“Your room?”
“Yes. I have one of those. Did you think I slept in a crypt?”
“I wondered.” There’s the promise of a smile playing at the corner of her lips. This is our happy place—picking on each other. “But why would we be in your room if we’re going to a grad party?”
“We have to sleep somewhere?”
“Oh.”
“Is… that okay? I mean, I guess we could leave early and I don’t have to stay for the after-party and the bonfire and stuff. But that’s kind of the best part. I mean, I’m only stopping into the boring family part because Todd’s mom would kill me if I didn’t and—”
Sidney cuts me off. “It’s fine. We can stay.”
“We have a guest room,” I assure her.
“It’s a plan then.”
“Technically, it’s a date.” I wait for her scowl, but she smiles. It’s weak and tentative, but it’s there. Barely.
DAY 35
Sidney
I’m not mad anymore—not really—but the drive is still quiet and awkward. What are we supposed to talk about when we don’t know where we even stand with each other? It feels like with that one bit of info—that Asher might not have started things with me for the right reasons—we took ten steps back. And the car ride doesn’t help. Because I have three hours to think of all the horrible thoughts that have resurfaced over the last few days.Why would Asher actually want to date me? Why would he like me after years of going out of my way to make sure he didn’t? And if he doesn’t like me, then why is he doing all of this? What is the endgame to making me fall for him?The thoughts marinate and grow and become living, ugly things by the time we get off of the highway and reach the little town where Asher lives.
As we drive he points out everything we pass, like I’m here for a tour. And I don’t want to be interested—I try my very best not to be—but I’m dying to see all of these places. The tiny little place where Asher gets coffee in the morning, and the weird little antique shop where he worked after school his junior and senior year. We pass his high school, and even loop through the back parking lot to where the athletic center is. Asher pulls intoa spot and cuts the engine, pushing his door open before I can even react. I crane my neck to see him outside his door. “What are you doing?”
“You can’t have a tour of my favorite places without seeing my pool.”
“Yourpool?”
“Just get out of the car, Sid. You know you’re going to. The chlorine is calling you.”
He’s right. Of all of the places here, the pool is where I usually imagine Asher. I saw a picture of him once, in a weak moment when I decided I’d look him up online. He was standing on top of a diving block, his arms stretched forward, his legs tensed. That image is burned into my brain, just like the need I’ve always had to see Asher in the pool, racing through the water.
When I’m outside the car, he grabs my hand and leads me up the sidewalk to the brown brick building. There’s something about a pool building that smells like home to me. Every pool is different, but they all smell the same, and the scent nestles into my nose like it’s welcoming me. Telling me I belong here.
You usually get to a pool through the locker rooms, so I wonder if he’s going to drag me through the men’s, until he takes a sharp turn down a hallway and we enter what looks like an office. There are two small rooms connected by a glass window that takes up most of the wall, and beyond that another large window and door lead to the pool area. At the far desk a short round man sits in a white polo and khaki shorts. Beyond the door I can hear the telltale squeals of kids’ swim classes.
“Coach!” Ash yells as we step into the little room. I hang a step back and receive a tug forward, propelling me next to him as the man looks up from his desk.
“Ash!” The man’s eyes are lit up and he stands more quickly than I would have thought possible. “They toss you out of Oakwood before you even started? I’ve got a guard spot openif you’re looking.” He winks and squeezes Ash’s shoulder, and then his eyes swing to me.
“This is Sidney, the swimmer from Eastwood I told you about.”
My eyes go to Asher but he keeps his on his coach, who is stretching his hand out to me. “Nice to meet you, Sidney. I’ve heard great things about you. You’ve got a great coach over there. You and Ash are a big win for Oakwood’s program.”
I don’t know what to say, so I squeak out a thank-you and shake his hand.
“Taking her in to see your pool?” Coach says with a smile.
“That okay? I promise not to traumatize the kids.”
Coach laughs and stretches an arm out toward the door. Asher leads and I follow behind him, out into the humid air of the pool area. Just as I cross onto the tile, he pops his head back in. “You mind if we borrow a few training props? I’ll get them back before school starts.”
“Sure, take what you need,” Coach says, as if Asher didn’t even need to ask. “You using your vacation to train?”
“Sidney has a record to break.” Asher grins.
