I’d lost it. Townsend wasn’t going to give me another one.

Sifting through the mess, I quickly gathered up the old papers that had spilled onto the floor and stuffed them back into my locker, rising off my knees and pulling out the books on the shelf. I searched those pages as well, one last-ditch effort for hope that it was still somewhere.

“You okay?”

I glanced over my shoulder, seeing Elle walking toward me with a backpack on one arm and a trumpet case in another.

“Fine,” I said, turning my attention back to my search.

“Well, everyone is about gone,” she said. “It’s getting dark.”

She kept walking, but spun around to watch me as she spoke.

“Need a ride?” she asked.

“No, thanks.”

“’K, see you tomorrow.”

“’Night,” I told her but didn’t bother to look.

What was I going to do? School had ended two hours ago. The teachers were gone, and band was gone, practice having ended over twenty minutes ago. It was too late to find my bandmate Joseph Carville who shared that class with me to see if I could make a copy of his on the printer in the library.

But of course, he’d probably turned his in last week anyway.

I slammed my locker shut. The silence of the empty hallways only made the thoughts in my head louder.

This was my fault, and I wouldn’t even be able to blame Martin for getting upset when he saw the missing assignment on my records. It was almost as if I enjoyed provoking him.

I was stubborn to the point of being self-destructive. I was asking for it.

Diving down, I swiped my bag off the floor, but instead of heading out the doors toward home, I went back the way I came—down the stairs, down the hallway, and toward the locker room.

“Come on,” I heard someone suddenly say. “You can do better than that.”

It sounded like Damon Torrance. I passed the wrestling room and peered inside, seeing him pin another kid to the mats as the basketball team worked on the weights nearby and his friends stood around, watching with amusement.

I kept going.

But then I heard another voice. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

I slowed and then…stopped, tingles spreading up my arms at hearing his voice. I hesitated a moment and then retreated, hearing thuds on the mat as I peeked around the corner.

Will grunted, plastered to Damon’s back and pinning him to the ground as the poor kid from before stood by, smiling that the jerk was getting a dose of his own medicine.

Damon jerked, freeing his arms, but Will grappled for them, quickly securing them again between their bodies and using his weight to keep them there.

“I’m letting this happen,” Damon gritted out.

“Sure, you are.” Will’s body shook with a laugh behind his friend, and his grin just looked so happy and easy. I started to smile, too, but stopped, remembering myself.

He must’ve sensed me, because he looked up and met my eyes.

The pulse in my neck throbbed, but I didn’t run.

It was weird. He’d left me alone since the lock-in. Days and not a single word in lit class or a single look in the halls.

I was glad for it. I didn’t want his attention.

Turning around, I continued on my way to the locker room and pushed through the doors, turning on the lights.

I slipped into my black swimsuit bottoms and matching, long-sleeved rash guard and then pulled my hair into a low ponytail. Grabbing a fresh towel off the cart, I headed to the indoor pool, leaving the lights off because the emergency track lighting was always on and that was enough for me. I didn’t want to alert anyone on the outside that I was in here when it was supposed to be empty.

Setting my towel down on a bench, I kicked off my shower shoes and walked up to the edge of the pool, stretching my arms and shoulders as I hopped up and down to warm up my muscles.

The chlorine in the air tickled my nostrils, and my blood coursed hot down my legs in anticipation.

I’d missed this. I loved the water.

Climbing up on the riser, I pulled down my goggles and bent over, gripping the end of the platform and blowing out a few quick breaths.

Drawing in one large gulp of air, I pushed off, diving into the pool and fishtailing as I cut through the water.

The icy cold was like a needle in every pore of my skin, but I exhaled out of my nose and then shot out, one arm after the other, freestyling at a nice, steady pace to the other end.

I wasn’t here to race, but I wanted to sweat, too. Keeping my eyes down, I tilted my head to take in air every three strokes before putting it back in the water.

Spotting the black marker on the tile below, I took one more stroke and flipped over, pushing off the wall and heading back the way I came.

I could say band and swim were an excuse to be out of the house. That my project in the park was something else I used to avoid going home. That all these activities were things I could do relatively alone without too many others, especially peers, interfering in my role.

The truth was, I liked showing people what I could do. To the town with the gazebo. To the few students and parents who had showed up to cheer us on at swim meets when I was on the team. To the whole school when I walked the football field and played the flute.

Every little thing you could do made you feel stronger. I have this, so I don’t need you. I have that, so I don’t need you.

Sometimes I was able to kid myself into believing that having this or being able to do that made me too busy and too important to possibly care about everything that I didn’t have and everything I’d never be.

Like a smiler.

Like friends.

Like having someone who loved to tickle me and kiss me all over my face, not just on my lips.

Nah. Being able to swim the hundred-meter freestyle in forty-eight seconds was really what life was all about. That made me happy. I didn’t need that other shit.

Charging toward the other end, I flipped, pushed, and headed back the other direction, deep in my rhythm now and the worries and stress burning away like fog in the sun.

I tilted my head, took a breath, and stuck my face back in the water, but just then there was another face looking straight up at me from the bottom.

I screamed, bubbles pouring out of my mouth like a goddamn geyser. What the hell?

I halted and scrambled to get my head above water.

But before I could get to the surface, something wrapped around my ankle and yanked me back down.

I screamed louder, my submerged cries muffled as I flailed.

Then, I inhaled. A gulp of water lodged in my throat, and I shot out my foot, kicking the prick so hard pain fired through my toe and straight up my leg.

Gasping and sputtering, I broke through the surface, coughing as I tried to escape.

But then…someone else took hold of me. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, pulling me to him and holding me with one hand around my waist, and the other under my thigh. “Calm down.”

I coughed, only managing short, shallow breaths as my lungs cleared, and I wiped my eyes.

“Piss…” I choked out, blinking and seeing Will Grayson holding me. “Off.”

But I was coughing too hard to sound stern, and he just snorted, laughing.

I pushed away. “Get off me.”

“They’re just fucking around, Emmy.”

He let me go, and I looked over, seeing Michael and Kai waist deep in the pool and talking to Diana Forester, while Damon slammed his fist in the water and shot daggers at me with his eyes. Blood poured out of his left nostril as he reached onto the deck for a towel.