief. Then I pulled out my phone and opened my group text with Adam and Trina.
A flush of excited adrenaline went through me as I typed out a new message. We need to get some costumes!
Trina messaged back almost immediately. How come?
I smiled and tapped out a response. We’re going to Chris Hewittson’s party tomorrow night…