Spiked (Blocked #3)

by Jennifer Lane

  Yoga? My gaydar beeped louder—Mom wouldn’t be pleased by my stereotyping. The PAC was the Physical Activity Center, located right next to the natatorium.

  “I guess you could say I work there, too,” I said. “My teammate Elyse complains that swimming for your scholarship is just like a job.”

  “A swimmer, huh?” He offered his hand. “I’m Van, by the way.”

  I took a breath, then shook his hand. “Jessica.”

  His smile lit up his eyes, and I felt my shoulders lower an inch as I exhaled. A thin, artsy, man-bunned yoga instructor wasn’t a threat, right?

  “I wasn’t bullshitting you, Jessica.” Van pointed to my sculpture. “Your piece has good motion.”

  I’d cut the foam into a tall shape with sweeping curves and whirling dervishes winding around and through it. It reminded me of a windstorm or hurricane, like the sculpture was about to lift off the table and spin across the room. One sharp line that stabbed through the midsection was now bright red after two coats of paint. I’d been working on the top curves when he’d scared me.

  Van stepped closer and cupped his hand under a yellow curlicue. “Looks like you’re running from something.”

  What? “That’s not me.”

  “It’s not?” His hands circled toward his chest, mimicking the curves on the top of the statue. “These spirals here…they’re your curly blond hair, right?”

  My stomach tightened. “I…”

  “And see, this is your leg.” He pointed down to an angled piece of foam I’d painted denim blue. “Like you’re running away, trying to get the hell out of there.”

  That did look like a knee. A leg poised to fight, to run, to flee. Just like the nightmares I’d been having—no matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t get away. As I imagined the dark shadow chasing me, my entire body tensed. No fighting or fleeing for me. All I could do was freeze.

  “You okay?” His head tilted, and his eyes scanned my face.

  How much time had passed as I’d stood here like a zombie? “I need to go.” I lunged for my backpack and headed for the door. “Got practice in a few hours—need to sleep.”

  “Aren’t you gonna clean up?”

  I spun around and noticed the caked paint drying on my abandoned brush. “Oh.” My feet were pulled to the exit, but I knew it was bad form to leave out paint supplies. Professor Schneider had lectured us on the importance of taking care of our space.

  “I’ll do it for ya,” Van offered.

  I blinked at him. “You sure?”

  He shrugged. “It’ll give me a good reason to procrastinate some more.” He frowned at his table. “See you in class tomorrow.”

  “See you!” I had to get out of there. I sprinted down the stairs and flung open the door. The humid day had bled into a cooler night, and I gulped in fresh air as I leaned against the brick. Spasms overtook my chest like that time I’d swum in Lake Michigan in early June, when the lake still remembered being frozen in the winter. My hands shook as I guided headphones into my ears, then connected their wire to my phone.

  I looked both ways before starting toward my dorm. Highbanks wasn’t far from downtown, and Mom had warned me about the crime statistics. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to walk alone in the middle of the night, especially with earbuds in. Screw it. I had other things to worry about. Like trying to slog through four-thousand meters without sleep. My feet dragged just thinking about it.

  As I opened the door to our room, the light from the hallway slanted across Mackenzie’s loft bed. Her face was turned toward me, her jaw slack against the pillow. The soft sound of her breaths filled the room. I bet she was drooling. I’d discovered she slept like a champ during the countless hours I’d stared at the ceiling. Bitch.

  I crept inside and winced when the door squeaked as it closed.

  Her breathing stopped, and she rustled under her sheet. “What time is it?”

  “Two thirty.” I set my backpack down.

  “How’re you going to wake up for practice in three hours?”

  Excellent question.

  “Where’ve you been? Making out with Blaaake?”

  I closed my eyes as my heart rate spiked. Mackenzie couldn’t stop talking about the “fine senior” pursuing me. I couldn’t bring myself to admit we’d had sex.

  When I didn’t answer, she said, “You left your phone, so I couldn’t ring you up.”

  “Sorry.” Blake had texted so many times that I hadn’t even looked at my phone the past few days. I clutched the hem of my shirt, but then realized it was pointless to change into my pajamas with practice so soon. After grabbing my shower caddy so I could wash my face and brush my teeth, I turned to the door.

