Never Ever

44| Helpless

It's only been seconds—milliseconds even—but somehow, I know before anyone else.

Noah's in trouble.

Beside me, Addy leans in, grasping my clenched hands and peering into my face. "Hey," she says, her voice sounding distant. "Are you okay, Ever?"

I remain silent, my gaze darting to Coach stationed on the pool sidelines, arms crossed, attention fixed a few meters ahead, seemingly oblivious to Noah's absence. Meanwhile, Calbear fans continue to stomp and cheer around us as if nothing is wrong.

Maybe they're right. Maybe you're the one overreacting again, just like at the pool party. But if I am, I don't care. I'd rather be wrong and look stupid again than risk Noah's life. Breathless, I jump to my feet, squeezing past people, yelling Noah's name over the commotion.

The logical part of me reasons Noah's the best swimmer I know. He's the captain for crying out loud. He practically grew up in the water. There's no way he won't come up any second now. But what if he hit his head? Or landed awkwardly? I've heard of it happening before—someone dives wrong and breaks their neck.

What if he's in trouble?

I finally reach the aisle, sprinting down the steps in a panic, tears already burning my eyes. It's only been seconds. You're just being ridiculous. He's coming back up. But then I look up, catching sight of Jesse's frozen form, his eyes wide and fearful as he stares into the water, and just like that, I can't breathe.

From that moment, everything seems to happen at once. Jesse springs into action, diving off the starting block and disappearing beneath the water's surface. The cheers from the crowd fade into murmurs of confusion, blending into the background as my legs threaten to buckle beneath me. People around me look around uncertainly, as if no one can process what's happening – least of all me.

It doesn't even matter. All that matters is getting to Noah. My heart thuds harder as I reach the last step, my grip tightening on the barrier as I scream his name. Other than my desperate voice, the entire poolside is silent, waiting anxiously for them to break the surface.

The other swimmers are hurried out of the pool as I grip the barrier tightly, feeling the hushed stillness behind me closing in, confirming every doubt I'd had since Noah entered the water. My heart is pounding. I squeeze the rail harder, trapped in the same nightmare I've been haunted by for months. Only this time, it's not me below that surface, struggling for breath.

It's Noah.

It feels like an eternity passes before Jesse emerges, lifting Noah's limp body above the water's surface. With Pax's help, they hoist him over the pool's edge and lay him on the tiles. For a brief moment, I catch Noah's face—pale skin, curls of hair clinging to his forehead, eyes shut tight–and just like that, the hope I'd been desperately clinging to shatters.

As panic grips the rest of the team, Jesse drops to his knees beside Noah, tilting his chin up and administering breaths into his mouth, followed by several compressions to Noah's chest. Tears sting my eyes as I rush forward, praying with every fiber of my being that he's okay. Ignoring the distant shouts to stay back, I leap over the railing, awkwardly falling onto the slick floor.

Picking myself up, I push through the crowd that has formed until I collide with Coach. His arm comes out to stop me, attempting to shield me from the sight of Jesse delivering several forceful blows to Noah's chest, but he's too late. Panting, sobbing, I feel myself hunch over as a pair of arms drag me back.

That's the last glimpse of Noah I catch before the team swarms around him, blocking my view, and the crowd in the stands are ushered out. Addy grabs my hand, leading me through the shifting crowd, but I hardly register where we're going. My focus remains on the group surrounding Noah, desperately waiting for that moment where their panicked faces to morph into relief, but it doesn't come.