6 - Prey

"Liar," Callum murmured. He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "You're a terrible liar, Leo. Your whole body screams it. Every time I get close, you stop breathing. You're in the closet so deep you've probably forgotten what sunlight looks like."

I pushed him away, my palms hitting his hard chest. "Get away from me."

Callum laughed and stepped back, his expression returning to one of smug victory. "See you at the pool sweetheart."

The walk to the aquatic center was freezing. A thin layer of frost covered the grass, and the air bit at my skin through my hoodie.

I walked in silence, my mind racing. I couldn't believe he had the nerve to bring up the kiss, to use my sexuality as a weapon against me. I had spent years building a wall around that part of myself, ensuring that no one knew the truth.

To have Callum rip it open within twenty four hours of his return was agonizing.

As I entered the lobby, I saw Sean Vance leaning against a trophy case. He was wearing a varsity jacket and chatting with a group of freshmen who looked like they were trying very hard to be liked by him.

When he spotted me, his grin widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. He waved me over with a mocking gesture.

"Hey, Librarian!" Sean shouted, loud enough for everyone in the lobby to turn and look. "Cal told me you were struggling with your morning routine. Do you need some help tying your laces? Or maybe a glass of warm milk before you dive in??"

The freshmen laughed, a few of them glancing at me with curiosity and a hint of pity. I ignored them and kept walking toward the locker rooms. I didn't have the energy for Sean's games. He was just a louder version of Callum, a sidekick who enjoyed the view from the top of the social hierarchy because he was too unremarkable to get there on his own.

"Don't be like that Leo!" Sean called out behind me. "We're just joking around. You really need to loosen up. You're so stiff it's almost impressive. I bet you sleep in a straight line."

I entered the locker room and found a quiet corner to change. I stripped off my clothes and pulled on my jammer, feeling the familiar tension in my muscles. I focused on my breathing, trying to clear my head. I needed this practice to be perfect. I needed to prove to myself that I was in control, that the water was my ally and not my enemy.

The pool area was humid and smelled strongly of chlorine, a scent that usually felt like home but today felt suffocating. The sound of splashing and shouting echoed off the high ceilings. I stepped onto the deck and saw Callum already in the water, finishing a set of explosive sprints. He moved through the water with a violent efficiency, his body cutting through the surface like a blade. He hit the wall with a powerful touch and surfaced, gasping for air, his chest heaving.

Our coach, a stern man named Miller who looked like he had been carved out of a piece of old oak, blew his whistle. Alright, listen up! Today we're focusing on endurance and recovery. Hayes, you're leading the distance set. Reid, you're on the sprint intervals. Let's move!

I dove into the water, the cold shock hitting my skin and waking up every nerve in my body. I settled into a steady rhythm, my strokes long and fluid.

I focused on the black line at the bottom of the pool, counting my breaths, feeling the water glide past my skin .

This was where I felt safe. In the distance sets, there was no room for panic, only the repetitive motion of survival and the steady beat of my heart.

As I turned at the wall, I saw Callum in the next lane. He was doing his sprints, his movements erratic and powerful compared to my steady pace. Every time he surfaced for air, his eyes found mine.

He wasn't looking at me with hatred... it was something something .....hungrier. He looked at me the way a predator looks at prey, analyzing every movement, every flaw in my form, waiting for me to slip.

I pushed harder, my lungs beginning to burn, but I refused to slow down. I wanted him to see that I wasn't the fragile boy he remembered. I wanted him to see that I had survived without him and that I didn't need his protection or his approval.

After two hours of grueling sets, coach Miller called it a day.

I climbed out of the pool, my muscles shaking from exhaustion. I grabbed my towel and headed back to the locker room, my mind already drifting toward the essay I had to finish for my Lit class.

The locker room was mostly empty by the time I got there. the silence was heavy, broken only by the drip of a leaky shower head.

I walked toward my locker, but as I reached for my bag, I realized someone was standing in my way.

Callum was leaning against the lockers, his damp hair clinging to his forehead.

He was wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist, his skin still glistening with droplets of water. He looked like a statue carved from marble, all hard lines and lean muscle.