After about two hours, Natalie leaps to her feet and screams. “Oh my God!” she says, looking at Juliet. “He’s there! He’s there!”
She points down at the pool. A line of eerily similar-looking guys walk out to the pool. Trevor is third from the right, and he’s wearing a silver warm-up suit. He unzips the jacket, then takes it off and puts it in his bag.
I count the competitors. There are eight of them. Trevor is jumping up and down, his arms slack against his body.
“This is it,” whispers Natalie. “Everything has led to this.”
A horn blares, and the boys step onto the blocks. Trev crouches.
3.
2.
1.
The horn blares again. Trevor dives forward, his arms out in front of him, his body stretched out.
“That was a good dive,” says Juliet.
“Swim, you beautiful boy!” screams Natalie.
I scream with them. In the pool, it seems like everyone is level. The crowd screams and cheers. I cup my hands to my mouth and shout Trevor’s name. The wall is coming up. Go, Trev, go! They all touch the wall. I turn to the screen to see Trevor lift his head up out of the water.
The camera is focusing on him.
“He won!” screams Natalie. “Oh my God, he broke twenty-three!”
I look at his time, which is being displayed in big white numbers on the screen: 22.89.
She tilts her head down and smiles. “My boy did it.”
We clap and cheer along with everyone else as the competitors climb out of the pool. Trevor looks up at the crowd, his dark eyes flitting from left to right. We wave, but his eyes move right by us. He obviously can’t make us out from all the faces in the crowd, but he keeps scanning, looking for us, which makes me grin.
A woman in a tight jacket and an even tighter skirt waddles up to Trevor. She waves a black microphone in front of her face as a cameraman crouches in front of them. “Congratulations,” she says. “Do you realize what just happened?”
The pair of them are on the screen, with Trevor as the focal point. On screen, he somehow looks different. His eyes are clearer and his muscles are more pronounced. His massive chest is covered in droplets of water. He looks like a bona fide superstar.
He runs his fingers through his hair, shaking off the water. “No, not really.”
The reporter clamps her hand down on his shoulder. Her fingernails dig into his muscle. Trev smiles a wide, slightly goofy smile.
“You, young man, just scored a time six-tenths of a second under the previous trials’ cutoff. So I think it’s safe to say that you, Trevor Flagg, are going to compete in the Olympic trials!”
Trev’s smile grows wider, and his eyes light up. “Wow, I mean, I can’t even … Wow. That’s huge. I did it? Oh wow, I actually did it!”
The reporter turns away. “And that, viewers, is the face of an extraordinary young man’s dreams coming true. Remember the name Trevor Flagg: he will be a champion soon!”
A dangerous feeling fills me. If Trev can achieve his biggest, craziest dream, what’s stopping me from doing the same? Why can’t I find a way to stay alive and make sure they don’t kill Dyl? I grit my teeth. These thoughts are pointless and make me hate myself for thinking them. I’m not Trevor. He’s free, and I’m a Love Interest. We aren’t the same. Only a moron would compare us.
“He’s done it,” says Natalie. “He’s done it.”
For some reason, her smile fades. Her teeth sink into her lips and she can’t seem to stop staring at Trevor. I go to ask her what’s wrong, but she catches me looking and shakes it off, the smile returning to her face.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
My phone vibrates, making a sound like an angry wasp. I reach out and grab it from under my pillow. It’s a text from Juliet.
Panic stations. I repeat, panic stations. Come to the park in front of the library. We’re here.
I go to type a response and my phone vibrates again.
Actually, no. Go to Trev’s place. Try to talk some sense into him.
I swing my legs over the side of my bed and sit up. I call her.
It rings twice, then she picks up. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Caden. What’s up?”
“Trev broke up with Natalie. She keeps saying she’s going to kill herself, and I don’t think she’s being dramatic. Actually, I need to get back to her, to make sure she doesn’t do something dumb. Talk to Trev. Fix this.”
My mouth drops open. “Ummm, oh, okay. I’ll do it. Text me his address.”
I pull on the closest clothes, a pair of black jeans and a red hoodie, then run out of the house to my truck. The idea of driving makes my hands shake, but I don’t have a choice. Using the GPS app on my phone for directions, I drive toward Trevor’s place. As I drive, I think about my approach to this situation. How do I stay in character when Trevor is doing something that’s so out of his? I can tell being a Nice in front of him is going to be almost impossible. I just don’t have it in me to do anything other than be brutally honest with a friend who is making a dense, life-ruining decision.
Once I reach the house I park and run up to the front door. It’s a small, squat building. The cream-colored walls are faded. I knock on the screen door.
Trev’s dad answers it.
He eyes me warily. “Caden, right?”
“Yeah, is Trev here? Can I speak to him?”
“He’s in the gym. I’ll show you.”
He walks me through the house to a set of glass double doors that open onto an orange-tiled patio with an old treadmill and a set of weights. Beyond the equipment is a lap pool. Trev is standing beside the weight machine holding a dumbbell. He’s wearing a navy jersey and basketball shorts. The shirt is darkened from his neck to the middle of his chest.
He raises the weight, wincing as he moves. I dig my fingernails into my palms.
“Hey, Caden,” he says. “Did Nat send you?”
“Juliet, actually.”
“Figures. How’s Nat holding up?”
“Do you want me to lie?”
He passes the weight to his other hand and lifts it. “Kinda.”
“Well, I’m not going to. She’s not doing that well, man. She might even be suicidal.”
He raises the weight again.
My eyes narrow. “She was your world, man. Why did you do this? It doesn’t make any sense.”
He places the weight down on the shelf. The metal screeches.
“Love is complicated, Caden. More than anything, that’s what it is.”
“Not with you and Natalie. You’re so perfect together, everyone is jealous. Fine, I’ll say it. I was jealous of you. I want so badly to have what you had. And you just threw it away? Why?”
He finally meets my eyes. His eyes are bloodshot. “I cheated on her, man. And breaking up with her was easier than dealing. It’s hell, but it’s easier.”