After the Fear (Young Adult Dystopian) (23 page)

Dylan hits the opposite edge, turns, and begins to swim back. I desperately try to steady my breathing, waiting for that inevitable moment. Why on earth didn’t I look in a mirror before coming here? I run my hands over the frizz which is my hair.

Just then, Dylan stops, the water rushing past him from the rhythm he had built up. He sees me. His head bobs on the water about half way down the lane.

My stomach flips as though my whole body is waking up.

After a long second, he swims to the side of the pool. Water cascades from him as he hoists himself onto the edge.

What was I going to say to him again? Speech abandons me. All I do is watch the man I fantasise about every waking moment grab his towel from the hook and walk over, drying his neck in an obvious attempt not to look ahead.

I close my mouth, still staring at his face, his arms, his firm torso. Hopefully my smile will hide my nerves.

‘It’s freezing in there!’ I half laugh/half breathe out.

He pauses about a metre away from where I’m sitting and looks out onto the rippling water.

‘I’m not training today.’ His voice is as cold as the water.

‘I know. I just . . . came to see you,’ I say quietly.

‘Did you enjoy your time away?’ he asks, his tone flat.

‘Yeah, my favourite part was nearly being killed by some crazily strong she-wolf,’ I reply, seeking his eyes with mine. He nods ever so slightly.

‘Yeah, she looked tough.’

‘Not as tough as meee.’ I make my voice go playfully high, teasing him out of his dark mood. He finally looks at me, the edge of his mouth itching into a smile.

‘You were lucky.’

Standing now, I close a foot between us.

‘You’re the lucky one,’ I say, keeping his intense gaze.

‘Why?’ he asks, and I step even closer, my jumper nearly touching his damp skin.

‘Because you know how to swim,’ I whisper, allowing a millisecond for what I’m saying to sink in. Then I push.

Maybe it’s the high of finally seeing Dylan after the night I’ve had, perhaps it’s the thrill of knowing I could have died so many times yesterday, or maybe I really am going insane. But right now it’s as if anything’s possible; it’s like I’m a kid again, back when pushing someone in a pool was honestly the most hilarious thing in the world. I’m laughing when Dylan resurfaces, shaking the water from his face like a dog. He works to keep himself afloat.

‘You’re such a rookie, Sola,’ he shouts.

I lean down. ‘Oh yeah, why’s that?’

He reclines in the water so he’s facing the high ceiling. The room echoes his words, making them sound quiet and loud all at once.

‘Because now I’m wet, it can’t get any worse. You, however . . .’

I take a step back from the edge. He doesn’t look, but it’s as though he senses my movement.

‘Aye, don’t worry, I won’t do anything yet. Nah, I’ll let you sweat. Because that’s what happens when you have everything to lose.’ Why does that sound so flirty in his accent? I giggle, finding what he’s saying—how I’m feeling—ridiculous. Then, while he’s still facing upwards, I whip my jumper and T-shirt over my head, unzip my trousers with nervous hands and chuck them down next to me. My breathing comes fast, like I’m having some kind of psychotic episode. Maybe I am.

I don’t stand long enough on that edge for him to see me.

‘I’m not afraid of losing!’ I yell as I jump.

The cold greets every part of me, around my ribs and under my arms, gripping my throat. My hair separates underwater, flaying around like seaweed trying to ensnare my face. Shock travels up my body as I lurch upwards. Soon, I break free of the surface, gulping back breaths.

Through the liquid whooshing in my ears, I hear something whole and real bouncing across to me. It’s Dylan. He’s laughing. Really, really roaring. There are splashes and coughing and what I think is the start of my name then more chuckles. It fills me with happiness, knowing I’ve made the most serious person I know laugh, knowing our amusement connects us.

With a few strokes, Dylan has swam beside me, all traces of his earlier annoyance gone. His eyes are wicked, full of mischief. He regards me side-on, a brilliant grin on his face. I guess now, neither of us have anything to lose.

Then, the most amazing thing happens.

We play.

It’s stupid, twenty- and seventeen-year-old killers mucking around in a freezing cold pool, but that’s what we do. At first I keep to the water, too aware of my now transparent underwear. Then, after rounds of who can hold their breath for longest (it’s him) and who can reach the other side fastest (mainly me), Dylan pulls himself out before taking a run up and dive-bombing in the deep end. Without really thinking, or caring, I follow suit and as I jump, I yell out the rudest word I know.

Dylan’s cackling as I swim up.

‘You kiss your mother with that mouth?’ He laughs, before taking a sharp breath in. ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t think—’

‘It’s okay,’ I say, splashing water in his face. And it really is. It’s okay how inappropriate he is, how embarrassed, how we both know he’s put his foot in it. For some reason, Mum dying doesn’t feel like a secret I should carry alone when I’m with him. It’s not good, or cool, it’s just okay.

‘Anyway, I know a worse one.’ He grins again and gets out. When he jumps he shouts a word I’ve never even heard before, but it sounds disgusting. When I ask him what it means, he says he would never tell a lady, so he can tell me. Obviously, I splash him a bit more.

We head to the shallower end, and he asks me to climb on his back. I do so, fending away the claws of self-consciousness. Our skin is slick against one another. He tucks his strong arms underneath my legs before launching himself upwards. He jumps, leans back and lets go. I fall through the air, screaming until I plunge back into the cold water.

With that splash, it’s as though the past two months never happened. I sink, letting my legs, arms, and hair rise. Tiny bubbles jet around me as if I had jumped into a giant glass of lemonade; I peer through the fuzzy, stinging water. I wonder if this is what it is like to die. Then my body lifts up, pulled to the surface by the millions of living particles which make up me. I gasp and flick my hair away from my face.

