Hello Everyone!
• Don't forget to like & comment, I love to hear from you!
Early Thursday morning starts with a text. From me. To Levi Saints. Admitting defeat.
I officially give up on your shoes. I type out.
The shoes in question sit in front of me. After spending too much of my time cleaning these shoes so I wouldn't have to fork out the dollars it would take to replace them, I finally gave up.
They don't look...terrible.
Sure, there's a slightly darker stain that, for the life of me, I couldn't seem to get out, no matter what type of warfare I raged against it. But they didn't look unwearable. Would I personally wear them? No, but that's only because I know what I did to them in the first place.
I'm brushing my teeth in the bathroom when he texts back.
You put up a good fight —Levi Saints.
Two seniors sit in front of the vanity, curling their hair and excitedly chatting about the party this weekend and the official start of Rush Week.
I only lasted a week and a bit! My lips twitch as I shove things into my shower caddy. This time it barely takes him a minute to respond.
I said good, not long —Levi Saints.
Asshole. Rolling my eyes, I lean forward and throw my hair into a ponytail. Before I have a chance to reply, there's another text waiting.
Can you drop them off with me later today? Or this morning? —Levi Saints.
Weighing the options, it's easy to decide that no, I don't want to spend the entire day walking around with his shoes. Class only starts in a little over an hour and a half, a fact Nova has repeatedly me texted this morning in hopes that I don't sleep through class...again.
Hallie and Nova's respective classes have already begun, so I'm making the treacherous seven-minute walk to campus this morning.
Thankfully, this class is a sociology one so paying attention isn't necessary if we're being honest.
After a few minutes of back-and-forth texting, we agree that I'll meet him at the Campus Aquatics Center. I'm lucky I live on Greek Row near all the athletics fields, stadiums, and centers otherwise I'd have no idea how to get there.
The house is in a slow but building frenzy when I make it downstairs. Some of my sorority sisters have already started setting up some decorations for Friday. Furniture has been pushed out of the way, and some of the bigger pieces were moved to the basement where we keep extra storage.
Gianna doesn't even scold me for standing in her way when I reach the dining room. She just places her hands on my waist and moves me to the side wordlessly, handing me a short list of my share of decorating tasks to complete before the party. Okay then.
My eyes squint at one item in particular. "Alcohol?" I mutter to myself. "Gianna, I'm not even legal!" I yell at her back, watching her walk into the kitchen.
Gianna waves a hand in the air, her stride not slowing. "Figure it out."
My eyes scan the rest of the list and I groan, calling out loudly, "Why am I on catfight duty?" The question is met with silence.
Helpful. With hellos and short conversations with the girls sitting around eating their breakfast, I grab a ham and cheese croissant and make my way out the door.
Campus is quiet, with most morning classes already in progress. This leaves the rest of us with enough time to sleep in a little longer. Only a few stragglers wander the pathways, reading books or drinking coffee.
Chesley's Aquatic Center sits right next to the Ice Hockey Rink. They share a large parking lot that stretches far enough to connect to the Football Stadiums parking lot further down the street. What I'm gathering from this is that most of this section of the campus is a parking lot.
I've been a student for almost three years and have not once visited these places.
Wait. That's a lie. My professor made us sit on the football field for class once in freshmen year. Twenty minutes into that class, he quickly realized how sitting in direct sunlight while wearing an all-black suit was probably not his smartest idea. Safe to say we never ventured outdoors again for the rest of the semester.
Banners decorate the surrounding lampposts along the pathway the closer we get to the Aquatics Center. They're decorated in our school colors with the school's mascot, followed by the sport and year that championships were won.
Hmm, looks like the football team won something last year.
In high school I didn't have much of a school spirit nor did I do much supporting, especially after Homecoming sophomore year. I shudder thinking about it. So it's safe to assume that just because I'm a student at Chesley University, doesn't automatically mean that was going to change my lack of school spirit.
That's not to say that I hate athletes, I disliked athletes that were assholes. As I did regular assholes too, athletic assholes are just on another level in my opinion.
I have to ring a buzzer to get into the Aquatics Center. Apparently, these places are heavily protected and athletes need special IDs to enter from what Levi briefly explained in our text messages.
Leaning my head closer to the door, I peek inside, surveying the empty lobby. I press the button again, hearing the faint buzzing from inside, and watch a woman with a clipboard jog into view to the lone desk. She gives me a thumbs up and a click echoes.
Pulling open the double doors, the pungent smell of chemicals assaults my nose, causing the back of my throat to burn. My nose scrunches at the smell as I pass through the air-conditioned lobby.
"Can I help you?" She asks politely, scanning my attire, quickly realizing from just a short glance that I am not one of their swimmers.
Brushing my hands together anxiously I give her an awkward smile. "I'm here to drop something off for Levi Saints?" I say but the way it comes out sounds more like a question.
She nods slowly, her eyes running over me again before she purses her lips. "Sure, he's right through those doors. He's just about finished his practice."
With a quiet thank you, I shuffle over to the doors she gestured and yank them open, letting a waft of humid air, that immediately clings to my skin, hit me. I can almost feel my hair start to frizz in this space.
