Water boy, p.22
Water Boy, page 22
He pauses, giving me a slow, unsettling once-over. His silence is more intimidating than words, and my heart begins to hammer against my chest. My eyes dart to my phone, lying agonizingly out of reach on the windowsill.
As Tobias inches closer, each step feels like a tightening noose. “Back off,” I warn.
He fixates on my shoes for a moment, then, in one swift motion, snatches my cap off my head. Memories of a recent altercation outside a club flood back, sending a cold shiver down my spine.
He laughs, a sound that chills the air. “Knew it. You thought I couldn’t detect you last night with the captain, huh? Your little sneaker chain decorations aren’t exactly subtle. Tends to sparkle in the dark.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I lunge for my cap, but he dangles it out of reach, taunting me.
“I know you’re a girl. And sneaking around with the captain? That’s a whole new level.”
“You don’t know shit,” I retort as my back hits the wall, leaving me nowhere to go. “What’s your deal, man? You’ve been a dick to me since I stepped on the scene. What the hell’s wrong with you?”
His face clouds over, and all I see is rage. “Newsflash, water boy,” he seethes, digging his finger inches from my face. “My cousin is dead because of that toy boy you’re messing with. And he had the nerve to fuck her best friend while she was still fresh in the grave. He drove that best friend home last night. Before he went crawling to you.”
His words hit like a sucker punch, and my mind travels back to the night at the beach when Dennis had mistaken me for Sierra.
My heart plummets at the thought.
But Tobias doesn’t stop there.
“You’ll never truly belong here, Frankie. We see you as a charity case, nothing more. You think they’ll ever pay you what you’re worth?” He laughs. “Ryan Atwater doesn’t do jack but is leagues above you on the payroll. You’re just the team’s little joke.”
His words are like venom, each one stinging deep into my core.
A lump forms in my throat and tears begin to blur my vision. I’ve always felt on the outskirts of the team, but hearing it voiced so cruelly makes it unbearably real.
“Rebecca would have scoffed at the sight of you, prancing around like you’re somebody important. Acting like you run the show, stepping over lines with Ryan. You’re pathetic.”
“Why are you doing this?” My voice cracks, shame seeping through my skin as a stray tear falls, and I can’t do anything to stop it. The most agonizing thing is him watching it happen with a smirk on his face. “What have I ever done to you?”
He steps closer, his face twisted with contempt. “You exist, that’s enough. You and your little secret, thinking you can fool everyone. But you can’t fool me. If you tell anyone about this, I’ll make sure you see your way out of your low-tier role and out of this school.”
His words ignite a familiar fear in me, a flashback to the Thompson home where my foster brother used similar menacing tactics. His cruel games were always physical, always punishing, just for the twisted thrill of it.
Tobias’s looming and threatening presence brings back that helplessness, the same feeling of being preyed upon.
I’ve fought so hard to be here, to be part of something, only to be faced with the same kind of terror I thought I’d left behind.
The basement starts to feel like another room where I’m cornered, defenseless.
Tobias’s dark chuckle slices through the chaos in my head, just like my past tormentor.
He tosses my cap to the ground and crushes it under his sneaker. “You know the thing about liars? They always get exposed, and they always end up alone. You’re just a little game, Frankie. And games get old. Watch how fast Pace will toss you aside when he’s done playing with you.”
He leaves me alone in the dim basement, the whispers of my past seeping through the cold walls. It’s a chilling realization that some nightmares don’t end; they find new forms.
CHAPTER 38
Pace
In the gym’s cluttered storage room, surrounded by streamers, banners, and a faint smell of dust, I try to focus on the task at hand. Marco is rambling about Rebecca’s large picture frame’s color scheme, but his words blend into the background like white noise.
Sierra is here too, coordinating. I catch her looking my way a few times, but there’s a restraint in her usual longing eyes and nervous posture.
I keep glancing at my phone, half-expecting, half-dreading a message from Frankie. There’s been nothing but silence.
She disappeared right after she dropped off everyone’s laundry yesterday before practice, and I haven’t the faintest idea what she’s been up to since.
The thought that I hadn’t told her the full details about the meeting and what we’re doing now twists in my gut like a knife. I’m the reason she’s out of the loop, and that realization stings.
“Hey, Pace. You with us, man?” Dennis nudges me, bringing me back to the present.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “The blue and white streamers first, right?”
“Yup.”
As I help untangle the first set, I notice Tobias is absent. He’s supposed to be here, helping.
“Any word on T?” I ask, glancing towards the door.
After the way he was acting on the beach, I’m becoming more low-key flustered with the jerk. I think I’m at that point where I’m going to finally confront him about it.
Dennis shakes his head. “Nah. Might have gotten caught up.”
Sitiveni’s not here either. As Frankie’s roommate, he might know something. I make a mental note to talk to him and get whatever intel on where Frankie’s head is at.
Suddenly, the door swings open, and Tobias walks in. What throws me even more is the small figure trailing beside him. It’s Rebecca’s little brother, Jamie, with his familiar mop of curly blond hair and wide, curious eyes.