This isn’t dying. It’s living.

I turn to Dylan, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

‘Your turn.’

LATER, WE HEAD TO THE REFECTORY TOGETHER. I had to change back into my clothes minus underwear and, although I did it far from Dylan, sharing the secret makes me feel cheeky, as if we’ve done something wrong and no one can know. I definitely have one up on the Herd officer who watches us as we make our way across the field.

The air is even colder than the pool and the camp already looks grey, like night is lying in wait, invading the sun’s time.

While it’s still just us two, I take a deep breath in and try to keep my voice casual.

‘You know, that time I left Shepherd Fines’ office in the morning. I’d fallen asleep there. I’m beginning to think I was drugged or something.’ I can’t let him think something happened for a minute longer. For some reason, I giggle, although it’s not funny at all. Dylan looks at the ground.

‘Did, did he hurt you?’ he asks quietly, but I see his body tense. I shake my head. Dylan lets out a long breath.

‘Then it’s a good thing,’ he replies. ‘Not if you were drugged, aye.’ He forces a breathy chuckle too, and it seems hollow compared to our real laughing in the pool. ‘But that Shepherd Fines likes you. You should keep it that way.’

My ‘oh’ comes out disappointed. What did I expect? That he would be consumed with jealousy?

‘I’m not going to keep it that way, but I get what you mean,’ I say, although really I have no idea what he’s trying to tell me.

His eyebrows furrow. ‘Shepherd Fines can keep you alive if he wants to. As long as he thinks he has a chance with you, you’ll get an easy twist in your last game. You have thought this through, haven’t you?

‘I get that . . . but I’m not going to pretend I’m interested in someone who I’m not.’ I guiltily think back to the time I implied that Alixis and I were talking about Shepherd Fines in order to keep the sheet wrapped around the trigger camera.

‘So you’re not interested in him?’

‘No,’ I say, although my voice cracks. There’s a pause as I stare at my pumps.

‘Don’t throw an opportunity like this away, Sola. Everyone has to do what they can to stay alive.’

Am I imagining things, or does his voice have that cold edge back?

‘Shepherd Fines is not an opportunity. He’s a person,’ I say, although again, I’m not thinking that at all. I’m thinking, who the hell are you to tell me what to do? What exactly
are
you asking me to do? Jump into bed with the Shepherd because he can help me live? Then I’m not thinking at all. I’m getting hot and angry. I’m wondering what it is that makes everyone think they can make decisions for me.

‘Why do you refuse to save yourself? Don’t you know how lucky you’ve been?’ he asks.

I think back to our argument that night in the Medic’s Cabin. So long ago, yet the same points are being hammered home again and again. Dylan wants me to do everything
his
way, and if I don’t, I’m an idiotic little girl who doesn’t know how plush she’s got it.

‘I’ve done fine so far. I can look after myself.’

I’m worried if I say full sentences, I’ll never stop. I’ll tear into him about how much I hate but love him and blame him but owe him. How much I don’t want his advice but need his friendship.

‘No! I got you here, Sola.’ His eyes blaze into mine. ‘It’s my fault you’re here. If you die, I’ll have to live with it.’ He jabs a finger into his chest. ‘So listen to me and stay alive.’

I stare, open-mouthed. Fury vibrates in my chest, infecting my whole body and mind. I clench my teeth and ball my fists.
This
is why he cares about me. Guilt.
This
is why he’s nice to me. I see it all so clearly. Where my invented love affair once stood now lives the clear picture of yet another person trying to use me for their own good.

‘Stay away from me,’ I hiss.

‘What?’

‘Stay. Away.’ I meet his eyes. He’s surprised, I can see it. I wonder if I’m really radiating all the hatred and rage that surges through me. I sense him go to speak, to reach out, but I turn and stalk away. I’m too angry to run. I need to walk with control, sending my wrath down into the tarmac and through the earth with each footstep.

Dylan either doesn’t care or actually listens to my request because he doesn’t follow.

Lucky me
.

I DODGE TRAINING THE FOLLOWING DAY. My next Demonstration is in two days’ time at Victor, Dylan’s home city. That means I have all of tomorrow to train properly.

I bid Alixis goodbye before we reach the edge of the field, making an excuse about wanting to work on my strength in the gym. Dylan will probably tell her that we’ve had another argument, but I don’t want to get into it right now. I’m still getting to grips with having been Dylan’s charity case since I arrived here.

Once I reach the path leading to the gym, I glance back. Coral now walks beside Alixis, as if she had been lying in wait for me to leave. My fists clench automatically, defences tingling for my best friend. But the two girls look happy enough. When Coral jogs away to Gideon, Alixis even flicks her hand to say ‘bye’.

My teeth clamp together. I scan into the gym slowly, reminding myself I have no right to be jealous. I can’t dictate who Alixis chooses as a friend. Yet that doesn’t stop a bad mood taking over. I grab the heaviest weights from the walk-in cupboard, before yelling out as I try to bring them over my head. They throw my balance, pulling me backwards. To stop my arms from breaking I embrace the fall, cracking my coccyx and the back of my head on the ground. My arms judder with the force of the weights as they, too, smack onto the floor.

‘Ow,’ I say to myself. Suddenly, my eyes are stinging. I’m lying on the floor of the cupboard, crying because my head hurts. Just like a kid. I
seriously
need a break.

‘Sola,’ a tender voice calls. I swivel my head to see Dao reach me. He crouches down and gently rolls the weights away from my hands.