Read Online Going Under by S. Walden - Free Book Online

the spike
landed right in the back corner of the court inside the lines. An
“ace,” I was later told. And Cal, of course, snapped the perfect
picture of the ball heading his way, the player in the background
slightly out of focus, still stretched taut in the air with her
hand up. He showed me on the camera screen during a timeout. It was
a beautiful shot, I had to admit.
    “Maybe you should just take all the
pictures,” I said. “I’m not good with a camera.”
    “Why’d you join yearbook then?” he
asked.
    “Well, I’m a decent writer,” I replied. “I
just figured I’d write all the captions and page summaries and
stuff.”
    He nodded.
    I thought it was time to start with the
questions. I had to make sure I didn’t overwhelm him, though, or
make him suspicious. I wanted him thinking I was genuinely
interested in his seedy life.
    “So what things are you involved in at
school?” I asked.
    “Well, Yearbook for one,” he replied.
    I smiled sweetly.
    “And I’m on the swim team,” he said.
    “Oh, so that accounts for your arms,” I
said.
    He liked that comment. I knew he would. His
body swelled with flattery.
    “Yeah, I swim a lot. I swim when I don’t
have to.”
    Whatever that means.
    “Is it, like, a therapeutic thing?” I
asked.
    “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess I never
really thought about it. Speaking of therapy, what happened to you
in the hallway today? I heard someone say you fainted.”
    I flushed a deep crimson and averted my
eyes. “Nothing,” I mumbled.
    “Fainting isn’t ‘nothing’,” he pressed. “You
have a medical condition or something?”
    I was beyond embarrassed. The question came
out sounding harsh and accusatory. There was zero concern in his
tone, but then I looked at his face. It was full of concern, or
maybe he was just really good at faking.
    I didn’t know if I should admit it to him.
It would make me come across weak. And then I thought that could
work to my advantage. In a sick, twisted sort of way, he might like
to hear all about it, feign concern while drawing me into his
confidence. I couldn’t know now how he would use that information
in the future.
    “I have panic attacks every now and then,” I
admitted.
    He was silent for a moment, and I shifted
uncomfortably in my seat.
    “From what?” he asked.
    “I have a bad case of claustrophobia,” I
explained. “And yes, I know I was in a hallway. Not exactly a
closet or anything. But I had an attack anyway. I don’t really know
what triggered it.”
    That was a lie. I freaked out about all the
pretty, frightened girls I saw. Or imagined. I couldn’t remember. I
just knew that something silent and wicked was happening at this
school, and my body went into shutdown mode because of it.
    Cal drew in his breath. “So I guess you
don’t do the whole making-out-in-the-back-seats-of-cars thing.”
    I stared at him, shocked.
    “Oh God, I was only joking,” he said
quickly. “It was supposed to be a joke.”
    I didn’t know what to say, so I just
replied, “I’m gonna get a drink.”
    He caught my arm as I stood up. “Brooke, I’m
sorry. That was a shitty thing to say.”
    I ignored his apology in favor of focusing
on the fact that he called me “Brooke.” For the first time. He’d
addressed me dozens of times in the hallway. Always “Brooklyn.” Now
I was “Brooke.” He knew he messed up and had to fast-track his
plans. For a brief moment, I thought there’d be no more games. No
more making me work to get into his little club. He didn’t want to
miss the opportunity to claim me, especially if he could witness a
panic attack as a result.
    “It’s okay,” I said. “But I really am thirsty.”
    Cal jumped up and shoved the camera in my
hands.
    “I’ll go. You stay here,” he said. “What
would you like?’
    “Just a water,” I replied, looking down at
the camera. I hoped he didn’t expect me to take pictures while he
was gone. I didn’t even know how to use this