I scramble off the diving board a few second after everyone else.
Fuck.
This seems to be a regular occurrence, I always seem to be a step behind Oliver. Always scrambling behind him in a haste. Always the one reacting to the moves he makes. It sucks.
Once I am in the water I try to blank my mind and focus on the race, on my movement. Usually, when I am racing all I think about Is winning. About the glory and the gold. But this time is different. Winning is not the prime thought on my mind this time.
I try not to think about it about what is really on my mind.
What bet?
Oliver who?
For the whole race, my mind is a mess. Just when my body was starting to work and my motion was starting to be more synchronised, my mind would fuck me up. It was overthinking too much.
Thankfully race finishes quickly enough. I didn't come last, but I didn't come first either. It is obvious who won the race. I know because he was a good few feet in front of everyone. I also know because every is currently sending him envious and impressed glances.
It's good for our team. I should be happy that Oliver has scored our team valuable points.
But I'm fucked off because that was not cool.
Who does that kind of shit? Who throws a bomb like that at someone before a race? LITERAL SECONDS before the race. Some people need to focus before diving. Some people need to actually be looking at the water before they dive.
I don't appreciate these mind games. He doesn't need mind games to win and he knows that. What is he playing at? What is he trying to achieve? Because last I checked the better I do—the better the team places.
My fingers grip the side of the pool as I try to regain my breath along with all the other swimmers. The other swimmers are all panting at the end of their lanes, looking at Oliver with distant envy. With stars in their eyes. I am starting to become familiar with the effect Oliver has on people. The way people are looking at him like they are right now.
But Oliver is looking at me.
He's looking at me and I can't look at him. My body is buzzing with adrenaline and twitchy,but my mind is tired. My bed has never been more wanted than now. A bonus would be I would be far away from him.
I mean, who knows I could have won? This could have been the time I finally bet him. But he distracted me, he made me fuck up. But my heart isn't in it today to be as pissed as I would normally be.
Out of my peripheral vision, I see him swim closer. He is breathing heavily, his lip curled and eyes glinting. He leans against the swimming lane divider between us, too close for comfort. His chest is heaving up and down as he tries to find his breath. Wet curls hang in his eyes and his jaw solid as stone. He doesn't say anything, just watches me. Waiting.
His breathing is harsh puffs of air, his lips parted slightly and eyes not wavering from me. I start fidgety under his gaze. My tired body is restless.
"What?" I snap, turning my head to finally look him in the eye. "Want congratulation? A compliment?"
His grin grows and he cocks his head to the side. "Yeah, I'd like that. Can I get that?"
I scoff, "Not from me, but don't worry I'm sure you will get plenty from everyone else." My voice dripping with anger.
He leans closer, his dark wet hair wet pushed back out of his face. Droplets of water clinging to his bronze skin and ridges of his chest become more defines as he moves closers. He looks like the devil. A delicious edible devil.
I look lower. He has a nice neck. He has a nice Adam apple attached to that neck too. I never knew necks could be so... attractive. And now I'm looking at his neck like a weirdo. I quickly divert my gaze, cheeks flushing.
He says nothing and just grins like an idiot. A happy idiot.
"Are you going to keep on smiling like that at me? Cause you look stupid." I say, shrugging unapologetically.
His lip twitches. My eyes are instantly drawn lower down his face. Pink. Soft. Fuckkk
"You gonna make me?" He arches a playful eyebrow.
My eyes raise to his in shock. Then they furrow.
"Oi, next race is about to happen boys!" One of the officials calls out to us. It is only then that I realise we are the only two swimmers still in the pool.
I get out of the pool ignoring Oliver's eyes burning holes into me. That was my last race for the day, and I fucked up nearly every race today. I don't think I have ever swum so badly at a competition in my life. And I don't think I have cared so little for the results in my life.
There's something wrong with me. I was mad—I am mad, I'm always mad (probably distantly related to the Hulk or something). But this time my anger Isn't directed towards my performance, towards my massive swimming disappointment. And that freaks me out.
I don't care. I don't care that I fucked up my races. I'm trying to care, but something that once seemed so valuable and wanted isn't as great anymore. I just feel empty. I wish I could talk to Henry, he would say something stupid that would make me laugh or get annoyed. That thought leaves a sinking feeling In my stomach.
I want my old self back. The one that got determined when he lost a race. That got mad when Oliver bet him. The one that cared. The one that doesn't feel like this empty shell of a person. That doesn't feel so... numb.
So I try to do just that. I support the rest of the team's races. I chat with Andy and try to be pissed about my races (because that is in character of me). I rebel against Oliver, whether it be from ignoring his simple commands or biting back with snarky comments. But it doesn't work. I just feel more tired. More numb.
