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Dedication: Ethereal29 for the amazing blend! It looks awesome! <3

Recap:

Oh my God.

"Wow," he said slowly. He shook his head, his eyes filled with disappointment. "I should learn to knock."

He turned and strode from the kitchen.

Tears burned at my eyes as I laid back onto the table, burying my face into my hands.

Shit.

------------------

I have really done it this time.

Harvey won't answer my calls, my texts and I go to his house this time. His mother says that he is busy studying. I am humiliated at the fact that she stood there and lied to me, because Harvey didn't want to see me. I had to do the walk of shame down his driveway, knowing full well she was watching me and so was he. It was horrible.

I was beginning to wonder if the Coach was even worth it. Of course he was dreamy, handsome and every teenage girl's fantasy, but was he worth risking my swimming career, my spot at an Elite school and most importantly, my best friend? I already knew the answer. He's not.

Sleep evaded me last night. All I could think about was Harvey's hurt face and his hollow voice. I was so disappointed in myself. I convinced myself to never do anything with the Coach again, but lost all self-control the moment he touched me.

I am weak.

I'm confused with myself-I don't even know if I really like him, or if I'm just physically attracted to him.

After lying in bed for hours, tossing and turning, I came up with one conclusion. I was going to have a serious talk with Ashton and see what the hell is going on. I need to know if we are actually going to become a couple who go on dates or if it is purely physical.

Rubbing my eyes wearily, I begin my walk to school. I am dressed in high-waisted denim shorts, only my swimsuit underneath. My arms were exposed to the early morning sunshine. It feels nice not wearing the heavy jacket and long skirt. The less I have to wear the hideous uniform, the better.

As practise was held at 7am every morning, I often stroll in at about ten to. Today, it was five to. I had trouble getting out of bed. My limbs are heavy with sleep and my eyes aching. I don't really want to be here today, but considering I had missed the last practise, I had to come. Especially since I had been 'suspended' from my first comp. I need to redeem myself.

Ashton flickers his eyes to me as I walk in, yawning.

"Just in time, Connaway," he frowns, glancing at his watch. "Glad you finally made an appearance."

I don't reply as I yawn again. Everyone else is ready to go and in line. This was why I wore my swimsuit there. 

Shrugging my bag from my shoulder, I drop it with a thud onto the bench and slide out of my shorts. I notice Ashton glance in my direction, before looking down at his clipboard.

"Okay," he announces. "Next week is our local competition. We're holding it here, which is always an advantage. However, I've noticed that some of you become a little too complacent when it's held at home grounds. I want to see top performance from everyone. I expect a first place in every race."

I blink back my drowsiness as I try to focus on Ashton and what he is saying.

"Hayden, you have held the record for the male freestyle, breaststroke, backstroke and butterfly for three executive years. Let's keep that record going, yes?"

I quirk an eyebrow at Hayden, who is leaning against the locker, looking extremely disinterested and bored. He nods before looking up at the roof.

That is impressive. Three years he has held the record for every stroke. I am speechless.

"Mike," Ashton continues. "You did not place well last year in any of the comps. I would like to see you achieve higher results."

Mike cleared his throat uneasily. "Yes sir."

"Everyone on this team is replaceable. Don't get too comfortable," he warns, giving Mike a pointed look.

Ouch. Glad it isn't me under fire this time.

"Mia, your times are continuing to get shorter which is excellent. You averaged from first-to-third last year, which is good, but we can do better, yes?"

"Of course sir," she responds in a clipped tone. "I plan to win every race from here on out."

I roll my eyes.

"That's what I like to hear," he smiles at her. "Grace, you have yet to compete in a competition but I'm feeling confident with your freestyle times. Your times should get yourself placed highly, if the other swimmers have not improved much from last year. In saying that, you still need to work hard. Okay?"

I nod, trying to hide my smile. This was much better than last week. "Yes sir."

"Any questions before we begin?" he asks, holding his clipboard to his chest.

No one responds.

"Alright. I'd like to do a warm up in the gym today for half an hour, before we hit the pool. We need to continue to work on our arm muscles. Hayden, why don't you run a circuit and the others can follow?"

He nods again, before stalking into the gym. I shake my head. I have no idea what that boy was thinking. Ever.

Following Hayden's lead, we all went to a machine. We have five minutes at each machine, before the timer goes off and we move to the next. After the half an hour, Hayden asked to us complete 20 pushups, 20 sit ups and 20 burpees. By the time I am finished, sweat is running down the back of my neck, my entire face flushed.

