Harder

by Ashcroft, Blue

  I’m one lap from the end of my five hundred, wondering if I should throw it and let Ryan at least close to tie me, when I happen to notice on a breath that he’s not in the lane next to me. Did he ever even start?

  I hurry to finish my lap and when I come up, gasping and yanking off my swim cap, I’m annoyed to see him standing at the head of my lane, fielding questions from admiring guards on his swimming ability.

  I shake my head, frustrated beyond belief, and haul myself out of the pool. I sit on the bench next to them and empty my cap. Then Dane comes over to sit next to me and says the worst thing possible.

  “It’s okay Ally, you did pretty great for a girl.”

  He couldn’t have hit me harder if he used a sledgehammer. I bite my bottom lip hard, drawing blood.

  I don’t like being beaten, and I don’t want to be good for a girl. I just want to be good. I want to be as good as any man, as strong as any man.

  And stronger than Ryan, who’s looking at me now with concern on his handsome face.

  I don’t want his pity. I don’t want his kisses either. He’s humiliated me in front of the guards, and that means war. He walks over to me, toweling off his perfect body and face and his hair. I scowl up at him, then realize it’ll be better if I pretend I don’t even care.

  “Sorry, Ally. I wasn’t thinking.”

  So now he’s a friggin’ wordsmith? I swear he just does this to torture me into never knowing if he’s going to talk or stay silent. “No big. I was trying to stall so I didn’t beat you too badly anyway.”

  “Poor form, Ally,” Knight says, coming up beside us. “Ryan’s a great swimmer, the best on our high school team. No need to get nasty just because he’s better than you.”

  But I am getting nasty because he’s better than me. I can’t help it. “He’s not better. We’ll have a rematch later.”

  “Is something wrong, Ally?” Knight puts a hand on my shoulder and moves me out of Ryan’s concerned gaze as the guards trickle away from us back to the break room like the little sheeple they are.

  I push his hand away. “Nothing’s wrong.” I pick up my towel and run it over my hair, telling myself to calm down. No one else cares that I lost. I haven’t lost anything. The words steady me in my mind, as does running my hair through the towel. I love short hair. It’ll be nice and dry while Ryan’s is still dripping in a nasty ponytail.

  “Ryan, you want to start the next activity without us?” Knight asks, sitting next to me.

  Oh no, now he’s thinking I can’t even handle running training. He’s giving it over to Ryan. I’m so not doing this.

  “You know Knight, actually, something is bothering me.” I point to Ryan. “That douchebag kissed me. Yesterday.”

  Knight’s eyes widen, and he turns to Ryan, who simply glares over at me, like I shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe I shouldn’t, if I want him to kiss me again. But I don’t want to be the girl he kisses in the break room and overpowers during training.

  I don’t want to be weak to him one moment and be seen as weak at work the next. Right now we’re enemies, and competitors, and if it helps my case to rat him out, I’mma do it.

  “Is that true, Ryan?” Knight looks at him, then frowns, then laughs and slaps his knee and throws an arm around me like I’ve just told an awesome joke. “Nah, that’s not Ryan. That would never happen.”

  I wait for Ryan to correct him, but he simply folds his arms and studies one of the moles on his bicep as he flexes it.

  Oh, I’m going to get him for this.

  After a moment of Knight chuckling, Ryan looks up at him and shrugs apologetically, as if he’s apologizing for being so predictable, rather than for violating my personal space. Even if I liked him violating my personal space at the moment, it’s very different now that he’s emasculated me in front of everyone.

  “Hilarious, Ally. You always know how to throw me off.” He stands, his hand using my shoulder to push up. “I mean, seriously, Ryan, and you?” He walks off shaking his head. “Hilarious.”

  Then it’s just me, Ryan and a couple guards that have witnessed the whole thing. I’m sure I’m turning bright red, and I just wish someone would give me a way to redeem myself. I hate Ryan more than ever. Somehow, the thought propels me up and out of my funk. Now it’s just about beating him.

