VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 112

[POV: Narrator]

Most of the group had already sprinted for the lake, peeling shirts over their heads and shrieking the second they hit the freezing water. Lando cannonballed in with a war cry, even though he'd technically won the game and shouldn't have had to jump at all. Pecco and Fabio were already up to their waists, yelling over each other about who'd been pushed and who'd jumped on their own. Max was chest-deep, arms crossed like he'd been born in arctic water.

But Andi hadn't moved yet.

She stood at the edge of the dock, arms wrapped tight around herself, hoodie still on, socks bunched in her Birkenstocks. The rising moon made her anxious; she didn't like how she couldn't see where the shallows ended and the deep started.

Her head still throbbed. She wasn't sure if it was from the dodgeball hit earlier or from the weekend in general, but either way, it wasn't helped by the idea of plunging into ice-cold water all over again. She'd just stopped shivering after what felt like two straight days of being damp, wind-bitten and competitive. Her muscles were sore. Her legs ached. Her voice was tired from yelling. She wasn't sure she had anything left to prove.

And she also didn't mind if Lando had a go at her for 'not complying with his rule.'

Oscar was pretty deep into the water now, arms crossed loosely over his chest as he watched a few others inch their way in beside him — slow and reluctant, the only logical way to enter water that cold. He looked sideways, scanning the dock, and spotted her still standing there. Hoodie zipped, arms tight, clearly frozen in place. Both literally and figuratively.

He came closer.

"You coming?" he asked.

Andi put on a smile. Not a real one — one of those smiley, oh-so-polite expressions she'd mastered years ago.

"Actually, I think I'll stay out here," she said, backtracking slowly toward the cabins. "It's, um... warm-ish. You guys have fun, and uh... don't tell Lando I've forfeited! I think— wait, is that...? I think I hear them calling us in for dinner. That's definitely dinner. Yep. And I'm starving, so I'll just head back and—"

Oscar grabbed her arm.

"Come on," he said, not letting go. "You'll regret it if you don't."

"I won't. I really won't."

"You always regret it when you miss stuff."

"You sound like my dad."

He pulled her closer to the dock's edge. "We'll go in together. It's fine, I promise."

She visibly stiffened, pulling back against his hold, "If you pull me in, Oscar, I swear to God I will—"

"I'm not pulling you," he said. "Just trust me."

He stepped down first, feet slipping back into the water as he balanced himself on the edge of a flat rock just beneath the surface. She was still a little higher, standing at the top of the dock, looking down at him with her arms crossed, unimpressed.

He held both his hands out for hers.

She sighed, kicking off her Birkenstocks before she reached down to pull her socks off one by one, wobbling a little as she leaned on one foot and then the other. Then she stood there, still bundled in her hoodie and joggers, arms crossed again.