BETWEEN US AND THE PAST

CHAPTER 8-POOL

The next morning, I convinced myself I was going to have a normal day.

No weird conversations.

No mysterious warnings.

No Mason climbing through windows.

Just school.

Simple.

Unfortunately, the universe clearly had other plans.

The moment Lori and I entered the Arts and Media building, I already felt suspicious.

“You look nervous,” Lori said.

“I’m not nervous.”

“You look like you’re expecting something.”

“I am.”

“What?”

“Trouble.”

Lori laughed.

“Fair.”

We entered the classroom a few minutes before class started.

Students were already settling into their seats, chatting and scrolling through their phones.

For one glorious second, everything looked normal.

Then—

“Morning, Evelyn.”

I stopped.

Frost Dawson.

Of course.

He was standing beside our row with that calm expression that somehow made everything feel intentional.

“Morning,” I replied cautiously.

His eyes dropped to my shoulder.

Specifically—

my bag.

Uh-oh.

Before I could react, Frost casually slipped the strap from my shoulder.

Again.

My jaw dropped.

“Frost.”

“Hm?”

“That’s my bag.”

“I know.”

He started walking toward a seat near the middle row.

With my bag.

Again.

I stared in disbelief.

“Did he seriously just do that?” I asked.

“He seriously just did that,” Lori confirmed.

The worst part?

Nobody else seemed concerned.

As if bag theft had become a normal form of greeting.

Frost reached the row and placed my bag on the chair beside him.

Then he sat down.

Calmly.

Like the seat had already been reserved.

I crossed my arms.

“You know, most people ask.”

He looked up.

“I already know the answer.”

“What answer?”

A faint smile appeared.

“That you’ll sit here.”

The confidence was honestly ridiculous.

Before I could respond—

Another voice interrupted.

“I don’t think so.”

The entire row seemed to go quiet.

I didn’t even have to turn around.

I recognized that voice immediately.

Mason.

Standing a few feet away.

His expression was calm.

Too calm.

The dangerous kind of calm.

Frost leaned back slightly in his chair.

“And why not?”

Mason stepped forward.

Because apparently personal space no longer existed.

“Because she can choose her own seat.”

Silence.

A few nearby students had definitely stopped pretending not to listen.

I looked between them.

Then at Lori.

She was practically enjoying herself.

Traitor.

Frost’s gaze shifted toward me.

“Then choose.”

I blinked.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

The room suddenly felt very warm.

Mason was watching.

Frost was watching.

And somehow I had become the center of a situation I never asked for.

I pointed at myself.

“Why am I involved in this?”

Neither of them answered.

Fantastic.

I sighed dramatically.

Then marched forward, grabbed my bag from Frost’s desk, and pulled it against my chest.

“Problem solved.”

Frost raised an eyebrow.

Mason looked mildly satisfied.

I immediately walked to an empty seat two rows away.

Far.

Far away from both of them.

Then sat down.

Hard.

Lori joined me a few seconds later.

“That was amazing.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

She grinned.

“Two guys are literally fighting over who gets to sit beside you.”

I dropped my head onto the desk.

“I hate college.”

“You love college.”

“I really don’t.”

“You absolutely do.”

Maybe she was right.

But I wasn’t admitting that.

Not now.

Not while Frost and Mason were still glaring at each other from opposite sides of the classroom.

Lori somehow convinced me to stay after class and watch the swimming team tryouts.

I wasn’t sure why.

Neither of us was trying out.

Neither of us was even part of the swim team.

But now we were sitting in the bleachers of the aquatic center while students gathered around the pool.

The place was crowded.

Athletes stretched near the lanes while coaches checked clipboards and organized participants.

The sound of splashing water echoed throughout the building, mixing with conversations and excited cheering from the audience.

I rested my chin on my hand, only half paying attention.

Until I noticed a familiar face.

Then another.

My eyes widened slightly.

No way.

Among the students trying out for the team were Mason and Frost.

Both wore the same university swim gear as everyone else, but somehow they still stood out.

Maybe because I recognized them immediately.

Or maybe because they carried themselves differently.

Mason stood with his hands in his pockets, listening to the coach while waiting for instructions.

He looked relaxed, but there was always something focused about him.

Even when he wasn’t moving, he seemed aware of everything happening around him.

A few lanes away stood Frost.

Tall, calm, and completely unreadable as usual.

While other students chatted nervously before the tryout, Frost looked perfectly composed.

As if nothing could make him anxious.

I frowned slightly.

It was strange seeing them outside the classroom.

Stranger still to see them together.

It wasn’t like he was doing anything interesting.

He was just... there.

And somehow my attention kept finding him.

A dangerous mistake.

Because Lori noticed everything.

The moment she caught me looking in the same direction for what was probably the fifth time, I felt her staring at me from beside my seat.

I already knew that look.

The teasing look.

The one that always meant trouble.

I immediately looked anywhere else.

The ceiling.

The pool.

The scoreboard.

Literally anything.