  Chapter 2

  She’s so beautiful, and so angry, and I don’t even know what I’ve done to upset her. She’s like a flame, just lighting up and burning all around me. She narrows her gorgeous, huge, quicksilver eyes at me, and storms off to change.

  I know I probably shouldn’t have beaten her in the lap race, but I thought she’d be more offended if I lost on purpose. Maybe it’s because all I did was shrug when Knight asked me if it was true that I kissed her. I can’t believe she told him. That’s private. Even if it’s kind of offensive that Knight doesn’t think I’m capable of kissing someone like her.

  I don’t know why she’s mad about it. If she didn’t want me to kiss her, why did she keep staring at my mouth? I may not be a big talker, but I’m an expert at body language, and I was sure she wanted me. And then her cute little outburst about the fact that I don’t talk much. I thought I’d show her how I feel instead. I guess that didn’t go over well.

  I can usually read everything about a person. I don’t need them to talk, and I don’t really see why they need me to speak to understand me either. I know people think I’m stupid, but they don’t realize how stupid they look when they can’t keep their mouths closed even when they have nothing worthwhile to say.

  I could watch her walk away all day. Legs for miles, tight butt, like a runway model.

  I even love the way she dresses like a guy. For me it just enhances how feminine she looks. Her face is so beautiful, her skin is so flawless…

  I have a serious schoolboy crush.

  Still, I thought she would be happy when I kissed her, and that doesn’t seem to be the case. Should I apologize? I don’t even know where to go from here.

  I’ve had my eye on her since I first saw her in class. I’m a TA and it wouldn’t have been appropriate to approach her, but luckily she applied here and the rest is history. Except that she didn’t give me a second look. She’s talkative and explosive and the other guards love her. Why would she bother with a wallflower like me?

  Then she was made senior guard. Knight’s been bugging me about it for months. Suddenly it became clear. If I was a senior guard, maybe then she’d notice me. Not just as a guy she occasionally teases, but as guy she could like.

  I can handle her. I know she probably thinks I’m all innocent and untouched, which may be true, but I can handle her and then some. The thought makes my ears burn.

  She turns around and glares at me again, and it’s funny, because I know she’s expecting it to scare me off, but it’s moments like this when I find her the most adorable. It’s like the more worked up she is the more I want to kiss her until she forgets any other way to use her mouth.

  Someone taps my shoulder and I turn around to see Knight, still smiling from Ally’s funny ‘joke’. “Dude, can you believe that?”

  I shrug again. Let people think what they want.

  “I mean. As if anyone could do anything to Ally that she didn’t want them to do.” He scratches the back of his head. “Watch your back though, man. She’s pissed as hell about you winning that race.”

  “I know.” I didn’t even want to race. She’s the one who started it by diving in. I wasn’t going to just stand there and look stupid. Besides, I thought maybe it would impress her. There’s a part of me that wants her to recognize that I’m strong too. Like her. I’m not trying to beat her, just trying to be right for her.

  “Maybe you should let her save face somehow.”

  “How?” I ask.

  Knight frowns. “I’m not sure. Let her demonstrate the next drill? You figure it out.”

  I don’t think I will. If she needs her pride back she’s going to have to do it herself. Tr
ying to help her just seems like a good way to get chewed up and spat back out. I look down at my plan for training, wet from swimming, though the Bic scrawl remains unsmeared.

  I look down the list. River drills. CPR. In-water Heimlich, followed by a timed backboarding competition. The guards love those. Maybe I could set one of those up and put her on a good team and me on a bad one?

  No, she has to get her pride back on her own. I already decided that and I’m sticking to it. I pull a pen out of my board shorts and scratch out the last item on the list. Free swim. I’d been planning to use that time to talk to Ally, but now I’m worried that if I give her any free time, she’ll challenge me to another inane competition or yell at me.

  I don’t know why she even wants to compete with me. We should be teammates.

