Page 51 of Fortunate Misfortune
“I’m alright.” Jo gives us a funny look and bumps Mallory’s hip as she strolls past us. “We’re heading to the pool. Let me know how yoga is, Mal.”
Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen Mallory swim. Sure, she’s beenata pool. Neverinit.A good chunk of college parties take place at pools, but she’s never floated in the water, battled it out during chicken fights, or sat on the pool’s edge with chlorine-saturated hair hanging over her shoulders.
There’s so much I don’t know about this woman, and now that I’ve gotten a taste of Mallory outside of the game, I can’t get enough.
“Why don’t you swim?”
Her nose crinkles. “Why would I need to? I prefer land.”
“All I’m hearing is that you can’t swim. There have been so many parties and recovery days, and never once have I seen you in the water. You’re always sitting in a chair listening to music or being nosy.”
She smirks. “You watching me, Gray?”
We both know the answer to that question.
“Avoiding the topic only makes you look more suspicious. Just admit it. You can’t swim.”
“I can swim! I just don’t. I’d rather not frolic around in water that’s full of pee and poop. I prefer my water filtered, with a little bit of fluoride in it.”
I push a finger into my ear and clean it out. I must have misheard her. “Excuse me?”
The hilarious part is that she has the audacity to look at me as if I’m insane. “Are you telling me you’ve never thought about the disgusting shit floating around in pool water?” she shrieks. “I bet you’ve swallowedso much gunk! Urine. Feces. Hair! Pools are disgusting, and I don’t care what anyone says. Chlorine can’t bethatgood.”
A burst of laughter explodes so hard from my chest that I have to bend over, my body shaking from the wild turn of our conversation. It takes a moment to catch my breath, which gives my brain just enough time to produce a thought.
“I want to take you somewhere.”
“For the project? It could be our third punch—”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “Non-project and non-school related. If you get there and you hate it, you don’t have to swim, I promise. Would you at least come?”
“To a pool? Hell no.”
“Not a pool. A lake, which is even better.”
She fakes a gag. “All bodies of water are gross, Gray. At least pools have chlorine, even if it isn’t perfect. Animals take care of their business in the water. Plus, there’s bacteria and algae, and if I can’t see the bottom—”
“Do you think I’d take you somewhere dangerous?”
“Possibly!” she shouts, throwing her hands up. “And our applications are due soon. There’s too much going on.”
“We have two months until May.”
“A little over a month and a half,” she corrects me. “What about the cold front that’s supposed to hit next week? Swimming in the cold? Never ever.”
“Perfect! Let’s go this weekend. The weather will be perfect.”
I’m saying the word perfect a lot, but if she agrees, this weekend has the potential of being just that.
“I don’t—”
I press my hands together and beg. “I know you don’t like water, but I promise I’ll make it the best day. And if you hate it, I’ll reimburse your time with something comparable of your choosing.”
“Anything I want?” she asks, her smile turning mischievous.
I feel her resolve cracking. I’d do karaoke a million times if she said yes. “Anything.”
“Fine,” she finally says, and my stomach splits with surprise. “But if you take me to a pool, I will literally drown you in it.”