Unfortunately, that only seemed to confirm whatever theory she had already built inside her head.

I could practically feel her amusement growing beside me.

And the more she looked at me, the more self-conscious I became.

Which only made everything worse.

Because now I was aware of where my eyes were going.

Aware of how often I noticed Mason.

Aware of every stupid little detail.

I hated it.

The entire situation felt ridiculous.

I barely knew him.

A few days ago, he had been a stranger.

Now, somehow, he was my neighbor, my classmate, the owner of an embarrassing video that could ruin what was left of my dignity, and apparently the person my eyes kept searching for in a crowded room.

None of that made sense.

I rested my chin on my hand and stared at the pool, determined to focus on literally anything else.

Then I made the mistake of glancing at Mason again.

At that exact moment, he looked up.

My stomach dropped.

Not because nothing happened.

Because something did.

One by one, swimmers stepped onto the starting blocks.

Mason adjusted his goggles.

Frost rolled his shoulders once before looking toward the water.

Then the whistle sounded again.

They dove.

The crowd erupted almost immediately.

Water splashed across the lanes as competitors raced toward the opposite end of the pool.

I found myself watching more carefully now.

Not because I understood swimming.

Because I didn’t.

But because it was obvious they were both doing well.

Mason’s movements looked precise and controlled.

Frost’s looked smooth and effortless.

Different styles.

Same result.

Both quickly moved ahead of most of the swimmers around them.

Students nearby started whispering.

Some were pointing toward the lanes.

Others were already guessing who would make the team.

I glanced between Mason and Frost.

Neither seemed focused on anyone else.

Not the crowd.

Not the attention.

Just the tryout.

For the first time since meeting them, they looked less like two complicated people tangled in some mystery and more like regular college students trying to earn a place on a team.

The thought almost made me smile.

Almost.

Then the race ended.

Both climbed out of the pool while coaches wrote notes on their clipboards.

And somehow, despite the dozens of students participating—

my eyes still found those two first.

I tried to focus on the tryouts.

I really did.

The coaches were reviewing times, students were moving between lanes, and the entire aquatic center buzzed with excitement.

It should have been easy to pay attention to what was actually happening.

Instead, my eyes kept drifting.

Specifically to Mason.

Not intentionally.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

Every time I looked away, I somehow found myself looking back again.

He was standing near the pool, listening to one of the coaches and occasionally running a hand through his damp hair while waiting for the next instruction.

It wasn’t like he was doing anything interesting

The tryouts ended later that afternoon.

By the time Lori dropped me off at home, the sun was already beginning to set, painting the neighborhood in warm shades of orange and gold.

I stepped inside the house, greeted by Nugget’s usual excitement, but my mind was somewhere else.

Swimming.

More specifically—

Mason.

I sighed and dropped my bag beside my bed before flopping onto the mattress.

This was ridiculous.

I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him.

Yet somehow, my brain kept replaying the tryouts.

The way he moved through the water.

The focus in his expression.

The confidence he carried without showing off.

I had expected him to be decent.

Not... that good.

Every lap looked effortless.

Like swimming was second nature to him.

I rolled onto my side and buried my face in a pillow.

“Why am I even thinking about this?” I muttered.

Nugget jumped onto the bed and settled beside me.

Helpful as always.

I stared at the ceiling.

Maybe Lori was getting into my head.

Maybe that was the problem.

Because now every little thing seemed suspicious.

Every glance.

Every conversation.

Every moment.

And it was annoying.

My phone suddenly buzzed on the nightstand.

I grabbed it without thinking.

Lori.

Of course.

A text message appeared.

Lori: Sooooo...

I immediately frowned.

That amount of vowels never meant anything good.

A second message appeared.

Lori: Did you enjoy watching Mason swim? 👀

I groaned and dropped my head back onto the mattress.

There it was.

The teasing had officially followed me home.

Another notification appeared before I could even reply.

Lori: Because from where I was sitting, you looked VERY invested.

My eyes widened.

Me: I was watching the tryouts.

Almost instantly—

Lori: Specifically Mason.

I covered my face with a pillow.

This was a nightmare.

The phone buzzed again.

Lori: It’s okay, Ey-vee.

another buzzed

Lori: We all saw it.

Me: Saw WHAT?

Three dots appeared.

Then—

Lori: The way your eyes kept following him around the pool 😂

I sat up immediately.

Me: You’re making things up.

Lori: Sure.

Lori: And I’m sure you were also thinking about him the entire ride home.

I froze.

Because unfortunately...

I had been.

I stared at the screen for several seconds before typing.

Me: You’re impossible.

A few moments later, her final message arrived.

Lori: Maybe.

Lori: But if Mason asks you out one day, remember I called it first 😉.

I immediately threw my phone onto the bed.

“Nope.”

Nugget lifted his head.

“Nope,” I repeated.

But as I lay back down and stared at the ceiling again, one annoying thought refused to leave.

What if Lori wasn’t completely wrong?

And somehow—

that possibility was far more terrifying than I wanted to admit.