Perfect (Book Two)

Seven: O Captain, My Captain.

"All right," she heard herself saying.

"Awesome." Lauren patted her hand. She reached into one of her many cardboard boxes of T-shirts and handed one to Emily. "For you. A start-of-the-season present."

Emily opened it up. It said, Gay Girls: Slippery When Wet. She looked at Lauren, her throat cottony dry. Lauren knew?

Lauren cocked her head. "It's in reference to the stroke," she said slowly. "You know, butterfly?"

Emily looked at the shirt again. It didn't say gay girls. It said fly girls. "Oh," she croaked, folding the T-shirt. "Thanks."

She left Lauren's office and walked through the natatorium lobby on shaky legs. The room was crammed full of swimmers, all here for the Tank. Then she paused, suddenly aware that someone was looking at her. Across the room, she saw Ben, her ex-boyfriend, leaning up against the trophy case. His stare was intense, he didn't blink. Emily's skin prickled and heat rose to her cheeks. Ben smirked and turned to whisper something to his best friend, Seth Cardiff. Seth laughed, glanced again at Emily, and whispered something back to Ben. Then they both snickered.

Emily hid behind a crowd of kids from St. Anthony's.

This was another reason why she wanted to quit swimming—so she wouldn't have to spend every day after school with her ex-boyfriend, who did know. He'd caught Maya and Emily in a more-than-just-friends moment at Noel's party on Friday.

She pushed into the empty hallway that led to the girls' and boys' locker rooms, thinking again about A's latest note. It was weird, but when Emily read the text in Maya's hotel bathroom, it was almost like she could hear Ali's voice. Except that was impossible, right? Besides, Ben was the only person who knew about Maya. Maybe he'd somehow found out that Emily had tried to kiss Ali. Could...could Ben be A?

"Where are you going?"

Emily whirled around. Ben had followed her into the hall. "Hey." Emily tried to smile. "What's up?"

Ben was wearing his shredded Champion sweats—he thought they brought him good luck, so he wore them to every meet. He'd re-buzzed his hair over the weekend. It made his already angular face look severe. "Nothing's up," he answered nastily, his voice echoing off the tile walls. "I thought you were quitting."

Emily shrugged. "Yeah, well, I guess I changed my mind."

"Really? You were so into it Friday. Your girlfriend seemed so proud of you."

Emily looked away. "We were drunk."

"Right." He took a step toward her.

"Think what you want." She turned for her locker room. "And that text you sent didn't scare me."

Ben furrowed his eyebrows. "What text?"

She stopped. "The text that says you're going to tell everyone," she said, testing him.

"I didn't write you any texts." Ben tilted his chin. "But...I might tell everyone. You being a dyke is a juicy little story."

"I'm not gay," Emily said through her teeth.

"Oh yeah?" Ben took a step closer. His nostrils flared in and out. "Prove it."

Emily barked out a laugh. This was Ben. But then he lunged forward, wrapped his hand around Emily's wrist, and pushed her against the water fountain.

She breathed in sharply. Ben's breath was hot on her neck and smelled like grape Gatorade. "Stop it," she whispered, trying to squirm away.

Ben needed just one strong arm to hold her down. He pressed his body up against hers. "I said, prove it."

"Ben, stop." Frightened tears came to her eyes. She swatted at him tentatively, but his movements just became more forceful. He ran his hand up her chest. A small squeak escaped her throat.

"There a problem?"

Ben stepped back suddenly. Behind them on the far side of the hall stood a boy in a Tate Prep warm-up jacket. Emily squinted. Was that...?

"It's none of your business, man," Ben said loudly.

"What isn't any of my business?" The boy stepped closer. It was.

Toby Cavanaugh.

"Dude." Ben twisted around.

Toby's eyes moved down to Ben's hand on Emily's wrist. He nudged his chin up at Ben. "What's the deal?"

Ben glared at Emily, then let go of her. She shot away from him, and Ben used his shoulder to shove open the boys' locker room door. Then, silence.

"You all right?" Toby asked.

Emily nodded, her head down. "I think so."

"You sure?"

Emily sneaked a peek at Toby. He was really tall now, and his face was no longer rodentlike and guarded but, well, high-cheek-boned and dark-eyed gorgeous. It made her think of the other part of A's note. Although most of us have totally changed...

Her knees felt wobbly. It couldn't be...could it?

"I have to go," she mumbled, and ran, her arms outstretched, into the girls' locker room.