by M.S Watson
Chapter Three
‘You take your life in your hands, and what happens? A terrible thing, no one to blame.’
Erica Jong
Waking up felt odd.
The act of waking wasn’t what was odd though. I recalled the previous day, especially the evening with its unpredictable weather and that tail … I rolled over, barely aware of the buzzing of my alarm as it rang out through my room. Sunlight streamed through the open lace curtains by the balcony doors. The window was slightly open, having fallen down during the night due to the slippery lock that refused to stay in place. A gentle breeze blew through the opening, ruffling the curtains and playing with my flyaway strands of hair.
The sunlight lit my hair into strands of gold and I lay in bed for a while, simply watching the dust motes play in the air. I could have almost fell back asleep if it weren’t for the scream that shook the house right down to its foundations. I heard footfalls from below mix with those from my sister’s room and she slammed my door open. Her steps were quick as she crossed the room, fury written across her face as she tumbled onto my bed. She shoved her phone at me and I barely caught it before she shoved her hands around her crossed arms.
‘What. The. Hell. Who is this Isabella Lim that I hear is hooking up with my Ryker?’ I could see simply from the wideness of her eyes and the set of her jaw that she was positively pissed. I resisted the urge to lay back down and shove my head below a pillow to ignore her rant.
Ryker Stewart was practically her double popularity-wise and in her opinion, he was made for her. She had been trying for years to gauge his interest, but he hadn’t been interested in anyone. In a desperate attempt to arouse the tiniest amount of jealousy from him, she had turned to Starden Leise, academic star of our entire region. He had been offered numerous offers to leave the state and travel not only to numerous academies within the country, but also around the world. He’d turned them all down.
For my sister.
I felt a surge of guilt for not telling him of my sister’s intentions, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. I should have told him months ago when they’d first started going out. My sister nudged my arm and raised her shoulders in a gesture of impatience.
‘So? Sis, do you know who this girl is or not?’ she urged, snatching the phone from my hand. She immediately clicked on the profile picture and gasped, her face turning tomato-red. ‘She’s stunning!’ She turned and threw the phone, narrowly missing our parents as they stood by the doorway. They jumped back, watching as the phone smashed into thousands of shiny silver pieces. Our mother crossed the room and took my sister in her arms, our father muttering to himself about hormonal teenagers and boys.
‘She may be beautiful but Starden is yours, not Ryker,’ I told her. ‘Get over it.’
I stood and escaped while she sat in stunned silence, her fists clenching in fury. I sidestepped the smashed glass and plastic and descended the stairs. Our father was downstairs, pouring himself a glass of orange juice as I settled for some freshly made buttermilk pancakes and maple syrup. I drizzled it thickly over my stack, listening as breaking news became plastered over the television screen. Two people - a wife and her husband - were being taken into custody after an extensive search for their children. Found guilty, the two were being dragged into court with cuffs around their wrists, followed by footage of the two before the judge. The male was clearly a murderer, but the woman was charged as an accessory to murder.
I chose to turn away and my father switched off the television with an expression of sheer disgust plastered across his face. He turned to me and jumped, surprised to find me seated at the table. He looked about, clearly unnerved that I had been able to sneak up on him. I offered him a smile as he moved to collect his car keys and headed toward the back door. Clearly he was spooked and he barely mumbled his goodbyes before exiting.
The pancakes taste amazing as they interact with my taste buds, tingling my senses as I shove them down and complete the meal with a glass of fresh milk. I moved away from the table the moment I heard my sister stumble down the stairs and knew before I saw her that she would be wearing her tight white button-up shirt and barely-legal mini skirt in eye-catching ruby red. I shook my head, noticing how she enhanced her curves and shed light over her chest for even the most introverted of men.
‘Do you really want to be known as a slut in our final year of school?’ I muttered as she stalked past. She was short, so her skyscraper-sized heels almost tripped her as she halted and seethed at me.
‘I’m going to take back what is rightfully mine,’ she stated. ‘Starting today is the first day of project “get Ryker back”.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘He has taste,’ I pointed out. ‘Obviously, considering that every photo you saw of this Isabella girl had her wearing long skirts, dresses and shirts that don’t challenge the depths of the Grand Canyon.’ Lainie glared at me, her red lips pulling back in a severe sneer. If looks could kill …
‘Starden isn’t enough. He’s cute and a bad boy, but that isn’t my style,’ she said. ‘Give me a break.’ She turned, flipping her styled curls over her shoulder as she stalked outside. A horn blared and I heard her greet Starden by the sound of his wolf whistle. I saw our mother standing a few stairs from the top, a concerned expression marring her features. She finally descended when she noticed my stare and placed a hand on my shoulder.