  By the time I reach the guard room, Ally is walking out, followed by several guards. They’re always around her, and they seem to be teasing her, so I keep an eye on that and follow behind them.

  People like to tease her, she’s really funny when she gets worked up and starts threatening you and punching your arm.

  I got my first arm punch today. Can’t say how many times I’ve seen her do it to someone else and wished it was me getting even that kind of attention from her.

  Oh man, when did I get so messed up that I’d be pleased with any attention from a girl, including hitting me?

  “Oh come on Ally,” Sam, one of the newer guards, says. “If you’re so desperate for a kiss, I’ll give you one.” I glare at Sam’s dopey face, but he’s not looking at me.

  I’m sure Ally can handle it. I should get changed. So why am I stuffing the training plans in my pocket and following behind them instead?

  She stops by the pool, hands on her hips, and turns to Sam. “Not that desperate.”

  “What about me, Ally?” Sam’s buddy Matt pushes Sam out of the way. “Desperate enough for me?”

  She rolls her eyes and looks down at the clipboard she’s brought with her out of the break room after changing. She looks past the boys harassing her and starts marking attendance.

  I’m staring at them open mouthed, but she must be used to this. After all, she works in her swimsuit with teenage boys all day. But my fingers are still itching to knock their heads together.

  Control, Ryan. We’re all about control.

  Then Sam leans in, his hand reaching around Ally’s waist as she sways away from him, a disgusted look on her face.

  Control, what control? I grab him by the back of the neck and throw him towards the pool, where he lands facedown with a huge splash. Several guards gasp around me, and Sam thrashes to a standing position and glares up.

  “What the hell?”

  “No fraternization,” I mumble.

  Ally turns to me, mouth open in shock, like she’s at war with herself about whether to be angry or pleased.

  She decides on angry. “I could have handled that.”

  “Ryan just threw Sam in the pool!” Matt shouts from behind us. He sidles up to me and ribs me with his elbow. “Nice catch man, she yours now?”

  I want to say yes. But she isn’t. “She isn’t property,” I say quietly. Matt’s face falls, but Ally looks at me for a moment as if caught off guard.

  She shakes it off and turns to Matt and Sam. “Another five hundred each for harassment. Now. And if I catch you doing that to any of the girl guards, you’ll be out of here.” She pushes Matt in, and waits for them to start swimming before turning to me.

  “What the hell were you doing?”

  “Protecting you,” I mumble. Isn’t that obvious?

  “Well don’t,” she says, looking flustered. “I was handling it myself.”

  “What if I wanted to handle it?” I ask, coming close to her, pulling on her clipboard to pull her closer to me. “Why can’t I handle it if I want to?”

  She blushes and pulls hair back off her forehead. “So now you can talk.” She gives up on the clipboard and flips around, giving me her back. “Totally silent when you want me to look like a liar to Knight, but now you can talk.”

  I don’t get why she’s so hung up on this talking thing. I wish I could kiss her again. I feel like I could explain more to her that way anyway. But I don’t want her telling Knight again. Moreover, if she had to tell Knight, maybe she didn’t really like me doing it, in which case, I don’t want to do it again.

  Why don’t people realize words make things more complicated, not less complicated? You can lie with them, tell half truths, or whole truths. The only thing that distinguishes between those is body language. Body language doesn’t lie.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “For?” she says sharply, still not facing me.

  “Winning?”

  She sighs, so I try again.

  “Not speaking up with Knight?”

  Another sigh, this one angrier.

  “Protecting you?”

  She turns to me, eyes blazing, and grabs the clipboard back out of my startled hands. She jabs me in the chest with it. “Look, I don’t need your apologies, or your pity, or your protection. I’m your competition. So just stay out of my way, okay?”

  “Okay,” I lie. I’m not going to stay out of her way. I like her. I even like the way she hits me with stuff that doesn’t actually hurt. It’s cute.

  I rub my chest where she’s jabbed it multiple times and try not to grin because it’ll just make her angry. She blows her hair out of her face with an exasperated puff, and looks down at the clipboard, marking a few more names. Then she hands it to me.