"Good," he says, his tone light and professional. "We're done here."

We trail back into the locker room and out into the pool area. Instantly, I am met with the chlorine scent I have become so accustomed to. I re-do my hair, before jamming my goggles onto my face.

"Go ahead," Ashton says to Hayden as he sits back onto the grandstand. "Tell them what to do."

An annoyed look flickers across Hayden's face briefly, before he turns to us.

"I'd like to start with a medley. Two laps of freestyle, two laps of breaststroke, two laps of backstroke and ending on butterfly. I don't want this to be a race. Let's take the time to work on our strokes," he pivots to Ashton. "Can you watch to see what strokes people are struggling with the most?"

Ashton nods, clearly impressed with Hayden. "I can do that."

Hayden turns and makes a face, before storming to the pool. I draw my eyebrows together. He is annoyed about something, but I havde no idea what.

I already knew it was going to be butterfly that we all struggle with. Other than Hayden, we all avoid that stroke. It is everyone's weakness.

We mount the block and I grumble to myself as I am forced into lane 6. I much prefer to be in the center, so when I finish, I have a clear view of everyone else. Besides, everyone knows the fastest are in those lanes.

It annoys me that Mia stands on the block next to Hayden, as if they are the best and we are all trying to get to their level.

Hayden counted backwards from three, and I dove. I propel myself forward, smashing the two freestyle laps with ease. The breaststroke is good as well. It is the backstroke and the butterfly, when I feel myself begin to slow.

I slap the tile and emerge, breathless. I peer around to see Hayden actually out of the pool and sitting on one of the blocks. My eyebrows raise. He must have swum fast to be up and out of the pool, before I even finished.

Mia slapped her hand next and I sent her a smug smirk at having beat her. Hayden did say it wasn't a race, but we were all competitive. Everything was a race.

"Butterfly," Ashton says and a collective groan could be heard throughout the group. "That was by far the weakest."

"Butterfly it is then," Hayden says. "Let's keep working on it."

Heaving a sigh, I push myself from the wall.

I am going to be sore tomorrow.

***

"Harvey," I greet as he walks straight passed me. I shout at him again, louder this time. "Harvey!"

He turns back and glowers at me, before stalking off. I let out a groan and shove my History book into my locker. Great. My only friend hates me. This is going to be fun.

I spend most of my senior science lesson, texting Harvey under the table, trying to get his attention, having no luck. I narrow my eyes as he sits at the front of the classroom, his back to me. Real mature.

I walk up behind Harvey as he sits at our usual lunch table. I let out a breath, before sitting down beside him.

"Hey, grumpy bum," I tease, attempting to keep the mood light. "Before you run away, let me explain-"

He suddenly scrambles to his feet.

"I don't want to hear what you have to say," he growls, before stalking from me.

My heart squeezes painfully as I watch him walk from me. Tears sting at my eyes. Angrily, I unwrap my sandwich and take an aggressive bite into it.

This sucks.

A shadow falls across the table and I eagerly look up, hoping to see Harvey.

"Hey," Hayden says awkwardly.

"Hi," I reply, raising my eyebrows.

"Double practise today, will you be there?" he asks, his face emotionless.

"I plan to be," I nod, fighting off another yawn.

"Good. You can't miss anymore practises."

"I know," I sigh, rubbing my face. "I won't."

"You need to be getting a good amount of sleep at night. These training sessions take a lot out of you."

"I know, I just have a lot on my mind."

"Where's your weird friend?" he asks. "Usually you're never seen a part."

I do a half-hearted shrug. "Don't know. He's not talking to me."

"What did you do?"

"Why do you care?" I ask, staring up at him.

He takes a step back, his face turning blank once more. "I don't."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I'm tired."

"Yeah, whatever," he mutters, sulking away from me as suddenly as Harvey did.

My mouth falls open as I stare after him. What the hell was that about?

I groan, burying my face into my hands. All of these boys are confusing as hell. It is draining me.

Having lost my appetite, I push my food from me and place my head on the table, with my eyes closed. I stay like that until the end of lunch bell rang. The next two periods dragged by at a painfully slow rate.

Robotic-like, I dress into my swimsuit and emerge from the girl change rooms and into the locker room. I was the first one there, much to everyone's surprise.

Ashton smiles at me and I smile back. We all get into line, when someone's phone rang. Hayden suddenly took off from the room, his phone pressed against his ear. I look around, waiting for Ashton to go off, but he doesn't. Everyone acts like nothing happened.