‘I know you feel guilty for what Starden is going through; we all are. But don’t be too guilty. You know he only stays with your sister for her … physical qualities. Who knows, they may actually end up being a great couple when she understands that Ryker is out of her league.’ I nodded, offering her a small smile that matched her own. She made me feel better and I made my way upstairs. I quickly checked the time and almost had a heart attack when I saw that I was close to running late. I shoved my hair into a flyaway ponytail before rushing into a black, green and white floral dress. It usually wasn’t my style but I couldn’t care less as I rushed to my car and floored it out of the garage, leaving skid marks in my wake.
By lunch time I knew that I had survived the worst of the day: mathematics with Mr. Marks. The rest of the classes flew by and before I knew it, it was time for my swim team meet. So far we hadn’t decided who was going to be on the team, but I was practically guaranteed a spot. We offered an opportunity for anyone to apply, but it was always the same people who earned the places. It wasn’t bias that determined the spots - it was their swimming ability and reasons for applying that determined their success in earning their place.
I sat by the edge of the pool, pulling off my dress to reveal my one-piece swimsuit underneath. It was brightly coloured, sporting stretches of rainbow colours across the fabric. I could smell the chlorine from the pool, and watched as the doors at the far side opened. Ryker stepped through and offered an unfamiliar girl his hand as they strode toward Coach Marston. He seemed surprised when Ryker tapped him on the shoulder and he beamed at the girl.
‘Everybody, this is Isabella,’ he announced, stepping beside her and he placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘You have every right to try your hardest this year. There’s a lot of competition and only limited places. Isabella is one to watch.’
I was watching her alright. She had the typical baby blue eyes and dark hair, but her body was too thin for her heart-shaped face and curves. When she smiled, she exposed a set of brilliant white teeth, and I was silently pleased to find that they were slightly chipped, erasing her faultlessness of her overall beauty. That didn’t erase the adoration from Ryker’s face. I watched as he grinned and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He planted a kiss on the crown of her head.
‘I’ll be watching baby,’ he murmured, squeezing her tight as I turned away to stop myself from gagging on their sweetness. I decided to focus on pulling off my shoes and making sure they were put aside, away from the firing zone of flyaway water droplets. My feet tingled with anticipation and I stepped toward the sparkling blue water to warm myself up. That wa
s when Coach Marston stepped forward and shoved a thickly muscled arm across my shoulders, effectively stopping me in my tracks.
‘Hold on, Glass,’ he addressed me, though his gaze was on Isabella as she stepped toward the blocks. ‘We have to give the newbie a chance to impress.’ I rolled my eyes and sighed. Obviously she impressed everyone, considering the fact that I was the only one not tripping over my feet for a spot to watch her without obstruction. I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes, concentrating on her as she stretched and prepared for her leap of faith into the water below. She took a deep breath and pushed back her shoulders, poetic in her grace. Her swan-like movements followed as she leapt from the blocks and sliced through the surface of the water, shifting through the water with sheer elegance.
Her limbs slid effortlessly, capturing her entire audience as the water parted for her body. She started with freestyle, making her way through four laps. With each turn and slice through the water, I felt my temper rise and I clenched my hands and jaw to try and contain it. My body ached with the effort, and my feet broke out into full-on pins and needles as they screamed at me to dive in and ruin the beauty that Isabella was casting. I chided myself internally for being so ridiculous. I wouldn’t lose my place to her. I was a strong swimmer. I could do everything that she could - and more.
That didn’t stop my temper from reaching boiling point - and the boiling point of something else, too.
It started with her slowing gradually, her strokes becoming strained as she gradually came to a stop. She looked around, blinking her eyes as she tried to see what was going on. No one else seemed to understand what was going on either, confusing even myself as I watched from behind Coach Marston’s beefy arm. He took a step forward, raising his head as Isabella’s eyes met his own.
‘What’s wrong, darlin’?’ he asked, a frown settling over his forehead and pulling down his salt-and-pepper eyebrows. She shook her head and shrugged.
