SilverMoonLight (SilverMoonSaga Book 1) (6 page)

BOOK: SilverMoonLight (SilverMoonSaga Book 1)
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Finally,
the day arrived. On the way to the swim hall, my nerves were even worse than I
had expected. My pitiful hours of practice were nothing compared to my previous
training in Washington. I felt out of form, and was sure I didn’t have a
chance. I was such an idiot; why hadn’t I trained more often?

»Everyone
go get changed into your swimming gear, we’re starting in ten minutes,« called
Mr. Fallen, the swim coach, as he unlocked the hall. He was a wiry little man
with grey hair clipped in a buzz cut. The contenders for the team ran off to
the changing rooms.

I
had picked out my black competition swimsuit, one I had previously won a number
of medals in, hoping that it would bring me luck today too.

»You
look amazing in that suit,« gushed Jamie. I didn’t know whether to be pleased
or annoyed that she and Amelie had come to cheer me on.

»We’re
coming and that’s the end of the discussion,« Amelie had said firmly the
previous day, »and if you argue, we’re telling even more people about it.«

When
she said that, I quickly gave in.

As
I walked into the swim hall, I froze. Calum was standing next to Mr. Fallen. He
looked up as I joined the others, and once again I found myself on the
receiving end of a dark stare. I felt myself go cold.

»Hello,«
I said quietly.

»Nice
of you to join us, Emma. Let’s make a start,« said Mr. Fallen.

We
went over to the starting blocks. I stared at the floor in embarrassment.

»It
might be better if you look where you’re going so you don’t run into someone
and fall over. It could be painful on these tiles,« I heard Calum say quietly
behind me.

Hearing
him speak to me was so unexpected that I felt a moment of irrational elation.
But I didn’t have time to reply, for Mr. Fallen had already begun to explain
the rules for the trials.

»Everyone
will swim two hundred meters backstroke and two hundred meters of freestyle.
Then, from the fourteen best, we’ll have races in twos. As you know, there are
only ten spots on the team. I can tell you right now that it’s not just the
time that will decide whether you make the cut, but the way you swim, too. So
give it everything you’ve got. Good luck.«

We
positioned ourselves at the starting blocks. One after the other, the
contenders plunged into the water and swam. There were some really good
swimmers. When Calum dove into the water, I watched with fascination. His
swimming style was unique; his body seemed to melt into the water, and even
though he was plowing through it at high speed, it was as if he hadn’t even
broken the surface. When he emerged, he swept his hair off his face and, much
to my surprise, smiled at me.

I
looked away, wrapping my arms around my body as a shiver ran down my back. I
hoped he hadn’t seen me staring at him. He was simply too perfect. His hair was
slick and dark from the water and a recalcitrant curl kept falling into his
face. Drops of water were pearling from his pale and muscular body. The sight
took my breath away. And it wasn’t just me gazing at him, for the girls on the
spectator benches were staring with open mouths too. I felt irritated at
myself; he speaks to me for the first time in weeks and I immediately lose it.
That couldn’t be healthy, not in the slightest.

»Very
good, Calum, very good indeed,« called Mr. Fallen. »Who else do we have? Ah,
Emma. Come on, it’s your turn.«

I
nervously positioned myself on the starting block. My dive was good, and I
quickly glided into the water. Then I started to do the crawl. How I loved this
feeling, the sense of freedom and power. As I emerged, I felt everyone staring
at me. I shook my wet hair and pushed it away from my face.

»Did
I do something wrong?« I stammered, out of breath.

»No,
not at all!« called Mr. Fallen. »Excellent, that was excellent! Emma, I don’t
think a girl at our school has ever swum such an excellent time.«

I
stared at him in amazement. My gaze wandered over to Calum. He was giving me a
somber look, his forehead wrinkled. What was his problem? He looked angry.
Then, suddenly, his expression brightened.