How do people survive in this place? Who willingly wants to spend time in this humidity besides Floridians?
Walking into the part where the actual swimming pools are, brings me to a standstill in the doorway. This place is massive.
There are two swimming pools enclosed in this space. One looks like a standard swimming pool with various-sized diving boards and wide steps to walk in easily. One person is standing at the top of the highest diving board, shouting down at who I presume is their coach.
The other pool is a standard competition-sized swimming pool complete with lane dividers and starting blocks. The water splashes as swimmers race to one edge in a simple freestyle stroke.
The hard plastic bleachers hold a few students, some sitting in their maroon swimsuits while others hang around in tracksuit pants, and some of them are wearing matching maroon and white tracksuit jackets too. They seem so comfortable and yet I can practically feel the sweaty pit stains forming on my thin baggy t-shirt.
A whistle blows at one end of the swimming pool.
"Becca! If I see that pink phone case one more time, the phone will disappear for the rest of the day!" The coach yells across the pool to where a student sits on one of the bleachers, bright pink phone case in hand. She scrambles to shove it into her bag.
Standing next to the exit, perfectly hidden by the bleachers, I silently scan the center for Levi. Assuming he's in the pool since he's nowhere else unless he's in the locker rooms—does this place have locker rooms? I scoff to myself. Of course, they do.
The whistle blows again and I immediately glance toward Becca, trying to see if she's been caught out again but find one of the swimmers floating against the wall, talking to the coach standing above him.
Levi.
With no help at all, he braces himself and pulls his body out of the pool, giving me the perfect advantage to shamelessly enjoy the show.
I mean...Wow.
The water itself deserves an Oscar for best-supporting actor just by the way it glistens against his chest as droplets fall to the ground. His arms—Lord his arms. I can't even think. They're defined but lean, like the rest of him. He's not bulky like some athletes but from one look in his direction, you can tell they're not for show.
He yanks off the maroon silicone swimming cap, tugging off his goggles at the same time, and runs a hand over his face, flicking away the drops of water.
I swallow roughly, shaking my head once to banish the thoughts threatening to run through my mind. Subtly, I bring my hand to my mouth and wipe the corner of it just in case.
By the time I snap back to reality, one of the girls has said something to him that makes him roll his eyes, a passive look on his face. They laugh like it was the expected response. That moment alone ceases any further objectification on my part and I clear my throat, stepping into the space, making my presence visible in his direct line of sight.
One by one, eyes swing in the direction of the girl hiding by the door, wearing a pair of jeans with a baggy shirt and sneakers, blatantly out of place with all the athletic gear littering the bleachers.
Levi holds a towel over his face, using it to wipe his chest too when he makes eye contact with me. His towel drops onto one of the plastic chairs before he heads in my direction, running his hands over his tight curls.
One of the swimmers stands from her seat, trying to get a better look at my face. I slowly angle my body away from their prying eyes.
I smile when one of them scoffs. "Hey, Superstar."
The corner of his mouth turns up the slightest bit. "You've gotta stop calling me that, my ego is big enough as it is," he says in lieu of a greeting. He stands in front of me, effectively blocking me from any curious eyes. "How was your party?"
Shrugging my shoulders, I act nonchalant. "Kicked some ass at cards, ended the night handcuffed to a friend with a brain freeze after being dared to down the rest of the margarita blender. And then I woke up safe and sound in my friend's bed the next morning." His eyes grow wide with alarm but I smile easily. "So overall a successful night."
He chuckles, highlighting the little dimple on his cheek that makes me smile. "Sounds like one hell of a time." He slides his bottom lip between his teeth. "Throw up on anyone?" He asks lightly.
I smile proudly. "Nope, you'll be pleased to know my bodily fluids stayed in my body this time." I pretend to flick my hair over my shoulder and he shakes his head, fighting a laugh. My backpack slides off my shoulder and hits the ground. I bend down to grab his shoes. "And I'll have you know, I don't make it a habit to throw up on people, you were just lucky."
He snorts, raising an eyebrow. "Lucky? Is that what we're calling it?"
I look up at him with a teasing smile and a wink as I pull out his shoes. A grimace mars my smile when I see the obvious stain left on his shoes. "I—uh, I did my best." I'm suddenly shy. A pressing weight hits me at the thought of not doing enough to clean them. "Sorry, again," I say in a soft voice, handing them out to him.
With a practiced neutral expression, he takes the shoes from my hand, giving them a once over. "Thanks, they look," he struggles to find any form of compliment and I don't blame him, "fine."
I laugh. "They look like shit," I say point blank.
His lips twitch. "No...they're," he struggles to find anything nice to say while I wait patiently, "unique." I give him a pointed look. "One of a kind."
I bite my bottom lip, trying not to laugh. "It's fine you can say they're terrible, I promise not to be offended. If I were you, I'd burn them." He tugs on the laces before dropping his arm, letting them hang at his side.
He doesn't say anything. And I don't say anything. But he's looking at me. And then I physically cannot handle the silence so I break it. "So, this is where you do all your...swimming?" I say, staring at the giant swimming pool.