I thought I hid it well. I thought no one would notice— that no one would care. But it seems Oliver instantly picked up on my bad mood. He sees right through me. Instead of getting mad, putting me in my pace, or even ignoring me, he does something unexpected. He grabs my arm and pulls me aside from everyone.
"Are you okay?" He asks brows furrowed and voice low and measure. Concern in his eyes.
I near god break down right in front of him. Something about that question just makes you realise how not okay everything is. I nearly goddamn cry like a fucking kid in front of him, tempted to sob into his shoulder and have him wrap his arms around me. To comfort me as I cry about Henry and how shit the world is. How unfair life is, to take someone so good away, so undeserving.
So I look away from his face before I crumble. Instead, I focus on a tree in the background. I keep a neutral expression on the outside, but inside I'm cracking. The walls made of sarcasm, anger, and meanness nearly crumble.
"Look, whatever is going on, whatever is pissing you off, I can help make it better." He says, his voice so gentle I have to check that he is the one saying it.
I open my mouth but don't have a chance to say anything.
"The bus is here!" One of the team members calls out.
I shake my head trying to rid the emotions out of me. I take that opportunity to walk past him and into the bus. I plug my earphones and blast music loud. Trying to drown out the thoughts in my head with music.
I can't believe I nearly talked to Oliver about it. To him... of people. God, I really must be losing it.
***
Back at the hotel and Coach is making us study before bed. We have tests coming up in a few weeks and he is strict about us getting good grades.
Tests are the last thing on my mind at the moment. I can't seem to think straight. My mind can't even read a goddamn sentence without my thoughts drifting. I grit my teeth, wishing I could be anywhere but here. I'm not in the best mindset to study right now—let alone to be around people. The company I am craving is a bottle of gin. That's company I would appreciate.
"You're going to fail your exams Beau if you don't study," Ryan says, eyeing me and my unopened book beside me.
Unlike me, everyone else has books and pens sprawled around them on the ground all working like good students. Yeah, fuck that.
I roll my eyes and Andy shoots me a side glance. We share an amused smirk.
Ryan looks between us with a confused expression. "What?"
Andy shakes his head smiling, "Beau doesn't need to study, Ryan. He is going to ace the test, he always does. I bet my money on Beau getting a better mark than you. He can answer all the questions in front of you without even opening the workbook."
I shoot Andy an annoyed look, I have better things to do with my time than show up arseholes like Ryan.
"Beau beat Ryan? No way. Ryan is a nerd, when he's not swimming he is in the library studying" Ben backs up.
I sigh leaning my head back against the wall closing my eyes. I really don't have the energy to deal with these people. Or just people in general.
"Alright, let's put him to the test then" Ryan smirks.
My eyes open and I give him an unimpressed look. "Why? Who cares?" I grunt.
"You scared I'm going to beat you, Lipski?" Ryan taunts.
"Beat me?" I laugh. "I'm more concerned I'm going to squash your pride and ego so small that even a bug has more," I say, closing my eyes again and resting my head back against the wall. Maybe that was harsh, but I'm not in the best of moods. I'm in a 'don't mess with me' mood. But it seems Ryan is getting the memo.
"That s a lot of talk Lipski, can you actually perform though? I mean, if it was anything like your races today... I would be worried." He leers.
My eyes flash open.
"Like you can perform, right? Because last I heard from your girlfriend you weren't too good in that department either..."
People hoot and whistle at the burn. The group is fully invested in the heating argument now. Watching back and forth between Ryan and me like we are their entrainment. Ryan is twitching in anger, an ugly expression twisting up his face. I can practically see the steam coming from his ears. "You're a dick" He snares.
"The biggest" I agree.
Oliver enters and the energy in the room changes. Everyone straightens their backs and eyes draw to him. I feel a charged energy in the room.
Oliver looks around the room, noticing tension and amusement. "What did I miss?"
"Oh, just Beau telling us how big his dick is," Sophie says, picking at her nails.
Oliver's eyes widen to the size of saucers, his mouth parting in shock."W-what" He stutters.
The room is silent for a second before everyone bursts out laughing. I roll my eyes my face giving away nothing, but can't help when my lip twitches a little.
"Okay stop talking about his..." He coughs, looking uncomfortable. "Get back to it, alright." He says, opening up his book. I swear his cheeks are a little redder and that makes the corner of my lip tug further.
***
Footsteps are behind me but I don't pay them any attention.
"Beau." A deep voice calls and I instantly know who it is. The last person I want to be around right now.
"Beau, I'm talking to you!" He calls out again.
I ignore him, continuing down the hallway into my room. He follows me in.
I pace the room clenching and unclenching my fists. So much anger and sadness bottled in me. It's too much. An article about Henry was released. I saw it when I was playing around on my phone and it brought all my feelings rushing back to me. I couldn't stand being in the room with everyone anymore so I left. But Oliver followed me out it seems.