  “Could…”

  I looked over at her. “What?”

  “Could you take your phone with you next time?”

  I glanced at the offending object plugged into the charger on my desk. “Why?”

  “It kept buzzing when I was trying to fall asleep.”

  “Sorry.” I gulped. “I’ve been a crappy roommate.” Tears welled in my eyes, and I tried to fight them off. I was just so tired.

  “No, you haven’t—”

  I was out the door before she could finish. I hoped she’d fall back asleep by the time I returned from the bathroom. I wasn’t so good around people these days.

  After taking extra long in the bathroom—I might have drifted off for a few minutes while washing my face—I exhaled upon finding Mackenzie’s eyes closed when I returned to the room.

  I glared at my bed. Okay, who’s going to win tonight? You or me? My heavy eyelids drooped. It had been like this the past four nights: I was so exhausted I could barely stand, but when I climbed into bed, it was like I’d just downed five energy drinks. And the few times I had fallen asleep, nightmares had blasted my hope of peaceful rest to hell.

  Maybe if we lofted my bed, it would feel different, cozier. Dane had promised to come over to help me, but I hadn’t heard from him in a while. He was probably too busy with his classes, practices, and Lucia.

  The bed looked so innocent, so inviting. I knew it was a trick, though, luring me in before keeping me up. My teeth clenched. I shook out my muscles and cracked my neck from side to side. Let’s do this.

  After sliding under the sheet, I had to admit how relaxing it felt to let my body sink into the mattress. My neck was sore from hunching over my sculpture, and my lats ached from a tough weight workout.

  My watch alarm was set for 5:40, and I doubted I’d fall asleep before then. I prepared for another night of staring at the ceiling, kicking off the sheets, feeling lonelier than ever in the darkness…

  Where was the freakin’ door? I was in Hopkins Hall, and the door should’ve been at the end of the hallway, but instead there was a mural on the wall—a hot pink demon with a thousand tentacles swirling around it.

  Excellent movement, I thought. But I need to find the door. I was late to something. Maybe practice? Coach would be mad at me.

  I turned down another hallway, then one more. It felt like I was walking through thick, wet sand, each step sucking up all my effort. Eerie snake-charmer music drifted out of one classroom. I wiped my slick forehead.

  Finally I found a door and stumbled outside into the black night. I looked down and noticed I wore wedge sandals with massive heels. No wonder I couldn’t move quickly—the heels must’ve been four inches at least.

  I heard a deep exhale behind me, and spun around, but nobody was there. Practice. I had to get to practice.

  To the side, a cruel laugh echoed, rocketing fear through my veins. But again I saw nothing. I tried to hurry, but my girly shoes slowed me.

  Then I felt it. The shadow behind me. I knew it was there. A sickening shudder crept down my spine, like someone had dropped an ice cube down the back of my shirt. Run, I breathed. But my legs wouldn’t move. I lifted off my feet and started swimming through the air. The dark grass swayed below me as I flailed my arms in a freestyle sprint. My pace was agonizingly s
low, and I knew he was catching up to me. Faster. He was coming—I heard him. When he grabbed my foot, I gasped.

  I bolted upright, hyperventilating and panicked. I kicked my leg straight, and it thudded against the footboard. Ow.

  My eyes darted around me. I was in my bed? It was a dream? As the shape of my dorm furniture slowly came into focus, I clutched the sheet to my neck. There was the dresser, and the small fridge on the stand.

  When I looked over at Mackenzie and found her still sleeping, I exhaled. Thank God I hadn’t woken her a second time.

  I looked at my watch. 5:20. No point trying to go back to sleep now.

  By the time Mackenzie’s alarm blared, I was sitting on my bed, ready to walk to the pool. She groaned, then rolled over and looked at me. But she didn’t say anything until she returned from the bathroom.

  “I wish I could get by with such little sleep,” she told me.

  I closed my eyes. I wish I could actually get some sleep.