I am 100% positive if my phone rang and I answered the call, just as practise was about to begin, the Coach would skin me alive in front of everyone and hang me by my toes.

There is some weird, unsaid rules that applied to Hayden, I've noticed.

As Ashton began to speak, I continually glanced at the door, waiting for Hayden to come back. He never did. Even through the whole practise, he never returned. Which was ironic, considering he made sure I was going to be here.

My body felt heavy with exhaustion as I stand underneath the shower, my swimsuit still on. I hear the voices fade away as everyone got dressed and left. I was the only one who rinsed off.

I'm leaning against the wall, the water running down my face, when there is a soft knock. Pushing off the wall, I open the cubicle door. Ashton stood there, wearing only board shorts.

"Hey," he grins, shutting the door behind him.

"Is anyone here?" I whisper, slightly panicked at the thought of him being in here with me, even though I am clothed.

"Only me and you," he murmurs, shoving me back under the water.

He roughly pressed his lips to mine, cupping my face. I shove him back.

"We need to talk."

"Talk later," he says huskily, pressing his lips to mine once more. My heart is racing but I refuse to let myself be used by him.

Today, I am unaffected by his charm. I push him back again. He heaves a sigh.

"What?" he snaps.

"Excuse me?" I ask, folding my arms over my chest. "Don't talk to me like that."

He blinks in surprise. "Sorry."

Shutting off the water, I lean against the wall. "What is going on here?"

"What do you mean?"

"You think you can hook up with me whenever you feel like it? Like I'm just some sex toy for you?"

"We haven't had sex."

"But you want to."

"Of course," he says slowly. "Don't you?"

"No," I confess, shaking my head. "I don't if that's all you want from me."

"It isn't," he insists, looking frustrated. "Can we just go back to how we were?"

"No," I exclaim, throwing my hands in exasperation. "Are you actually going to take me out on a date and get to know me?"

"A date?" he questions. "Like, dinner?"

"That usually happens on a date, yeah," I bite back sarcastically.

He falls silent. "Do you want to date?"

"Do you?" I question challengingly.

"No."

"Oh."

He sighs, looking annoyed. "Look, Grace, I just want to keep things casual. I'm your Coach, we can't date."

"Is it that or is it because you don't want to?" I ask, my voice noticeably smaller than it was before.

"Ugh," he groans, raking his hand through his hair in agitation. "Now you're upset."

"I'm not upset."

"Yes, you are," he exhales deeply through his nose and the warm air wafts over my face. "I didn't think you would be like this."

"Like what? A normal person?" I argue.

"I just wanted this to be casual. Clearly, you have other ideas."

"I just don't want to be some sex object that you feel you can play with whenever you want to!" I snap, my fists balling to my sides. "Besides, you're my Coach."

"What do you expect from me?" he growls, folding his arms.

"I'm just trying to figure out what the hell is going on between us!" I cry, squeezing the skin in between my eyes as I feel a headache beginning to form. "You started this. You sent me flowers. You dragged me in here and kissed me. You forced me into your car and made out with me in my kitchen. This has all been you and now, you're saying you don't want anything with me that involves a relationship or even dating?"

He shrugs, looking at me indignantly. "I guess."

"Well, good," I snap, trying my hardest to not show any emotion. I was doubting how I felt about him anyway. "I'm glad I know where we stand."

"Grace," he nods, reaching out to me, but I wrench my hand out of his touch.

"No, if you don't want to be with me, you're not allowed to touch me."

"Come on, you're being ridiculous."

Pushing past him, I storm out into the change rooms. I yank my shorts on, my hands trembling.

I was so blinded by his gorgeous features and his soft, caressing touch, that I had completely missed the part where he was a loveless monster who was clearly sex deprived and wanted to use me to satisfy his needs.

I deserve much better than this. Harvey was right - I never should have let myself get in this situation.

I stomp back into the locker room and grab my bag. Ashton is no longer there. I let out a huff, refusing to let any of the tears I have in my eyes to spill. I am a big girl, if I have to cry, I was saving that for when I got home. He doesn't get the satisfaction of seeing me like this.

As I swing my bag onto my shoulder, I notice another gym bag sitting there. Edging towards it, I peer inside. There is a plain white shirt, a pair of denim shorts, goggles, a swim cap and a now-warm gatorade. It definitely had to be one of the boy's.