I spin around to face him. "Fuck off Fowler, now's not a good time," I growl.
He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. "Look, I don't know what I did to piss you off? But I have been wracking my brain trying to figure it out, but I'm lost. So you're going to have to enlighten me, Beau, because it's starting to piss me off."
I stop my pacing and abruptly face him. Glaring up at him.
Old me. Old me would be mad about the race. I decided to give it to him straight. The way old me would. "I lost that race because of you."
He arches an amused and angry eyebrow.
"I could have won, but you... You fucking distracted me! And it fucked me up for the rest of the race." I growl, shoving his chest.
He barely steps back from the force of my push. But I don't stop there. I get in his face, exaggerating my height to its fullest yet it still doesn't seem to have anything on him.
"You made me lose." I say spitefully. And it feels good to let my anger out on him.
"For fucks sake Beau, you're mad at me because I 'distracted' you?"
"Yes," I breath.
He shakes his head. "I think you're bipolar," he grumbles under his breath so quietly I don't think I was supposed to hear it.
But I heard it. Oh, I fucking heard it.
My next actions may have not been the most... mature.
"Fuck you!" I growl, shoving his chest so hard he stumbles back into the back of the bed. Caught off guard he grabs my shirt pulling me down with him as he falls onto the bed.
My body is instantly aware of his under mine. He faces so close to my own, his body hard and firm under mine. I want to punch him so hard. I want to bite his lip harshly and tug his hair until he groans — wait... what?
Being so close to him is messing with my mind. I try to get off of him but he grabs my collar pulling me right back. I use my arms supporting me to try keep as much distance as he allows with his firm grip on my collar.
"I didn't mean to offend you, Beau, I just think maybe that explains your fluctuating moods," he says calmly, watching for my reaction.
"I'm not bipolar" I grunt. "You fucked me off, you distracted me," I say, trying to convince myself in the process.
He hums, biting his lower lip. "Right, I apologise. I didn't realise I was such a distraction to you." He hums, tugging my collar so our faces are closer. I hesitate for a minute at our proximity, but I'm too determined to not back down that I don't move back.
"Yeah," I grumble. "So quit it." I add, glad he is finally understanding.
"Should I wear more clothing? Would that be less of a distraction to you?"
"W-what..? N-no, I meant that—"
"Because I can, to not distract you..."
"I-I didn't mean th—"
"I can also avoid touching you, if that helps?" He interrupts again, a teasing tone to his voice.
My face burns.
I am going to kill this guy.
"I meant. the race. At the start of the race." I manage to get out of my tight jaw. I try to get off him again but he tugs me back down again. I am starting to get frustrated with him.
"Oh," he nods as if remembering. "You mean when I told you decided what I wanted as my prize?" He says cocking his head to the side, eyes sparkling.
"Yes," I grit out.
"Were you distracted by thinking about what I wanted as my prize?"
I don't respond, he knows the answer. His grin lengthens.
"Would you like to know what I want as my prize, Beau?"
I am clenching my jaw so tight that my muscles are hurting. "What do you want?" I grunt lowly, becoming increasingly aware of the space between us—or more accurately the space not between us.
He grins a moment longer like he enjoys watching me like this. I can tell he enjoys having something over me.
"A double date." He says simply.
"...w-what?" I say shocked.
"I have a girl I might go going on a date with, and her friend needs a date... I thought I could help you out in the process too." He says simply.
I am nonplussed. Thrown off guard. I didn't think he would want me to go on a double date with him...
He speaks again. "I know you're not the best kisser, so I thought she could help you out, teach you a few things..."
It takes a second for his words to kick in. And when it does I'm really to strangle they guy.
"Bad kisser?! I'm not a bad kisser!" I defend, my anger barely contained.
He hums. "Really? Cause last time we kissed after the party, you were... well..." He shrugs under me, his eyes glinting.
"You're lying." I say in disbelief, eyes searching his face for indications he's lying. "I'm an amazing kisser. The best."
"I don't know about that..." He chuckles lazily, looking amused as his eyes drift lower down my face.
My eye twitches. That's it, I am going to prison for murdering this guy.
"I. am good. Unbelievably, mind blowingly talented actually." I spit.
His eyes flick back to me. They are darker. Challenging. Exited?
"Prove it." He dares, his voice almost hoarse.
"what?"
"If you're not a bad kisser then. prove. it." He declares.
"I-I can't do it right now..."
He releases my collar and lifts himself onto his elbows, attempted to get up. "That's what I thought." He sighs, "it's alright Beau, I've heard your date is a good kisser, maybe she can—"
I slam my lips onto his so hard his head bounces back on the bed.
I'll show him.
***