I am so stupid.
Levi tilts his head to the side, amused. At least he thought it was funny, even if it was at the expense of my stupidity. "Have you ever been in here?" he questions, watching me take it all in.
I shake my head once. "Nope, when I came on a college tour in high school, I opted to see the college bars that were less likely to card underage drinkers instead of all the athletics stuff." That was the first time I thought a tour guide was truly helpful in educating me on something important.
That dimple appears again and I can't help but smile when I see it. "At least you had your priorities sorted."
I'm about to agree with him when a voice interrupts us. "Is Levi Saints laughing?" My eyes dart to the girl from earlier that was yelled at by the coach. Becca. I didn't see her walk over. She steps up to us, and I have to take my own step back to avoid brushing against her.
She's tall. Probably 5'10, maybe even 5'11. And lean, her physique showcases the number of hours she puts into her sport. And gorgeous. Like even with half-dry swim cap frizzy hair. Her smile is bright and teasing, with a little shine in her green eyes.
Glancing back at Levi, his smile has dropped completely, leaving him with a blank expression. Feeling like this is some sort of repeat reaction from the other night at the outdoor restaurant with his friends.
After spending an uncomfortable silence staring at Levi, she twists to face me. "I don't know you. I'm Becca."
An unbearable feeling creeps through my chest as her eyes rake over me. I want to shuffle my feet under her scrutiny of my appearance but I don't. I don't move. Instead, I adopt an unbothered expression. "Perrie."
"Wow," she says with fake enthusiasm any other woman would be able to spot a mile away, "What a unique name." Her underlying jab with the tone she uses isn't lost on me. I am in no mood.
I offer her a half-hearted smile. "Unlike the name Becca, right? Which is so...plain sounding," I say, pretending to grasp the word. "You'd get lost in a crowd with that kind of name." I blink innocently to seal the deal.
Your name is basic, bitch.
Becca bristles. I smile wider. She clears her throat and turns to Levi. "Coach wants a word about lap times for butterfly."
Levi doesn't look at her, his eyes stay on me, the remnants of a smirk on his lips. "Yeah, fine, I'll be there in a second," he says, his voice deeper and monotonous.
Blinking slowly, she registers that he's dismissing her. I curl my lips into my mouth so I don't make any sudden noises. I'm tempted to wave her off. Is that too much? Watching her judging eyes pointedly rake over sends a silent wave of insecurity to wash over me. Her message is clear. You're not his type.
Now it's my turn to wipe the expression off my face. I clear my throat, hiking my backpack onto my shoulder more securely. "Well, I better go, I'm meeting—"
"Your boyfriend?" He asks so quickly, I pause, taken aback.
Boyfriend?
Does he think I have a boyfriend? Me?
I don't—I don't know how to move forward from that question.
Me?
Seeing him staring at me, waiting patiently for my mouth to sync up with my brain, I blink. "You think I have a boyfriend?" Okay, Perrie, calm down, try not to sound too shocked by his assumption.
Levi's head tilts a fraction to the side. "The guy from the food court last week...the one that was hanging on you?"
My eyebrows furrow, trying to think if he's talking about Charlie or Jonah.
"The one with the short black hair?" He asks.
"Oh, Jonah. Yeah him, no," I answer, cursing myself for how unhelpful that sentence was. "Jonah's like my annoying brother that you sometimes want to smother in his sleep."
He quirks an eyebrow. "He called you babes," he states, shuffling on his feet.
I shrug. "He's Jonah," I say for lack of a better explanation. "I wouldn't be surprised if he called you babes and he doesn't even know you." He nods absentmindedly, looking to the side where the pool is. Sensing the silence creeping back in, I say, "Okay, glad we cleared that up, and I am going to leave you to...swim." I gesture to the pool, pasting a smile on my face.
He opens his mouth to say something but I turn away. After a couple of seconds, I'm at the door but I stop and twist to face him. He's standing there, eyes a little lower than where my eyes are. They snap to my face and he shakes his head playing off like I didn't just catch him staring at my ass.
"You're sure you're not mad about the shoes?" I ask one last time, still feeling guilty for ruining them. I get it okay. I'm a worried overthinker. I can't help it. I blame my mother.
Levi's lips pull up into a genuine smile. A rare smile I know he doesn't show to everyone. Seeing it almost forces you to take in another lungful of air. His head dips. "I'm sure, Perrie. If anything I've got a fun story to tell people."
I grimace. "Please for the love of God, don't mention my name, the last thing I need is college girls coming after me for ruining their Superstar's shoes," I tease playfully, shooting him a quick smile and exiting the humid pool area.
Right before the door closes, I hear him say, "Don't worry, I'll protect you from the swarm." I bite my lower lip all the way to the other side of campus.
|| ✨ ||
Honestly, I didn't want to drag out the whole shoe thing. If they're not clean in a couple of weeks...I would simply ✨give up✨
Question: Where is your safe space? Be it at home, at school, or in the water.
Until next time,
Sammipott xx