I unzip the bag further and see that the card on the inside had been written on. The writing was messy, as if someone young had wrote it. I glance at the bag, seeing it had been very used and was beginning to fray.

Hayden Cameron.

There is a faded phone number, with the last few digits missing and an address scribbled on the card. That is probably a good idea, I never filled mine in. When Hayden took the call, he must have left school and not come back for his bag.

Hauling his bag onto my other shoulder, I tilt my head back and stormed out of the room with purpose.

I am better off without Ashton, anyway.

***

As I arrive at the address, I turn off google maps and shove my phone into my back pocket.

The house is quite large, but noticeably old. The paint on the front was withering and the rusty gate was crooked and half off its hinges. The garden is slightly overgrown, but nothing too drastic.

Considering I had automatically assumed Hayden was rich, it was unexpected for his house to seem this neglected.

Slipping through the gate, I walk up to the porch. I knock three times, before stepping back.

I knock again, after a few moments. I hear a bang and someone curse, before the door swung open. I stare down at a flustered looking lady whose stray bits of hair is stuck to the sweat on her forehead.

Instantly, I knew it was Hayden's mother. She has the same, olive skin and bright green eyes. The same chestnut locks, although hers much longer than his.

I try to keep the surprised look off my face as I notice she is wheelchair-bound.

"Sorry," she says breathlessly and apologetically. She had fresh bruise on her cheek and a cut on her chin. I try not to stare. "It's hard to wheel myself across the house to get to the door in time."

"No problem at all," I chirp back. "Just wondering if Hayden lives here?"

"He does," she nods. "Are you a friend from school?"

I grin. Friend. He would love to know I told his mother we were friends, I'm sure.

"Yeah, I'm on the swim team with him. He left in such a hurry today, he forgot to take his gym bag with him. I thought he might need it."

"Oh!" she says with a smile. "That's very thoughtful of you. Come in."

She wheels back and I step in, shutting the door behind me.

"Yes, he did have to leave in a hurry," she explains. I can hear some music being played, but I'm not sure sure where it was coming from. "I had a fall today. I tried to reach something off the bench and tipped myself over. I have a carer during the day, but she had left early to go see another client."

"Oh," I say awkwardly, not really sure what was appropriate to say back.

"He's upstairs," she says and I notice the slight flinch her body had when she said the word 'stairs'. "You'll need to knock loudly, his music is deafening."

"Sure, thanks," I say to her, before jogging up the stairs.

I follow the sound of the music and knock on his door. As expected, no response. I push the door open.

Hayden has his back to me. He is playing the guitar. It is hooked up to an amp but I can't hear the amp playing. As I walk in, I notice he had earplugs jammed into his ears. He is playing the same as the song that was on his stereo, a song I knew quite well. My dad used to play the guitar to it, too.

Nothing Else Matters by Metallica.

It brought back memories of my father, sitting out on our old porch, playing his guitar, with me crawling around on my knees underneath him as I was young at the time. He used to play it every afternoon after he had picked me up from school.

I watch in awe as his fingers danced articulately over the strings. He is a natural. His fingers move so fast and clean. I am mesmerised. 

His skin is smooth and unblemished. His back muscles moved with each time he tugged on the strings. I was used to seeing Hayden shirtless-every day we did swim practise together-but today I was staring at his body, like I hadn't seen it before. He is so fit.

As he is stretching his fingers and the next song had come on, I took a moment to stare around his room. It was a simple set up. There was a large, king-size bed in the centre of the room. He had a desk off to the right, where books were scattered across it. There was a T.V hung up on the wall, facing his bed. He was sitting on the end of his bed, staring towards the window, the only window in his room.

The wall near the door is littered with posters ranging from bands, to famous swimmers. My eyes froze when I get to the corner of his room. There is a message written on the wall, although it had been crossed out. From what I could see, it said:

'Carrie and Hayden forever'.

I bit my lip as there was a series of blu-tack marks on the wall, but all the photos had been ripped down. There was also a broken photo frame sitting on his bedside table.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he suddenly asks.

I jump in alarm, whirling around, my heart leaping in my chest. I hadn't even realised the music had been turned down.

"Er-you left your gym bag in the locker room," I explain, feeling awkward all of a sudden.

"Oh."

"Yeah, you had your address on the card."

"I see," he says, placing the guitar down onto his bed. He throws his earplugs to the floor, the other end still attached to his amp. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to know that you're a slayer on the guitar."

He let out a low chuckle, his face physically relaxing. "Thanks."