“There you are, T,” Dennis calls out, his tone shifting to something lighter. “And you brought the little boss with you.”
Tobias offers a nod, his usual edge softened by Jamie’s presence. “Yeah, he wanted to help out.”
Jamie looks around. “Hi, Pace,” he says shyly.
“Hey, Jamie,” I reply, forcing a smile.
Seeing him in this room filled with memories of his sister hits a sore spot. I used to be a regular presence in his life, but since Rebecca’s passing, those visits have dwindled to almost none.
He runs over and hugs me around the thighs. “You don’t come to our house anymore,” he says. There’s no accusation in his voice, just a wistful note of missing something familiar.
I crouch down to his level. “I know, buddy, I’ve been a bit busy. But maybe soon, okay?”
Jamie’s face lights up at that. He looks over at Sierra and waves. She joins us, crouching down to pull him into a hug.
“Wuddup, fam?” Sitiveni announces, walking in with a box and Frankie trailing behind him with supplies. Frankie’s presence catches my attention immediately, and the dynamic in the room shifts.
Sitiveni cracks a joke, his laughter bouncing off the walls, but Frankie’s reaction is muted.
She moves mechanically, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. I see her flinch when she notices Sierra next to me with Jamie.
Fuck.
Her gaze darts around, skillfully avoiding prolonged eye contact. A distant, guarded look replaces her usual warmth.
When her eyes lock with Tobias, there’s a tense, silent exchange that doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Got my roomie to help bring the boxes in since Tobias ditched me,” Sitiveni tells the group.
Seconds later, Frankie politely excuses herself and makes a beeline for the door, not once looking in my direction.
I drop everything and follow her, not caring what others think or say. I catch Frankie’s fleeing figure disappearing around the corner of the hallway.
“Frankie,” I call out. I push through the exit doors, finding her jogging across the parking lot. “Wait.”
She doesn’t stop, her jog turning into a sprint like she’s trying to outrun her problems—or me. The determined fucker in me can’t help but dash after her, calling out her name.
Looking over her shoulder, she sees me and picks up speed. She’s fucking fast, I’ll give her that. However, running is my second skin, so I reach her in no time.
“Stop, Franks. Hey, wait.” I gently latch onto her arm and pull her to a stop.
“Just needed some air,” she says between breaths. “Some space.”
I try to meet her gaze, but she won’t make eye contact. “From me?” I say, almost afraid of the answer.
Her gaze falls between us, but she remains silent.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the memorial,” I blurt. “Not telling the whole truth about the meeting. I should have…I should have been upfront.”
Her expression softens for a moment, the edges giving way to vulnerability. “I’m not mad at you about the memorial. I can’t be. It’s just…”
The way she speaks with quiet sincerity strikes a chord deep within me. Her empathy has always drawn me to her.
In moments like these, she shines the brightest, her grit wrapped in a tender frailty that speaks directly to my soul.
“It’s just what, Franks?” The struggle on her face is clear. She wants to tell me something but can’t. “Can I come see you later?” I ask, a hint of desperation in my tone.
“Not tonight. I’m...I’m really tired.” Her voice fractures, and a subtle tremor reveals more than just physical fatigue.
I approach her gently, hesitating before my lips meet hers in a tender, hopeful kiss. Instead, she recoils, her head turning away. In that instant, my heart drops outside of my chest at her rejection.
“Maybe we’ll catch up once the memorial is over, okay?” she says softly, but the words sound uncertain on her lips.
With a final nod, she turns and continues running, her form shrinking into a dot. As she fades, so does the last glimmer of hope I held, swallowed by the vast, empty space between us.
CHAPTER 39
Pace
The week has been full-on training and preparation for the memorial. I’ve barely had a moment to check in with Frankie outside of the team. We see each other briefly on the field or in the locker room, but she usually disappears before I can say anything.
I’ve also noticed more guys hanging around the field. It’s not just the usual crowd coming in for practice or to mess around with a ball. Some guys I recognize from different sports teams and others who rarely venture out here make it a point to loiter.
Their glances keep straying towards Frankie, watching her with curiosity and something akin to admiration. Her growing transformation has cast her in a new light, drawing more spectators than usual.
Frankie seems oblivious to their stares, or maybe she’s just choosing to ignore them, focused on her tasks.
How she moves with newfound confidence or laughs off a mistake intrigues them even more. I catch snippets of their veiled compliments and questions about who she is and why they haven’t noticed her before.
A part of me swells with pride, knowing she’s commanding this attention on her own merits. But another, more selfish part is irritated at their intrusion. Things are changing, not just between us but around us.
And amidst all this, finding a moment to reconnect with her becomes even more challenging.
I feel flustered that she’s going out of her way to avoid me.
Hope flares with each buzz of my phone, only for the damn thing to sputter out names other than hers.
The room buzzes with the activity of both my family and Rebecca’s, pushing me out of my thoughts. I force my gaze away from the large picture frame of Rebecca, her image now a specter haunting me, challenging my fledgling feelings for Frankie.
