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Drowning in You
Drowning in You
Auteur: Grace Kara

1 - The Golden Boy

Auteur: Grace Kara
last update Date de publication: 2026-07-30 19:50:26

LEO'S POV

"Do you think you could help me carry these to the second floor?"

I looked at the freshman. He was a skinny kid with oversized glasses and a stack of textbooks that looked ready to collapse. He looked terrified. His eyes darted around the crowded hallway.

"Of course," I said. I stepped forward and took the heaviest three volumes from the top of his pile. I felt the weight shift into my arms. "I'm Leo. Which room are you in?"

"Room 214 ," he stammered. He looked relieved. "I'm Toby. Thanks, man. I really didn't think I'd make it."

I walked with him. I chatted about the best places to get coffee on campus and which professors to avoid in the English department. By the time we reached his door, he was smiling. I gave him a small nod and headed back toward the stairs. Helping people didn't cost me anything. It made the day feel a bit lighter.

As I stepped into the main corridor, I noticed the atmosphere was off. Students were huddled in small groups, their voices low and urgent. A girl nearby was staring at her phone, her face pale.

"Did you see the latest alert?" she whispered to her friend. "The tide is coming in way too fast. They're saying the storm surge is unprecedented."

"It's just a winter storm," her friend replied, though she sounded unsure. "The coast guards always overreact."

I frowned. Outside the windows, the sky was a bruised purple. Rain slammed against the glass in heavy, rhythmic sheets. It wasn't just raining. The wind howled through the gaps in the window frames, creating a low, mourning sound that made the hair on my arms stand up.

I spotted Sushi near the dining hall as I made my way back. The calico stray was waiting for me. Her orange and black patches were stark against the gray concrete. I crouched down and offered her a piece of dried fish I'd saved. She rubbed her head against my palm. Her purring was a low vibration that settled the buzzing in my chest. I spent a few minutes scratching her behind the ears. I let the evening silence wrap around me.

I stood up and pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose with one finger. My senior year was supposed to be a quiet stretch of distance sets at the pool and long nights in the library. I liked my routine. I liked the way my life was organized, right down to the specific blue pen I used to log my training intervals. If I lost that pen, the whole day felt fractured.

As I reached the third floor, the hallway smelled of stale popcorn. I walked toward room 312, thinking about the essay I needed to finish. But as I approached the door, I stopped.

There was a new name taped to the wood.

CALLUM REID.

The air vanished from my lungs. I wasn't in a college hallway anymore. I was sixteen again. I felt the crushing weight of deep water pressing against my eardrums.

I felt the cold seep into my bones and the terrifying silence of the void. My chest locked. The flinch hit me with the force of a physical blow. I gasped, my hand clutching at the doorframe for support.

I stood there for a full minute. My heart hammered against my ribs.

Callum Reid. The boy who had been my first love. The boy who had stayed silent while I sank. The boy whose father had fired my mother to cover up the mess.

I hadn't seen him in years, but I knew him. Everyone knew the Reids.

They owned half the real estate in the city. Callum's face appeared in society columns and sports magazines. He was the golden boy of the sprint circuit, a prodigy with a lethal kick and a family fortune that bought him every advantage.

he was a ghost that haunted my every achievement, a name I tried to erase from my memory but found etched into my skin.

I forced myself to breathe. I counted to ten. I couldn't let a name break me. I reached for the handle, my fingers trembling, and pushed the door open.

The room was no longer mine. Expensive leather bags were tossed across the floor. The scent of a heavy, woody cologne filled the air. On the right side of the room, the bed was already made with high-thread-count sheets.

Callum was lounging on the bed. His large frame took up nearly the entire mattress.

He wore a black t shirt that clung to his chest and shoulders, showing off the powerful build of a sprint swimmer. His piercing blue eyes locked onto mine.

A slow, smug smirk spread across his face. He looked the same, only sharper. There was a small, jagged scar on his chin from a diving board accident when he was twelve. I hated that I remembered that..

Beside him stood Sean Vance. Sean was a broad-shouldered guy with a grin that never quite reached his eyes. He was a fellow athlete who had transferred here last year, and somehow becominfg Callum's shadow and primary enforcer in the social hierarchy of the swim team.

"Look at this," Callum said. His voice was a deep, smooth drawl. "You actually showed up. I was starting to think you'd vanished into the library archives, Hayes."

I didn't move. I stayed by the door. I folded my arms and made myself as small as possible. "What the hell are you doing here, Callum?"

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  • Drowning in You   60 - Actual Fruit

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  • Drowning in You   59 - Color

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  • Drowning in You   58 - Explaining a Math Problem

    I stepped over his legs and kept walking up the stairs. My heart was doing something fast and ugly in my chest, but my hands were steady. I pushed my glasses up my nose with one finger as I pushed through the door onto the roof. Callum was waiting at the top of the stairs. He had been leaning against the wall, and he straightened up when he saw me. The twitch in his cheek was gone. he looked tired. His blue eyes were doing that searching thing they did sometimes, when he thought I wasn't looking. "What did she want," he said. Not a question. "Who." "Don't." I pushed past him. He followed. We ended up at the far corner of the roof, near the vent stacks, where the wind made it hard for anyone to overhear. He didn't touch me. He kept a careful foot of space between us. That restraint from him, from Callum of all people, felt louder than anything he could have shouted. "She wanted to check on me," I said. "That was the official version." "And the real one." "She told me to ask y

  • Drowning in You   57 - Rough Night

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