Mark heads down to the pool alone. Thad hasn’t come back out of his room since he slammed the door shut behind Mark, and who knows where Jamie might be. Not in the lounge—Mark checked—and not at the pool, either. In fact, whoever started that rumor about the rifle girls skinny dipping lied, because Mark has the whole pool to himself.
He dives into the deep end—no belly flop this time, no one around to piss off or try to impress. With long strokes, he pulls himself effortlessly through the water. He likes to swim, but didn’t make the college’s team his freshman year and switched his focus to band, instead. Fewer sexy guys in Speedos in the music department, to be sure, but enough hotties to go around, just the same.
As he swims, he lets his mind drift where it will. Stupid s**t, mostly, l