I
saw Valerie appear at his side, looking phenomenal in her pink bathing suit.
Amelie had told me that she was the quickest girl on the swim team. Until a
moment ago, that was. She stared at me, her eyes full of resentment.

I
climbed out of the pool, reached for my towel and went to sit down with Amelie
and Jamie.

»Valerie
looks like she’s about to explode with anger,« said Amelie, amused. »Well,
pride comes before a fall. She clearly thinks she’s undefeatable.«

The
next stage was the competitive swim, so Mr. Fallen divided us up into pairs. It
was obvious that I was going to be swimming against Valerie. As I walked over
to the starting block, Calum’s stare intensified, becoming darker and darker. I
stared back angrily until he averted his gaze. It was time to turn the tables,
I decided.

Frustrated,
I dove into the water and shot off so quickly that Valerie didn’t have a
chance. My rage was spurring me on.

»Okay,«
called Mr. Fallen once we were done. »Keep an eye on the blackboard over the
next few days, the names of those who made it onto the team will be up there.
Training is on Wednesday and Friday evenings at seven.«

I
quickly grabbed my things and ran off to the changing rooms.

Amelie
and Jamie congratulated me gushingly, but I was reluctant to accept their
praise. »They haven’t decided yet,« I said defensively.

 

»You
should have seen how she swims. She’s on the team for sure,« raved Amelie at
dinner that evening.

»Stop
it,« I said, irritated.

Amelie
laughed. »We have a new star. It was high time someone outstripped smug old
Valerie.«

»Did
you have to swim against Calum?« asked Peter curiously.

»Er,
no, why?«

»I’d
be interested to know whether you’re quicker than he. He’s good.«

»The
way he was looking at Emma, I’d say he’d easily let her win. Valerie nearly
exploded with anger.«

I
stared at Amelie and picked at my food, lost in thought. I hoped no one had
noticed that my cheeks were going red. What did Amelie mean by that? All I had
noticed were indignant, angry stares. It was obvious he couldn’t stand me, and
I didn’t have the slightest idea why.

»Uncle
Ethan, I’d like to start taking guitar lessons again,« I said, eager to change
the subject. »I had lessons once before. Do you know someone I could take
lessons with? The money won’t be a problem, I’m sure.«

Ethan
had told me after my mother’s death that I had inherited an obscenely large sum
of money.

»Hmm,
I’m not sure. Bree, can you think of anyone?« Ethan turned to his wife, who
stood at the stove.

»Ask
Dr. Erickson. I’m sure he knows someone.«

She
came over to the table with a smile and put down a large plate of sliced fruit.

»How
long did you play for?«

»Two
years, and I really enjoyed it. I’m not a complete natural, but I’d love to
stick with it.«

»Do
you think you can manage it alongside school and swimming?« asked Ethan,
popping a slice of apple into his mouth.

»Oh,
I’m sure I can.« That was an understatement; I had top grades in all my
subjects. Besides studying, there wasn’t much to do here on the island. »There’s
no harm in trying, and besides, I don’t even know if I made the swim team yet.«

Ethan
nodded. »Okay then, I’ll ask around, promised.«

A
few days later, the list of the new swim team went up on the notice board. I
stood in front of it, studying the names. I didn’t know many of them. I was on
it, along with Calum, and to my regret, so was Valerie. But I decided not to
let that ruin my good mood. The realization that I would be seeing him twice a
week now filled my stomach with butterflies.

»So
you made it onto the team?«

I
hadn’t even heard him approach, but now his proximity was giving me a tingling
sensation at the back of my neck. All my resolutions of ignoring him evaporated
into thin air. Realizing that his voice didn’t sound like it normally did, I
turned around to look at him. But although his eyes were bright and clear, he
was still managing to give me a dark stare.

»Do
you have a problem with that?«

He
stared at me in silence, his expression as intense as ever. I noticed that my
legs were turning into jelly. Then he turned around and walked off, leaving me
slumped against the wall.