  We hustled through the dark, quiet quad, slipped on our suits in the locker room, and made it to the pool deck before 6:00. Most of my twenty or so teammates were already there, sitting or stretching. We all wore the same black swimsuits with a Highbanks Cougar logo on the chest. Nobody spoke.

  I unclenched my fists when I noticed the far end of the pool was empty. The guys’ team must have had the morning off. The opportunity to avoid Blake’s grins and stares made the morning slightly more tolerable.

  “My arms are so sore,” Emma said as she hugged them to her chest.

  My entire body was sore.

  “At least we don’t have weights today,” said Mackenzie.

  Just two swim practices, I thought. It wasn’t even September yet. Typically training would build in intensity throughout the fall, even though we’d start competing in meets in October, and culminate in hellacious practices over winter break. It wasn’t uncommon to swim ten miles a day in late December. There was no way I’d make it, feeling like I did right now.

  Our assistant coach, Mike Henry, emerged from the office onto the deck. He was tall and lanky, with light brown hair that stuck up at the crown, likely from bed head. I’d considered becoming a swim coach, but waking up before six every morning didn’t sound like a dream career. He meandered to the white board and scribbled our warm up.

  Kaylee muttered behind me, “Please let this practice be short.”

  I closed my eyes and silently echoed her prayer.

  “We’re getting our kick on this morning!”

  I stifled a groan as I turned to see my head coach bounce out of the office. Morning people…ugh. Kathy Fredericks sported short, dark hair and wore the same polo and shorts combo as her assistant. Her broad shoulders were a testament to her excellence in the butterfly events years ago.

  “We’ve got a great kick set for you,” she said with a smile. “Isn’t that right, Mike?”

  He gave her the thumbs up. I’d noticed he didn’t speak much.

  “Great,” Emma whispered. “So now my legs will be destroyed, too.”

  “Okay, in by the five!” Kathy shouted.

  I glanced at the pace clock as I dragged my equipment bag over to the middle-distance lane. As I twisted my unruly mane to stuff it under a swim cap, Elyse plopped her bag next to mine. She also swam individual medley and shared my lane. I felt her stare.

  “You don’t look so good.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah?”

  “You look exhausted.” She squinted at me—she didn’t like to wear her contacts for morning practice.

  I tucked stray curls beneath the rubber cap. “Everyone looks exhausted at six a.m.”

  “Hold up!” Kathy yelled.

  When had our athletic trainer come on deck? Zeke stood by my coach, along with a tall woman I hadn’t met.

  Elyse sighed. “Crap.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Before Elyse could respond, Kathy said, “Michelle Farris is here from Athletics. Listen up, people! Michelle?”

  “Would the following swimmers come with me.” She looked down at the paper in her hands. “Cameron Myers, Elyse Jones…”

  A junior next to us started laughing. I was pretty sure her name was Hailey.

  “Shut up,” Elyse hissed at her.

  “And Jessica Monroe,” the tall woman finished.

  All eyes turned on me, and somebody said, “Oooo.”

  Elyse ripped off her cap. “This is bullshit. C’mon.” She tilted her head toward our coaches and marched off. I hustled to catch up.

  “Why’s Hailey laughing?” I asked. “What do we have to do?”

  “I get randomly chosen Every. Freaking. Time. And I’ve never tested positive.”

  I halted in my tracks.

  Elyse turned around. “What?”

  “We’re getting drug tested?” I squeaked.

  “Welcome to Highbanks, freshman.”

  “I thought freshmen didn’t get tested.”

  “Where’d you hear that?” She scrunched her nose. “It’s more like seniors shouldn’t get tested. This is ridiculous.” The panic must have shown on my face, because she patted my shoulder. “Relax. It’s embarrassing to have someone watch you pee, but it’s no big deal.”

  She hadn’t seen me smoke weed with Blake in his room. This was a very big deal. I was going to lose my scholarship and embarrass my mother in the national media. My hands trembled as I slid off my swim cap.

  A teammate I didn’t know—she must have been the other girl, Cameron—walked ahead of us. We followed Zeke and the tall woman to the training room off the pool deck. Behind me, I heard splashes of my teammates diving in to start warm up.

