Page 174 of Swallow Your Sorries

“So now what?” Rin asks, arms crossed.

“Ah…Take a free period. I need to deal with the manufacturer ASAP. If we can’t get it sorted before the weekend, we’ll swap swim season for squash instead.”

And just like that, Gant rescued me.

Again.

The moment fingers slip around the straps of my swimsuit and pull me under the bleachers, and away from the girls retreating to the locker room, I don’t fight it.

In fact, I lose my nerve and turn to Gant, wrapping my arms around him. I don’t want to. Heaven knows I don’t want to, but I feel like I’ll collapse if I don’t.

“Why did you wait until the second week?”

“I was giving you your chance.” At my inquisitive look, he continues. “I heard you say that you didn’t want to be a sitting duck… If you already know you’re a bird, why do you get so pissy when I call you Dove?”

I pull the swim cap off his head and sink further into his embrace, and the moment I can see his dark locks again, he becomes more familiar. He becomes Gant.

Why is just seeing him lately so comforting? I shouldn’t feel safe in his arms and yet, that’s exactly how I feel right now. Safe.

Air tingles my scalp the moment he peels my swim cap off, and threads his fingers through my French braid, loosening it.

“I had a plan,” I say lamely.

“I know. You were going to run into the locker room and vomit. I could practically hear your stomach churning from across the room.”

“It still was a plan.”

“You don’t always have to have one.”

“I do. I always do.” I think of Mum and how I always have to figure things out for us both. “It’s just me. If I don’t, who will?”

“Haven’t I always had plans for you? Even when you didn’t know it?”

“Is that supposed to comfort me?”

“It should. You have until January. The part isn’t just a special order, it’s out of stock and on backorder for three weeks. By the time they get it installed, it’ll be too close to Christmas and we’ll already be a month into Squash season. The administration will just make Coach swap the schedule. It’s not like we have a competitive swim team here, just a random club that’s more for fucking around. Beaulieu’s focus is on the arts.”

Before I can respond, he’s pulling me toward the back exit.

“Wait, my gym bag—”

“Let the cleaners throw it out. I already know you’ve packed it with those raggy panties again.”

So he had noticed. How? Had he been looking up my school skirt somehow?

Why does the thought make me tingle almost immediately?

“You can’t make it ten minutes without insulting me,” I mumble.

“What’s so awful about wanting to see you in beautiful things?” he stops pulling me and turns around to face me instead. “You’re so beautiful, and yet you insist on putting on the most dreadful things.”

You’re so beautiful…

Don’t fall for it.

“Sorry for not having a black card.” I roll my eyes. “It’s not like I have unlimited choices.”

“You didn’t before. You do now and you still won’t put them on. You say it’s a pride thing. Because you don’t want to take anything else from me, but I don’t think that’s really it. You kept the scholarship, after all.”

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