What
the hell was his problem, I wondered angrily once I had pulled myself together.
He was probably just mad because I swam better than his darling Valerie. What
an idiot! Exasperated, I went off to my next class.

 

 

Chapter Five

 

The
following Tuesday afternoon after school, I set off into town. The weather was
getting warmer now and I was looking forward to seeing Sophie again. The house
was normally too hectic for me to be able to read in peace or get lost in my
thoughts.

I
desperately needed something new to read. I was in the mood for some kind of
love story, and knew that I’d find what I was looking for in Sophie’s shop.
Luckily, I’d discovered the bookshop soon after arriving on the island;
otherwise I would have had a big problem getting reading material. The place
was a goldmine.

When
I walked in, my presence announced by the soft tinkle of the bell, I was as
enchanted as I had been the first time. This wasn’t just a shop, it was a
miracle. The light was dim, and apart from me there was no one to be seen. I
closed the glass door, which was embellished with delicate white ornaments. The
space smelled of old paper and freshly brewed black tea. I sniffed at the
aroma—vanilla, my favorite. Then, there was a jangling sound, and Sophie
appeared through a curtain made from hundreds of colorful glass beads.

»Emma,«
she cried in greeting, clearly delighted to see me. »How lovely that you’re
here.« She pulled me deeper into the shop. »Take a look around. I’ve made some
tea; it just needs to infuse a little. You kids have such long hours at school
nowadays, you need some refreshment I’m sure.«

She
shook her head and disappeared behind the jangling curtain again. I smiled and
let the stresses of the day fall away from me.

There
was no kind of system to the shelves at all. The books were arranged neither by
author nor topic. Antique leather-bound books peeped out between brand new
titles. I curiously pulled out one of the older ones.
Robinson Crusoe
,
one of my favorite books when I was little, was located right next to a French
cookbook. I leafed through it, admiring the old drawings. Then I put it back in
the same place, even though that clearly wasn’t necessary.

Reading
lamps were placed all around the shelves, bathing the aisles in warm light.
More and more treasures caught my attention. I discovered
Moby Dick
next
to Machiavelli’s
The Prince
. A new edition of
Pride and Prejudice
was placed alongside Caesar’s
Gallic Wars
in Latin. Virginia Woolf’s
Mrs.
Dalloway
, one of my mother’s favorite books, lay buried beneath a pile of
National Geographics. I pulled it out and wiped my hand over the cover, feeling
that familiar pang that came whenever I thought of my mother. Had her death
really only been ten weeks ago?

Lost
in thought, I meandered farther through the shop. I noticed that a whole
bookcase was reserved for numerous Shakespeare titles; it was the only one that
had any kind of system.

Calum
loved Shakespeare; I knew that much about him at least. Sophie had told me that
he had collected every title he had been able to find in the shop into the
bookcase. I stroked my hand over the books that he had so meticulously
arranged.

»I
don’t understand why men have to be so fussy,« said Sophie behind me. »My
husband doesn’t understand how I ever find anything in here, but he doesn’t
have to come here if he doesn’t want to. He can have things his way at home.
There, every book has its place, and it can’t go onto the bookcase until it’s
decided.«

She
smiled at me, imitating Dr. Erickson’s voice as she spoke.

»But
I let Calum have his fun. If he thinks there’s something that needs arranging,
then he can do it as far as I’m concerned.«

»I
like it how it is,« I said. »You stumble across books you wouldn’t have found
otherwise.«

Sophie
beamed at me.

»Come
on, the tea’s ready.«

She
pulled me gently back through the aisles and nudged me down onto a creaky old
brown leather chair. The steaming tea and little cookies were laid out on a low
table.

I
tugged off my jacket and let it drop, along with my bag, down onto the
thick-carpeted floor. Then I stirred sugar and milk into my cup. By now I had
become so accustomed to all the tea-drinking that I no longer missed my
formerly beloved Café latte from Starbucks.

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