Chapter 3 MIND YOUR BUSINESS

Vanessa's POV

"We should meet at the campus cafè by five let's grab something to eat. I’ll text you,” I call out to Josey as I leave the room, not waiting for her response.

By the time the lecture is over, I could swear I didn’t understand a single thing. I sat through the entire class trying to make sense of it.

As everyone steps out, stealing a glance at me, Mrs. Tina calls me to the front and introduces me to my tutor, Martins.

A special request was made to Dean Leo for a tutor since I can’t waive specific courses. Being a school’s star athlete doesn’t mean I get to escape school work, I still need my grades.

Why can’t swimming just give me all the benefits I need without more stress? I shake my head. I work hard, but I dare not complain.

“I guess we should be more casual now. I know you might not have noticed me, but we’ve been in the same classes all through freshman year,” Martins says, moving his hand forward for a handshake.

“Oh, hi Martins.” I shake his hand, with a small smile. “Well, I see you now. Hopefully, you can help me keep my grades up. I really need it.”

“I’ll do my best. Let’s fix a schedule during the weekends.”

“Sadly, I’m not free on weekends. I have practice. How about 4p.m. on Thursdays and Fridays?”

He pauses, looking at me, definitely thinking about it.

“Relax, it’s not a lifetime commitment,” I tease.

He laughs, showing off a cute dimple. “You’ve got jokes. Fine, deal.”

I leave for swim practice. I get there early, hoping to see Coach. I’m feeling slightly better now that I have someone who can help me before my grades become another problem for my scholarship and something mum can use against me.

“I don't know where you got that from.” I hear the familiar sound of Coach Benny’s voice as I approach his office.

I knock firmly before opening the door, and I instantly lock eyes with the guy from earlier. I feel like I might break a sweat.

Is he here to talk to Coach about my injury?

He’s wearing a casual brown shirt and shorts. His green eyes look brighter, and way too intense.

Honestly, he’s ridiculously handsome. But I would hit that fine face if he’s telling on me.

I walk in, acting like he doesn’t exist, and turn my attention to Coach Benny.

“Hey, Captain. Ready to kick it again? How was your summer?” Coach Benny asks, looking up from his desk.

I give him a thumbs down. “What do you think? You all should give me my life back.”

“This is your life, Vanessa. Where else would you be?”

“Oh, I forgot that for a minute,” I say sarcastically.

Coach chuckles. “Since you’re here, Cassie will be joining you to train for BUCS, just in case of anything,” he tells me, adjusting his clipboard. “And this is Seth Ellis. He’ll be assisting me as our sports medic for the semester.”

“Just great,” I mutter, already knowing this semester is going to be a lot more annoying than I thought, especially since he knows I’m hurt.

I give an awkward nod still not looking his way.

After few minutes of getting ready for practice in the locker room, Coach Benny calls us over.

Cassie shoots me a weird look before we dive into the pool alongside four of our other teammates. I don’t get why she hates me. Is it my fault that I’m good at what I do?

At least I acknowledge her effort, but she never returns the courtesy. I’m basically trapped dealing with a rival in what is supposed to be a team sport. It’s crazy.

The wall comes into view on the second lap. I've swum through this water so many times that I could tell the distance in my sleep.

Coach whistles. “Come on, Vanessa! Strong kick!”

“Faster, Cassie, push!”

I push harder, my body moving through the water with more powerful butterfly strokes. The pain intensifies, but I grit my teeth and keep going, staying focused, pushing with whatever strength I have left as I hit the wall hard.

I lift my head from the water, breathing heavily, my eyes fixed on the scoreboard.

“Very good, Vanessa. 25.8 seconds. You delayed by two seconds from your peak time. But well done. Cassie, 28.2 seconds.” Also good.

Cassie pulls herself out of the water, breathing hard, while I rest against the wall.

“Again,” Coach calls out.

We go through the drill repeatedly. By the third attempt, the pain in my shoulder is building, spreading through my arm, but I refuse to let a single reaction show.

Luckily, I make it through the section without Coach noticing anything, apart from me losing a crucial second on each turn. When he asks me if I’m doing fine, I lie as usual, saying yes.

I get out of the water, and I’m suddenly startled when a warm hand holds my cold, dripping body.

The contact sparks through me like a shock. I jerk away, nearly slipping on the tiles, and whip around to find Seth standing there, his tall physique towering over me.

I’m sure I was loud enough when I told him not to touch me again. I want to give him another piece of my mind, but I reach past him for my towel. I don’t want to cause a scene here.

He steps around, blocking my way, his face close to mine. I go rigid. He’s confident, definitely too confident.

“You’re making it more obvious, Nessa. I can tell,” he whispers.

“Who’s Nessa?” I snap. No one calls me that except my close friends, and I don’t see how he fits into that category.

I take a deep breath. “I don’t have time for this. Move,” I demand, waving him off with the hand that hurts.

He doesn’t budge. His green eyes remain fixed on mine, calm and unreadable.

“Since you’re pretending it doesn’t hurt, even after your reaction earlier, how about I report it? I’m the medic,” he says quietly. “You can defend yourself afterwards, since I’m wrong.”

I step back, breaking whatever tension is building between us. What is it with this freak?

“Should I beg on my knees?” I force a sweet smile, nibbling my lower lip as I turn and walk away.

“Don’t walk away from me.”

The way he says it is flat and low, which annoys me even more.

I walk down to the front of the cafè. After texting Josey, she replies that she’ll be there in five minutes. I rub my shoulder, thinking of how I can treat my arm without my coach or teammates noticing, especially with the media about to be all over me.

Next week is the press event to announce the BUCS couples challenge.

A familiar loud engine catches my attention, and a red Range Rover pulls up. It’s Caleb’s sports car, his family is stinky rich. They literally own a luxury private estate downtown.

Josey sees me and gets out of the car. Caleb leans over, honking at me, giving me a wide grin.

I step closer. “Ready to sprinkle all your trouble and noise on us now that you’re in final year, I presume?”

He raises his hands up defensively. “I’m a good boy now, right, Josey? And it’s my birthday this Friday. Don’t tell me you’re busy.”

I roll my eyes playfully. “We’ll see.”

“Oh, by the way, say hi to my best friend Seth.” Caleb points to the back seat.

I almost groan when my eyes land on the person sitting at the back. He is literally the last person I expect to see.

“You’ve got to be joking,” I mutter under my breath, looking at Seth’s blank and unbothered expression.

“I take it you guys have already met, then,” Caleb says, looking between our tense faces.

“No, we haven’t,” we both say together, like a perfectly practiced line.