He points at himself. “I’m a bad influence on you? Who was the one who tried to convince me to skip a lecture today?”
“I was. But you didn’t. You made me go to it instead.”
“I didn’t make you do anything.”
“Sure you did. You dragged me into that lecture theatre.”
He folds his arms. “I think you imagined that part.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
We laugh, which feels so much better than the tense, emotionally charged conversation we were having.
“Do you still want a tutor?” Emory asks.
“Are you offering?”
“Yes. You don’t need to pay me. I’m happy to help if you want me to.” He blushes. “I have to confess to having an ulterior motive.”
“Oh?”
“It would give me an excuse to spend time with you. I’ll understand if you’d rather ask someone else.”
“No. You’re the best tutor I’ve ever had. And the cutest.” I’m not good at not flirting. Maybe this giving him space thing isn’t going to work after all. Except it will. I can be good and keep my hands and lips to myself.
He smiles. “Good. Do you want to start now?”
“God, no. You made me go to a lecture. I don’t want to follow that up with studying. I’d much rather hang out with my friend.”
Emory’s smile widens into a grin, which makes me happy.
“Hey, do you want to do something this weekend?” Shut up. I’m meant to be giving him space. I’d invite him to the party I’m supposed to be throwing on Friday, but I’ve done that already and been shot down.
“I can’t. The swim team have a friendly competition against York University. I like to go to Casey’s competitions if they’re not too far away, and York’s only twenty-five minutes by train. Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I scratch my jaw. “I’ve never been to a swimming competition before. Do you think Casey would mind if I tagged along? Would you mind if I tagged long?”
“No. Some company would be great, thanks. Casey will be with the team all day, so I wouldn’t be hanging out with him anyway.”
“Great. You’re going to have to tell me what’s going on.”
Emory chuckles. “I can do that.”
11
CASEY
My phone beeps as I put my bag into a locker before practice on Wednesday evening. Ignoring it, I go and join the rest of the team. It’s our penultimate training session before the friendly competition with York at the weekend, which is a practice run for the British Universities and College Sport Short Course Swimming Championship in Sheffield in two weeks. Our normal Friday evening swim has been cancelled so we can get an early night. I’d rather be in the pool with the team than be kicking about at home right now.
Things are weird between Em and me, and I hate it. How do I make things right?
I’m out of sorts, and it shows in my times. Josh spends half his time yelling and threatening to boot me to the development team if I don’t sort myself out. For the first time, being in the water doesn’t solve anything. It only makes things worse.
I get a few encouraging pats on the back in the changing room and assurances that everyone has a bad day sometimes. As long as I don’t have a bad day on Saturday against York, right?
I forget to check my phone until I’m waiting in the dark and cold for a bus to turn up to take me into the city centre.
