CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Somehow, the rest of the day's classes manage to pass without event. People still stare, but it gets less and less as the hours go by. By the time the last bell rings, it almost seems that everyone has forgotten about me and moved on.

I run up the stairs and into my dorm, which (thank goodness) is empty. Opening up my suitcase, I pull out one of the two swimsuits I brought.

I'd stuffed them into my luggage at the last minute, more as a gesture of hope than anything else. I hadn't known for sure that there would be a pool at Hawthorn, but now I'm glad I took the chance.

With the suit on under my clothes and goggles and a cap in hand, I jog back down the stairs and out the main building's back door. Signs point me along a cobblestone path to a building that says "Vandemark" on its front door. It has high, wide windows spanning its whole perimeter and the second I open the door, the familiar smell of chlorine hits my nose.

Bleachers line the walls, between them a vibrant, sparkling po