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Chapter One
Sage
I smack the hand tapping my cheek away, groaning as I pull the blanket over my head and roll towards the wall.
“Sage?” Her little voice has me blinking awake, and I turn back to her.
My sister smiles as I squint, mentally cursing the light flooding through the window.
“What, Val?”
She holds up my phone. “This keeps going off.”
The time reads after six a.m. on the screen, my alarm still faintly ringing. I shoot up from the bed, adrenaline coursing through me as I snatch it from her hand. “Fuck!”
“That’s a bad word.”
I nod, grabbing my swim suit and stuffing it in my bag while trying to put on my shoes at the same time. “Yeah, so don’t repeat it. Okay, Squirt?”
Flinging the strap over my shoulder, I pocket my keys, but stop at the door. I glance back at Val sitting on her bed, her small feet swinging. “You good? Need me to cook breakfast?”
She shakes her head, her tangled blonde hair barely moving as she gives me a crooked grin with a missing tooth. “Nope. I have Pop-Tarts.”
I’m still reluctant to leave her. “Mom here?”
Valerie shrugs. “I think so. Her door is closed.”
My tongue pokes at the inside of my cheek, hesitating. I’m already cutting it close to the start of practice. Would it really matter if I missed it entirely? The first day of practice is usually more of a chill day to get to know one another.
My sister’s eyes narrow, about to argue how much of a big girl she is now that she’s in the first grade. I hold up my hand, knowing I’ve lost the battle before it could begin.
“Fine. Text me if Mom doesn’t wake up before the bus comes, okay?” I say with a sigh.
“I promise, Sage.” Her little hand holds up her pinky finger and I mirror the action with a wink before hurrying out the door. I gather the unbrushed brown hair swaying over my shoulder as much as I can into a ponytail before I climb into my car and head to school.
I’m incredibly fortunate that school is less than a twenty-minute drive. I timed it before we moved here this summer. Val’s bus stop for school is also less than a five-minute walk from our apartment. The familiar twist of guilt boils in my stomach when I think about how much higher the rent is from the old place, but my mom insisted we were moving because she got a better job and not because it’s close to the college I received an athletic scholarship from. I had planned to stay in the dorms, but aftershe spent an entire summer paying for Val’s babysitters so I could attend a skills camp, I knew we couldn’t afford it. It was fairly obvious my mom was hurting for money and it didn’t cost a dime to watch my little sister in the afternoons.
Pulling into the parking lot, I jog to the locker room and quickly change into my swimsuit. I throw my sweatshirt and shorts over it in case Coach Amber is having us do dryland instead. I met her at the orientation and she seemed like a nice enough person.
As I walk around the building, I smile when I hear the splashing of the water and the stench of chlorine. It’s like coming home. The screech of the gate to the pool deck has me grimacing as I open it, announcing my entrance.
My attention is immediately drawn to the man standing next to Coach Amber; my gaze clashes with green, and my breath catches. It’s soul-piercing, life-altering, the way my body ripples with shivers as the familiarity of those eyes tears through me. I have posters with those eyes plastered on the walls of my bedroom. I’ve watched hours of videos of that gorgeous peridot color giving interviews. He breaks our connected stare, and I hurry to where Emily is standing, huddled with the other girls. Her blonde hair is thrown up into a messy ponytail, and her blue eyes are bright with astonishment.
My fingers latch onto hers. “Is that–”
“Yes,” she whispers, squeezing my hands. “I tried calling you.”
Fallon Harris is one of the biggest names in US Water Polo, a four-time Olympian on the men’s team before he had surgery on his shoulder that made him retire from competing. He’s had the dream career of anyone who loves their sport, joining the national team at sixteen. He was also the epitome of my biggest crush, the unreachable athlete who was like a celebrity in our small sports world. And he is standing a few feet in front of me on our small college pool deck.
“As I was saying,” Coach Amber spares me a glance with a raised eyebrow. “We’re going to be running split practices. Majority of the girls are with me and the rest with Coach Harris. He’s reviewed last season’s stats and your high school careers if you’re a freshman. He can rotate those girls at any given time as we hone the skills of each individual.”
Emily nudges me, her hand nearly crushing mine as she bounces on the heels of her feet. I know what she’s saying. I’m going to be spending a lot of time with him. I straighten my shoulders, trying to keep my gaze from straying to him.
He’s just my coach.
He’s just my coach.
He’s just my coach.