Strolling towards him, I sit at the other end of the bed that was vacant. "Very cool set up you've got here. My dad used to play guitar."

"Was he any good?"

"He was pretty good."

"Why doesn't he play anymore?" he asks, flexing his fingers.

"He probably would, if he was alive."

He pauses, flicking his eyes to mine. He doesn't say anything.

"Anyway," I say, looking around. "Sorry for just stopping by. Thought you might need your stuff for tomorrow or to wash them or whatever."

"Yeah, that's cool. Thanks."

"No problem."

"Did you meet my mum?" he asks quietly.

"I did. She's really nice."

He stares at me, looking unconvinced at my nonchalant attitude. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions."

"Nope," I say breezily.

"Bullshit."

"I don't."

"Whatever," he mutters.

"Whatever," I echo, mimicking him.

He frowns at me and I grin. I love pissing him off.

"You're weird."

"Takes one to know one," I tease.

"See? Weird."

I let out a laugh. "So? Better than being boring."

He rolls his eyes. "How did I know you were going to say something like that?"

I'm actually glad Hayden left his bag at school. It gave me an excuse to not go home and wallow in self-pity of being broken-hearted. He is a welcomed distraction.

He suddenly stands. "Do you want a toasted sandwich?"

I let out a loud laugh. "That's random."

"I feel like one."

"Sure, I would love a toasted sandwich."

He rummages through his gym bag and I take the time to watch his back muscles dance deliciously. He is very toned. He must work out a lot.

Yanking his shirt over his head, he walks from the room. As I am leaving, I notice a bunch of Olympic swimming DVDs.

I jog after him. "I didn't peg you to be a nerd."

"Huh?"

"I saw your stash of swimming DVDs," I taunt, poking his arm. "Nerd."

He smirks, his eyes drifting to where I had touched him. "I'm the captain. I have to have shit like that."

"Do not."

"Do so," he argues back.

"I was the captain at my old school and I didn't have a secret stash of DVDs."

"Maybe you weren't a very good captain, then," he shrugs, earning himself a punch in the shoulder.

"What are you guys making?" his mother asks, wheeling into the kitchen behind us. "Oh, wait, let me guess, chicken and cheese toasted sandwiches?"

"They are my specialty," he assures me.

This was cool to see this side of him. He is so relaxed and carefree. Nothing like he is at school - tense, disinterested, vacant.

"Do you want one?" he asks her.

"Please, I'm starving."

She began to wheel herself away, when she suddenly pivoted. "I'm Heather, by the way."

"I'm Grace, nice to meet you," I smiles.

Her lips curved into a knowing smile as she glances at Hayden. "Grace?"

Hayden doesn't look up but by the way he tensed, he knew she was looking at him. I stare at the two, confused.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," she smirks, before rolling out.

"Do you talk about me, or something?" I ask once she was out of ear-shot.

"No, of course not," he retorts snarkily.

"Sure you don't."

"Shut up and grate some cheese, woulddya'?"

"Yes sir," I reply sarcastically.

Hayden Cameron spoke of me to his mother. This made the smile on my face widen.

Withdrawing cheese from the fridge, I unwrap the cover. I watch as he turns on the fry pan.

"Do you cook them in the fry pan?" I question.

"Duh, how else?"

"Um, in a normal toasted sandwich maker?"

"I'm too cool for that."

"Oh, clearly. My bad."

I watch as Hayden prepared our food. He did it so effortlessly, not that it was that hard to make. He could swim, play guitar and cook? Talk about a triple threat. Did I mention that he was also jaw-droppingly attractive?

We all sit on the lounge. I bite into my sandwich and my mouth waters. It tastes so damn good.

"Have I turned you?" he asks.

"What?" I ask rudely, my mouth full.

"Have I turned you to making them with a fry pan?" he questions, an amused smile on his face.

I internally groan. He looks so handsome when he smiles. My hormones are all over the place, at the moment.

"Oh hell yeah."

He grins. "Told ya."

I sit back in my chair, unable to wipe the smile from my face.

I did not expect my afternoon to turn out like this.

-------------------

What do you think about the ordeal between Ashton and Grace? Do you think she was right to question him on what they were? And what do you think about him not wanting to date her?

Due to popular demand, I added the scene with Hayden and made it extra long! You should totally thank me by commenting and voting! ;)

Were you surprised to hear about his mother? Or surprised at what he is like at home?

Please let me know your thoughts! Vote if you liked it and comment what you think! :)

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