The Anti-Delinquent System

T h i r t e e n : Wet and Wild

Then, he smiles slightly and pulls out my hair pin.

"I'll need this to pick the lock," he says, brandishing the thin metal pin in front of my face. He's biting back a smile when he turns to the door lock beside me, but the tell-tale laughter dances in his voice and incriminates him. He teased me on purpose.

"You're an asshole," I mutter.

He grins at the lock, continuing to twist the pin. "I know. It's so fun."

With a particularly loud click, the building door unlocks and Chase swings it open. He gestures for me to enter, that particularly irritating smile still sitting proudly in his features.

Rolling my eyes and ignoring the coiling anxiety in my stomach, I step into the building. The pungent stench of chlorine clings to the humid air, instantly overwhelming my senses. As we walk past the seating stands where Miko will hide, the pool is finally visible: a turquoise rectangle in the centre of the room, irresistibly calm. It's a stage for tonight's events. I swallow, and glance at the changing rooms on the right side.

"Should we-" I begin to ask, twisting around. "Oh!"

Chase's shirt is already up and over his head. He peels it free from his arm and drops it, puddling cotton on the tiles. His toned chest commands no less attention in the subdued lighting.

"You're wearing your swimming costume under your clothes, aren't you?"

"Yes," I mumble, my voice oddly thick as I watch him kick his sneakers off.

"So, take them off, Monroe." His head cocks to the side. His eyes seem darker in this lighting, and they spark like hot coals. "Or do you want me to do it for you?"

"Very funny."

"Suit yourself." The last thing I see is his smile before he twists, runs and throws himself easily into the pool. Water splashes my legs from the collision of his body with the water, and laps into the drains at the pool perimeter. When he emerges, his hair is inky dark and dripping down his forehead. Droplets cling to his cheekbones, his septum, the swell of his bottom lip.

This boy is deliciously dangerous.

Averting my gaze from him, I take a deep breath and undo the button of my shorts. Swiftly, like ripping off a band-aid, I slide them down my legs and push them into the little pile beside his t-shirt. Without removing my long-sleeved top, I take a few running steps and cannonball into the swimming pool.

Water swells around me, invading every crevice of my body and face to greet me. When I finally pop up to the surface, it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust past the blurring droplets. I smooth the hair away from my face and wipe my nose. Chase is swimming a few feet away in the water, leaning back until the reverberating waves of my arrival kiss his Adam's apple.

"Why did you keep your shirt on?" He asks, confused.

"I just prefer to keep it on."

Chase continues to look at me, as if he needs more explanation. I try again.

"I just...feel more comfortable covered up."

Chase frowns, his tongue darting out to catch a bead of water on his lip. "Okay, but you have no reason to be self-conscious, you know."

Betraying me, my eyes flit to the seating area where Miko will inevitably hide to make the recording of us. This moment feels too private, too dangerously intimate, and I almost long to see her raven coloured space buns sticking out from amongst the rows of empty seats.

"Thanks, I just-" My words stick in my throat as I look back at Chase, and I struggle to dislodge them. "My eczema is pretty bad on my arms at the moment. It's not pretty."