Page 173 of Swallow Your Sorries

But when am I going to rescue myself?

I break the contact, looking down at my shifting feet instead.

Do something bitch.

Last week, I’d used my period and horrible cramps as an excuse to get out of class. This week, I’m still mulling over what excuse I can give Coach this time.

The problem is, how many excuses could I give before I got into serious trouble? More than two absences per class per semester earned a trip to the head office. What would I say to Ms Hiems as to why I missed an entire seven-week session of swim class?

Not much because I’d get kicked out.

My eyes flicker again to Gant.

Would he really let that happen?

NO!

We’re not relying on anyone to save us.

Think…

Think…

The acid in my stomach ripples, coils and twists like a snake down into my intestines, where it audibly gurgles. Aria throws me a curious look over her shoulder but I sidestep her, ready to approach the swim coach who’s just entered the pool house with an excuse of explosive diarrhoea. No, I’m not embarrassed in the slightest that Rin and her bitches will inevitably double over into fits. I’ve been humiliated so often at this point that I don’t care if the entire school thinks I have bubble guts.

But I don’t make it two steps before Zedd, at the coach’s command, is pushing the button that makes the pool cover retract. Once he does and I spot the first step, covered in a layer of mossy green, I slip back into position behind Stassi, thanking the heavens, because even I know algae when I see it.

“What the…” Coach begins flabbergasted, his fingers running through an immaculate head of salt and pepper hair. “Something must be off with the levels… Everything was fine last class.”

“Wasn’t that on Friday?” Zedd says. “No one’s checked it since then?”

Stassi snorts quietly. “Oh, I know who checked it.”

“Who?” Aria asks.

“All ofthem.” Stassi juts out her chin to where Hale, Gant and whom I assume are Bae are congested.

Why is he wearing a turtleneck rashguard? Come to think of it…he’s always wearing high collars and long sleeves, but even to swim? He’s the only one covered head to toe including his ankles.

“Why would they do that?” Aria says.

Stassi shrugs. “No idea. But I’ve known Zedd since the womb. Whenever he’s hiding something, he can’t help but smirk.”

“He’s not smirking,” Aria says, squinting back at Zedd.

“He is. You just can’t tell. Look harder.”

“Something’s wrong with the motor,” Zedd notes, inspecting it. “Looks like a part is broken.”

I can’t see the smirk either, but Stassi obviously can as she shakes her head.

“The maintenance man was just here,” Coach says. “He either messed something up or didn’t notice something was about to get messed up.”

“More than messed up,” Zedd says, getting to his feet and pulling out some mechanical pieces. “It looks completely fucked.”

“Language.”

Coach snatches the part, rolling it over in his fingers, but we don’t miss the ‘fuck’ he mumbles under his breath. “This’ll take weeks to fix. The parts are special order only.”

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