  “You do the rest. I’m going to get back in my suit for drills. You can be the one on deck.”

  “But—” I want to be where she is. In the water, out of it, anywhere.

  Oh no, I’m like a stalker.

  She shakes her head. “No, Mister. You don’t get it. You’re my competition. You’re on my bad list. I’m going to take you down. Not during training. Not when we’re working with the guards. But other than that, you watch your back.” She sticks out her tongue. “Asshole.”

  It’s like she’s five and I’m the seven year old neighbor boy next door that she keeps pushing in the mud.

  I can’t tell if she likes me and she’s just immature about it, or if she really thinks we are enemies. She storms off and I can see she’s gesturing with her hands and talking to herself angrily as she passes guards on her way to the guard room.

  I follow her at a safe distance. I’m already in my suit, but I’m going to get an extra towel and run drills with her. They don’t need me on deck. She’s already changed and leaving by the time I reach the guard room. She watches me go to my locker and pull out a towel, rather than deck clothes, and she scowls. I smile pleasantly at her and head out to the deck.

  “Just stay out of my way. Asshole,” she mutters as she pushes me aside and hurries past me.

  Oh dear.

  At lunch, I wait by the guard room until she comes out. She’s pulling a sleeveless, ragged hoodie on and doesn’t see me at first when she walks by. I walk beside her, waiting for her to look over and notice I’m here.

  When she does, she jumps.

  “Freak, whatchu sneaking up on people for?” She gives me a push and walks ahead without looking back.

  “Ally…”

  She turns, still moving backwards, hands in her hoodie pockets, and glares at me as she kicks backward to open the door behind her, then swings through it. I rush to keep up.

  She’s like a hurricane, constantly moving and changing and it’s all I can do to keep up.

  She stops in front of an old Chrysler LeBaron. It’s got a metallic blue custom paint job, a black top, and spinning rims. It leaves me speechless for a moment.

  “Jealous?” She runs a hand over the top. “She’s my baby. Put in a new tranny myself. All mine.”

  I guess her car is her soft spot.

  “Anyway, why are you following me?”

  “Lunch?”

  “With you?” She grins, then full on la
ughs. “Not on your life,” she says, slapping her knee.

  “I want to see how your car runs.”

  She stops and turns back to me, eyes narrowing. I’ve got her. “Like butter.” She runs her hand along the top. “She’s jumpy as hell and accelerates like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Really? But it’s, well, old.”

  Her silver eyes flash in anger, unbelievably attractive to me in her transparency. I get lost in words, but I understand what she’s saying now perfectly.

  She walks to the passenger side and opens the door, then makes a sweeping motion for me to get in. Like a butler. I sit, amused, but when I reach for the door to close it she shakes her head. She closes it slowly, lifting it gently and setting it against the frame till it clicks closed with a light clanking sound.

  Then she walks back to her side and slides in. She buckles up and waits for me to do the same.

  “What’s wrong with the door?”

  She pulls sunglasses from the glove compartment and slides them on. “It’s broken.”

  “Why?”

  “You into cars? It brings out the chatterbox.”

  I shrug. “I’m interested in you.”

  She sighs and pulls out of the parking lot. “You’re barking up the wrong effing tree. I’m not into that.”

  “Into what?”

  She palms the wheel around a corner and turns the radio on. “Bose speakers, nice huh?”

  “Sure,” I reply.

  She pulls into a parking lot in front of a cheap Chinese dive. “You’ll like this place. It’s cheap.” She hops out and gets my door. I hate it, but I don’t want to break it further either.

  She shuts the door again, with equal care.

  “Why don’t you get it fixed?” I ask.

  She shrugs and jams her hands in her pockets again as she walks forward. “Haven’t had time. Happened right before I moved. Spent everything getting away. I’ll have to save a bit more. That’s why you have to watch your ass, I’m gunning for that promotion and you’d better stay out of the way.”