It doesn’t work as well as the lock pick formed for that purpose, but after a few minutes of struggling, the first girl manages to free herself. She passes on the Bobby pin.
The Freshmen are behind now.
I fumble with the last padlock on my right ankle, finally finding the appropriate angle and popping the hasp. I pass the pick along to Ares, glad to get the fuck out of the water.
Now only Ares, Anna, and Leo are left on our team.
Ares finishes quickly, taking only a few seconds to pop his locks.
Anna takes a little longer, as she has four separate padlocks on her length of chain. She grits her teeth, her slim shoulders shaking as the icy water hits her again.
“You’ve got this,” Leo murmurs to her.
“Almost there . . .” Anna mutters, and finally the chains fall away.
She passes Leo the pick.
The water is up to his neck now, and the next wave hits him right in the face. He holds tight to the pick, jamming it into the lock.
Meanwhile, the shorter Claire Turgenev is already almost entirely underwater. She has to tilt her head all the way back to catch a breath between the waves.
Stubbornly, she refuses to submit.
“Don’t you fucking stop, Jasper,” she says to the second-last Senior, spitting out a mouthful of seawater.
Jasper Webb pops the last lock and presses the pick into her hand.
Claire takes one final gulp of air, then lets the waves wash over her as she blindly tries to pick her locks underwater.
I watch the place where she disappeared, wondering if she’s really going to drown herself rather than give in.
“Got it!” Leo says, popping up like Harry Houdini with the chains dropping away.
Claire still hasn’t emerged. I glance at Professor Howell, wondering what he’s waiting for.
He watches the spot where Claire submerged, silently counting the seconds she’s been under. A full minute passes.
Professor Howell frowns, unable to even see air bubbles rising in the rough surf. He uncrosses his arms, ready to intervene.
Right as he takes a step forward, his sneaker sinking into the wet sand, Claire jumps up, drenched and shaking.
“Done!” she coughs.
The waves tumble over Kade Petrov and the three remaining Freshmen, dragging them out with the chains still wrapped tight around them. Professor Penmark and Professor Howell rush forward to haul them out of the water. One of the Freshman boys retches up seawater and one of the girls looks close to tears.
“No!” Kade sputters. “We weren’t done!”
“You’re out of time,” Professor Howell says. “The other teams are done.”
Kade stands on the beach, shaking with cold and acridly disappointed. He can’t meet the eyes of his teammates.
I clap him on the shoulder, making him jump.
“You did well,” I say. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“We lost,” Kade says. “We’re out of the challenge.”
“Not everything is in your control.”
“Then how come Adrik always manages to win?” Kade says bitterly.
“I don’t know.” I shake the seawater out of my eyes. “I’m not Adrik, either.”
Kade looks up at me, remembering who he’s talking to—not a perpetual champion like Adrik or Leo. Just another person who sometimes takes it in the teeth, despite all he can do.
“Hey, I meant to tell you,” Kade says awkwardly, “I’m sorry about your dad.”
“He made his choice,” I say, shrugging it off.
I hate that my father had to embarrass me one last time in such a public way. I’ve squashed the attempts of any of my friends to talk about it. The only person I’ve discussed it with is Cat. And Snow, the day I found out what happened.
We all have to make the long walk back up to school, shivering beneath the towels that Professor Howell handed out.
I walk with Kade, even though we’re not talking, because I know how it feels to be alone with your failure.
20
Cat
Lola is driving me bonkers.
We share almost all our classes, and she won’t get off my fucking ass.
I swear she’s following me around campus just to give me shit.
She seems to pop up everywhere, especially if Dean isn’t around. She accosts me in the hallways, the dining hall, and even the library now that her ban has elapsed—though she’s careful to make sure Miss Robin isn’t around before she starts harassing me.
As I pass through the common room on my way out of the Undercroft, she jumps up out of an overstuffed armchair, blocking my path.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she demands, shifting in front of me as I try to sidestep her.
“None of your business,” I say shortly.
“Are you going up to the Bell Tower to meet Dean again?”
I narrow my eyes at her. I think of the Bell Tower as belonging to me and Dean alone. I’m annoyed that she knows about it.
“What exactly is your fixation with me, Lola? Harassing me isn’t going to get you back in the Quartum Bellum.”
“I don’t give a fuck about that stupid competition,” Lola snarls, tossing her shining hair contemptuously.
“Then what the fuck is it?”
“It’s you,” she sneers, towering over me even in her flat shoes. “Mousy, sneaky, stupid little you. Everything about you irritates me.”
“Then why can’t we just avoid each other in peace?”
I try to step around her again but she blocks me, her arms folded across her sweater-clad breasts. Lola always looks like she stepped off the pages of a Ralph Lauren catalog—nails manicured, skirt freshly pressed, not a hair out of place.
“I wish I could avoid you,” Lola says softly, “but you’re always strutting around with Anna Wilk and Chay Wagner and Leo Gallo, like you’re one of them, like you belong. They’re not your friends. They just pity you. You’re barely a mascot to them.”
I can feel my face getting hot.
Lola is poking at my deepest insecurity, and she knows it.
But she’s not invulnerable herself. In attacking me, she’s letting her own weakness show.
“You’re jealous,” I say, in wonder.
“Jealous of you?” Lola sneers. “Why would I ever be jealous of you?”
“I don’t know,” I say, moving to pass her again. “Maybe you just can’t stand to see someone else happy—”
This time Lola shoves me hard in the chest so I stumble back a step.
“And why are you so happy, exactly?” she demands. “ ‘Cause of your new boyfriend? You don’t actually think he likes you?”
Now she’s really starting to piss me off. My hands ball into fists, my nails cutting into my palms.
“Just because he likes fucking you doesn’t mean he gives a shit about you . . .” Lola hisses. “I saw you chasing after him like a lost puppy, carrying his books to class . . . He’s using you because you’ll do whatever he says. When he’s tired of you, he’ll throw you away. And you’ll be back to the lonely little loser you always were all along.”
“You don’t know anything about Dean and me,” I spit back at her.