  Kathy’s voice boomed behind us. “If you’re not in by the five, we’re staying late!” I heard rapid splashes after that.

  We filed into the training room, and Zeke went to sit at his computer.

  The woman turned to me first, and offered her hand. “I know Elyse and Cameron, but haven’t met you, Jessica. I’m Michelle Farris, associate athletic director.” As I shook her hand, I noticed her classy business suit and stylish jewelry. How did she pull off a polished look so early in the morning? “Welcome to Highbanks.”

  They sure had a crappy way of rolling out the red carpet. My stomach dropped.

  “This is Debbie from the drug testing company,” Ms. Farris said as she gestured to a mousy-looking woman holding an iPad. “This should be quick. We never have drug problems with women’s swimming.”

  Until now.

  Debbie handed us some forms to complete, then took photos of the bar codes that would label our urine specimens. “Chain of custody is very important,” she said. I felt like I was in a courtroom, as the defendant of course.

  I followed her to the unisex bathroom off the training room. When she asked me to take off my bathing suit, I tensed. Would I have to pee in front of her naked? Then she gave me a team sweat jacket to wear. It took a while for my bladder to get over its shyness, but soon I produced my dirty urine.

  After running some tests on my pee, Debbie screwed a cap on the plastic cup and sealed it with my bar code sticker, all right in front of me.

  In other words, she sealed my fate.

  Once she released me, I couldn’t get in the water fast enough. I’d probably be kicked off the team once I tested positive, so I had better enjoy practice now. All my Olympic dreams were being sucked down the drain. But practice was too tough for me to wallow in self-pity.

  “Time for animal kicks,” Kathy told our three middle-distance lanes.

  What the fuck? Kaylee and I exchanged worried looks.

  “Ten one-hundreds kick, your best stroke, on the fastest interval possible. Yeah, baby!” Kathy raised her chin and howled like a wolf, which made Elyse laugh. “Elyse, what’s your interval?”

  She grinned. “One thirty. Bring it on.”

  My eyes widened when I heard her response. That was fast for kick. I clutched my kickboard.

  “Jessica, don’t look so scared. You can
hold that for breaststroke, no problem,” Kathy told me.

  My heart raced as I fake-smiled. I didn’t want to let her down, but how the hell would I make that interval?

  We had sprinted through seven hundreds, with me barely getting two seconds rest between each, when Kathy said, “Jess, hop out.”

  I swear I’m trying my hardest. She was going to yell at me. Tears prickled my eyes, but I blinked them away. My chest heaving, I pulled myself out of the pool and braced myself for a tongue-lashing. Instead, Kathy pointed to my athletic trainer. He stood next to a woman with a dark-blond ponytail.

  Zeke waved me over. Oh, shit. Had they already discovered THC in my pee? It hadn’t seemed to work that quickly when they’d drug tested me at US Nationals.

  “I’m Tina, the trainer for volleyball,” the woman said. “Dane couldn’t get a hold of you, so he asked me to pick you up.”

  I stepped back. “Pick me up? Why?”

  “He had an accident. He needs your help.”

  Chapter 6

  DANG, IT WAS LOUD IN HERE. I’d watched Lucia play in the NCAA quarterfinals the past two years, where there’d been a lot of crowd noise, but I hadn’t expected her first regular-season match to be so raucous. There were even cheerleaders. At least people didn’t stare as much as they did when my parents were with me.

  “How about over there?” Karen pointed to an empty section of the arena close to the opponents’ fans.

  I scanned the Highbanks’ student section until I found Dane’s blond head, sticking up above the other spectators in his row. “No, I want to sit with Dane.” I headed that way, pleased when my agents didn’t put up a fight and followed me. But when I got closer and saw who sat next to Dane, I stopped.

  Jessica.

  I would’ve arrived much earlier had I known she’d be here. I hadn’t seen her for a whole week.

  “Everything okay?” Johnny asked.

  “Yeah.” I resumed walking and tried to hide the stupid grin threatening to erupt.

  But Jessica didn’t seem as happy to see me. She’d turned to Dane, a curtain of curly hair hiding her face. They were arguing about something and didn’t even notice me standing there.

  “Dane?” I finally said.