My Favorite Distraction

EPISODE FIVE

My heart hammered wildly against my ribs as I glared up at him.

Xavier stood over me, completely dressed in his athletic outfit, looking down at me with the same unnervingly calm expression—as if scaring the life out of me was part of his morning routine.

I stared at him, breathing hard. "What are you doing?"

He slowly lifted his wrist, glanced at the silver face of his watch, then looked back at me.

"Twenty minutes," he said flatly. "Get changed and meet me at the Triton Aquatic Arena. Do not be late."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving the door standing wide open behind him.

I rubbed both hands over my face and let out a long breath.

There was absolutely no way I was spending another night in this room with that psychopath again.

I quickly changed out of my sleep clothes, pulled on the stiff school uniform, and marched straight out of the dormitory toward the administrative block.

If anyone could fix this nightmare, it was President Vance.

Hopefully.

President Vance sat behind a massive desk, his sharp gray eyes sizing me up as I stood in front of him.

"Mr. Mercer," he said, his voice deep and formal. "What can I do for you?"

"Sir," I began, clenching my fists at my sides. "I need a room change, immediately."

Vance raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his leather chair. "A room change?"

"Yes, sir," I said, standing as straight as I could, trying to sound as serious as possible. "Anywhere else would be just fine."

Vance leaned back in his leather chair and studied me for several seconds.

"The semester has barely begun. Dorm assignments are final unless there is a severe issue."

He leaned forward, resting one elbow on the desk. "So tell me, Mr. Mercer, why do you want to change rooms?"

I opened my mouth. It wiggled, but not a single sound was heard.

The words because my roommate is unhinged, he invaded my space and kissed me sat heavily on my tongue, and I couldn't say it.

How could I explain the humiliating reality of what Xavier had done without sounding pathetic, or worse, having it turned back against me?

My jaw worked, but still, not a single sound came out.

Vance watched me closely, waiting. When I just stood there, sweating under his gaze, his expression tightened into quiet disappointment.

"If you have no concrete reason to provide, Alex, then this conversation is over."

He picked up a pen, dismissing me entirely.

I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat, turned around, and walked out of the office with a heavy, sinking defeat in my chest.

The moment the door closed behind me, I let out a frustrated breath.

Apparently, I was stuck with Xavier for the rest of the semester.

Or maybe even longer.

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"Does this mean I'm going to be living with a guy who seems to have absolutely no concept of personal boundaries for the rest of my time here?"

I groaned.

This school was getting worse by the minute.

The massive glass doors of the Triton Aquatic Arena stood propped open. The moment I stepped inside, the sharp smell of chlorine hit my nose.

The Olympic-sized pool stretched across the enormous facility, its deep blue surface glittering beneath the overhead lights.

A man stood at the edge of the pool with a clipboard tucked beneath one arm and a stopwatch already ticking in his hand.

Coach, I guessed.

I had barely taken three steps onto the pool deck when his head snapped toward me.

"You're late, Alex!" His voice echoed across the tiled walls.

I stopped dead.

Every swimmer in the pool turned to look at me.

Coach Adams marched toward me, his face flushed with irritation. He aggressively clicked his stopwatch and held it up between us.

"This is an elite sports academy, not a public recreation center."

I swallowed.

"On your very first day, you decide to stroll in after the whistle?"

He stepped closer. "In this pool, seconds separate champions from nobodies. If you ever disrespect my time again, you'll spend your mornings scrubbing the scum off these tiles instead of swimming in them."

He lowered the stopwatch. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Coach," I muttered, my face burning with a mixture of embarrassment.

I wasn't even sure what else I was supposed to say. I'd been at this school for just a day, and somehow, I already hated it even more.

Coach Adams gave a short grunt. "Good."

He turned toward the rest of the team. "The rest of you, line up for the five-hundred-meter freestyle warm-up. Get moving!"

The swimmers immediately began diving into the water, their bodies cutting through the surface with loud splashes.

Coach Adams turned back to me. His eyes shifted toward someone standing near the starting blocks.

My stomach instantly dropped into a cold knot.

It was Xavier.

He was wearing the team speedos and a black swim cap, his expression completely blank as before.

Coach Adams gestured toward him.

"Since you missed the technical briefing, Xavier will train you for the time being," Coach Adams ordered, jotting something down on his clipboard.

Panic surged through me.

Xavier again?

He's going to be my trainer?

I shook my head slightly.

Absolutely not.

There was no way in hell I was letting Xavier get anywhere near me in the water, let alone dictate my training.

"Wait, Coach, please!" I protested quickly, stepping forward to block his path.

Adams stopped.

"I can't—I mean..." I scrambled for an excuse. "I'd really prefer someone else."

His eyebrows pulled together. "Someone else?"

"Yes," I answered almost immediately.

"Do you have someone already?"

"Umm..." The lie slipped out before I could stop it. "Yes."

I quickly scanned the pool deck, desperately searching for anyone whose name I knew, and then I saw him.

Callum.

He stood several meters away, already preparing for his own drills.

"Yes... definitely, Callum," I said, pointing at him. Thankfully, I still remembered his name even though I had heard it just once.

Coach Adams followed my finger.

"Can Callum train me instead?" I asked.

The moment Callum's name left my mouth, Xavier, who was just standing a few steps from me, froze at once.

His eyes shot toward me, his face replaced by that flat expression instantly.

His jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles in his cheek twitched, and his dark eyes flashed with a sudden, dangerous fury.

"Callum is busy with his own drills," Xavier said, his voice dropping into a rough tone that made the coach pause. "I can train him."

He stepped closer to me, his chest heaving slightly.

"Coach assigned me to you, Alex. I will train you."

I folded my arms. "No, I don't want to be trained by you. I want Callum," I protested.

The words were barely out of my mouth before his expression turned colder.

"You will do exactly as I say, Alex," Xavier said.

I stared at him. "And if I don't?"

His eyes narrowed.

Before either of us could say another word, a calm, tired voice came from behind us.

"Actually, Coach, I can take him."