Prophecy by Julie Anne Lindsey Read Free Book Online Page A

natatorium. Coach’s only condition was I couldn’t tell anyone about our arrangement or he’d end up playing lifeguard to two dozen kids, so I’d only told Justin and Allison, neither of whom had any interest in swimming. I assumed the rest of the school felt the same way.
    Swim season ran from November first until mid-March. We practiced four days a week as a team. I practiced seven days a week, unless work interrupted my routine. The faint scent of chlorine filtered down the hallway to meet me. I slowed to check my phone as I walked. Footfalls echoed behind me and I turned, hoping to see a janitor and not a nosy student wondering where I was headed. Liam stopped thirty feet behind me and stared.
    I turned back toward the pool, unsure what to do. If he followed me to the pool, I’d have to pretend I needed something from Coach and go home without my swim. I detested the idea. I’d never needed a swim this bad. On the other hand, I could pretend something had occurred to me, turn on my toes, and head back the way I came. Unfortunately, I couldn’t force myself to pass Liam in the long, empty hallway, so I kept moving forward, willing to miss my swim if it came to that.
    I checked over my shoulder. He was new to the school. Maybe he was lost. I picked up the pace and checked again. Liam moved at a snail’s pace, still far away.
    My phone buzzed in my palm. A text from Justin. Sure you don’t want a ride home?
    I wasn’t. I wasn’t sure of anything except maybe I needed medication or yoga or something.
    I took another look behind me and stopped short. Liam was gone. I’m fine. I texted Justin back, ducking into the girls’ locker room where I could hyperventilate in private for no good reason.
     

Chapter 4
     
    I sat on a bench inside the locker room, examining the familiar pink tiled walls and acknowledging my asinine reaction to some guy in a hallway. My toes pressed against the cool concrete floor, anchoring me, soothing my nerves. Cumulatively, I’d spent days in this locker room. The sights, scents, and sounds around me were safe, comforting, home. Liam Hale had followed me down the natatorium hallway. So what? I shouldn’t care. It didn’t matter. I hustled into my suit and swim cap.
    My mind bounced back into forbidden territory before I donned flip-flops. Where had he gone and why? The only escape was a broom closet, the pool ahead of me, and locker room doors. He hadn’t run past me to the pool and I doubted he’d needed anything from the janitor’s supply closet. In a true show of paranoia, I stilled and listened keenly for someone hidden among the lockers.
    “Get a grip, Callie,” I murmured.
    Coach’s whistle blew. Thick block walls muffled the sound, but I’d recognize the sharp warning anywhere. Curious and thankful for the motivation, I closed my locker, spun the lock, and tossed a towel over one shoulder. Electricity zinged through my limbs, carrying me to the pool with haste, anticipating the nearness of a long swim. My heart leapt as I rounded the corner from locker room to pool. The water called to me. Chlorine clung in the humid air of the back hallway linking locker rooms to the pool entrance. I tugged the steamy glass door open and inhaled, enjoying the twitch of my muscles, eager to dive in and swim a mile before contemplating the day’s nonsense.
    I threw my towel against the wall and left my flip-flops beside it. Coach stood at the far end of the pool holding a clipboard and nodding at someone in the water. A tendril of frustration drifted up my spine. This was my secret swim time. I liked the solitude. Coach nodded at me as I moved in his direction. I supposed if this other swimmer was any good, I might benefit from a lap partner to push me when I grew lazy or unfocused. Silver linings weren’t my specialty, but a partner had potential.
    Long arms cut steady strokes through rippling water as I traversed the pool’s edge to meet Coach halfway.
    Coach never took his eyes off