‘It’s … It’s …’ she said, struggling to find the words. ‘It’s heating up.’
Ryker shared a glance with Coach Marston and the old man shrugged, shaking his head.
‘I don’t understand,’ he told her. ‘The pool isn’t heated. It’s a cold water, chlorine pool. Nothin’ special or heated about it darlin’.’ She pursed her lips and shrugged, turning her body to face the blocks. ‘Go for one more lap and we’ll see how it is then. You’re goin’ great!’
I frowned, my pulse rising as I clenched my fists. Those final three words were what he always said to me, ever since I commenced training years ago. He’d only ever used it with me, and it finally peaked my jealousy to hear him use the same endearment with the new girl. Christ, she had only been here for one day! I had had to work for the endearment for years, pushing through pain and tears until I finally earned that comment - the highest compliment I’d ever heard him use.
Isabella made her way to the end of the pool adjacent to the blocks and flipped her body through the water in an elegant change of movement to face the blocks. I set my jaw as she shimmied towards the end, coming closer and deeper through the chlorinated water. My feet burned with the need to dive in, but it suddenly started to drain away, along with my energy. She was by the final twenty metres when the steam started to rise, like a sauna had just been magically installed.
She slowed once again with fifteen metres to go and stared at Ryker, then Coach Marston. Her expression was concerned as her pale white skin began to change to rose-red. She swiped her hand across her forehead and stroked some strands of dark hair behind her ear. By now it was evident that she’d been right about the heat rising in the water.
It started to bubble around her.
‘What … What’s going on?’ she stuttered, thrashing around in a circle. The heat increased and along with it, more and more steam began to rise from the water. Coach Marston’s eyes widened and he ran to the edge of the pool.
‘Get out of there!’ he yelled, his voice booming. ‘Swim here! Grab onto my hand!’
Sensing the urgency in his voice, she began to make her way to him. Her body was still graceful, but she was starting to lag. I was caught in place as the entire swim team applicants surged toward the edge, thrusting their hands out urgently for her to snag onto them. She surfaced, treading water as she began to cough and splutter, water rushing in and out of her mouth faster than she could stop it. Her arms started flailing and her body went under.
The girls began to scream around me and I finally woke from my internal slumber, realising the situation at hand. I surged forward, shoving a group of terrified girls out of the way and I dove into the water. By the time I made it to Isabella and had hold of her, the water was bubbling like a kettle and her body was severely burned. I snagged an arm around her waist and pulled her through the steam and water, shoving her toward the edge where Coach Marston and Ryker waited for her unconscious body. Immediately they attended to her while two strong boys a year lower than me reached down and quickly hoisted me from the water.
Instantly the water cooled, the steam vanishing and the temperature returning to its normal coolness.
I turned my attention to Isabella and the crowd surrounding her as Coach Marston executed first aid and had her breathing again. I heard the ambulance approach outside, and a moment later the doors burst open to reveal the paramedics as they wheeled a gurney through the entrance and over to where she lay. She didn’t stir as they checked her vital signs and resumed her breathing again, an oxygen mask placed over her face. Ryker cried as she was placed on the gurney and wheeled away, her severe burns stunning everyone in the room. Coach Marston stood in silence, his jaw dropped open in shock as he watched after them.
‘How did that happen?’ he whispered. No one answered. No one seemed to even have an answer for what had just happened. Police filtered in through the doors, gesturing for him to follow them. Two students went with him, guiding him with their hands clasped tightly around his biceps to keep him from collapsing. To my surprise my father stepped through the door, crossing the room dressed in his full attire. His badge shone and he dipped his hat in greeting to me as he approached.
‘This is pretty serious,’ he said, followed by stunned nods by the several remaining students around me. ‘Does anyone know how this happened? It’s suspicious that a completely unheated pool could magically erupt into bubbles of intense heat. Does anyone have any suspicions as to who did this?’ A sea of shaking heads followed his query and he sighed, shoving his notebook and pencil into his pocket. He took each of us in, pausing on me the longest before crossing to the next witness. I knew that we would end up with a full interrogation when I got home later. With just one more day until my birthday, the last thing I wanted to be doing was reporting to the Head of Police about a mysterious pool burning a newbie alive. Worst of all, it would stuff around with the swim team meets, or even suspend them indefinitely.
Crap.