“Pace, what do you think of this?” Jamie’s voice interrupts, showing me a sketch of Rebecca and me.
Tension grips at my core. “Looks amazing, buddy.”
Desperate to get out of this sour mood, I put aside my feelings and quickly text Frankie.
Me: Hey, just checking in. Hope you’re okay.
It’s nothing much, but I hope it closes the gap.
While I look over my notes for my speech, Sitiveni sidles up next to me.
“Hey bro, I’m gonna duck out early,” he announces, barely containing his excitement.
“Oh, yeah? Where are you headed?”
“Got me a hot date. Will be off-campus for the weekend,” he shares with a wink.
A momentary concern flickers through me. “You gonna miss practice?”
He shakes his head, his confidence unshaken. “Nah, man. I’ll make it back in time for practice. Won’t crash here, is all.”
“Okay, gotcha.”
We exchange our usual team handshake.
“I’ll hit you up if anything changes, brother,” he says before striding confidently towards the exit. I can’t help but feel admiration and envy. This guy is living it up. He has a date every other day.
His absence means Frankie will be alone at her dorm, which gives me an opportunity to check on her in person.
Frankie
The walls of my dorm room feel like a prison, and Tobias’s words have burrowed deep. The accusation that Pace slept with Sierra right after Rebecca died isn’t just a statement; it’s a blade slicing through the fragile trust I’d begun to place in him.
Every time I close my eyes, I see Tobias’s face contorted with grief and rage. The rawness in his expression when he dropped that bombshell about Pace and Sierra, had a truthful ring to it, and it haunts me. I’ve picked up so many shifts in one week to get this out of my head.
Could it be that something was already brewing between Pace and Sierra while he was still with Rebecca? It’s a thought that’s hard to dismiss. Maybe that made it easier for him to be with Sierra so soon after Rebecca’s passing.
Grief can blur lines and prompt actions that might not otherwise happen, but this...
I’m torn between the need to confront him with these revelations and the fear of what his answers might reveal.
Even if it’s true, can I even trust him going forward?
As I toss and turn on my bed, a familiar knock sounds at the door, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know who that knock belongs to.
I wonder if I’m ready to challenge the narrative Tobias has planted in my mind.
With a deep breath that does little to calm my nerves, I get out of bed and open the door to find Pace standing there; concern etched into every line of his face.
“Hey,” he says hesitantly. “Can we talk?”
I nod. “Sure, um, come on in.”
He steps into the room, and we sit, the air between us dense with friction.
“I know things have been...off between us,” he begins, “And I’m sorry if I’ve made them worse. I just...I miss you, Franks.”
For a moment, I’m speechless, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his eyes. Then, the weight of what Tobias told me crashes down, creating a silent barrier over my lips.
“I miss you too,” I whisper back.
He moves closer, his hand reaching for mine, a gesture so familiar yet so distant now. I hesitate, not because I don’t want him, but because I don’t know how to want him when I feel like I do.
I don’t even know how to reconcile what I’ve been told with the man in front of me.
As if sensing my inner conflict, his touch becomes more delicate, and his brow furrows in concern. “I need you,” he says, a clear longing in his voice.
I want to open up and tell him everything that’s been eating at me since Tobias cornered me, but the words stick in my throat.
“I need you,” he murmurs again.
“I…I need you too…”
His lips are on mine, leaving no room for air. My eyes remain open, catching the slow closure of his eyelids as his tongue ventures deep, seeking mine.
Next, we’re frantically stripping each other down until we’re both naked, our bodies tumbling onto my bed.
Yet, I’m drier between the legs than a saltine cracker, and I’m unsure how to worm my way out of this one.
He tries to find my eyes under the dim light streaming from my window, and as I try to connect with him, I can’t help but glance away.
“Frankie,” he whispers. It’s soft, but I catch the hint of something else. My mind complies, my body trying to find the rhythm that’s so uniquely ours, but it refuses to cooperate.
He touches my center, his expression unreadable. “Feels like you need some warming up.” He dips his fingers in his mouth before rubbing them into my pussy. It’s an attempt to apply moisture to the biggest dry spell between my legs.
With all my heart, I hope it’s enough for my body to respond, but a looming ‘No, it’s not’ seems to outweigh the desired ‘Yes, it will.’
Opening my thighs wider for him, I begin to smooth my hands down his back.
Please, get wet, please get wet, I chant to myself, unease crawling over my skin.
He enters me slowly, and it stings like hell because I’m so unaroused that I inwardly panic, especially when I see shame flicker across his face.
I look past him at the ceiling as he hovers above me, kneeling between my spread thighs. I raise and lower my hips, trying to get into it.
Sensing the disconnect, he brings his chest closer to mine, holding me in a gentle embrace I allow myself to sink into. But as he finds his tempo, the reality of Tobias’s accusations comes crashing back.
He had the nerve to fuck her best friend while she was still fresh in the grave. Drove that best friend home last night, actually. Before he went crawling to you.
I can’t help but think that if things go south, he’ll find someone else to fill the void quickly. So maybe it was the right choice not to have any labels…not to have an exclusive commitment.
