Page 38 of Jump on Three

“Yes, of course.” I peered up at him through my lashes. “You’re Delilah’s friend, after all.”

“Right.” He nodded a few times. “Did you have a good night?”

“Mmmhmm. Bella and I watched a movie. It’s never just the two of us, but she was lonely, I was there, and…well, I think I cheered her up, if only for the moment. We made plans I hope we keep. Have you ever been to an EDM festival?”

He scratched his tilted head. “I haven’t. Is that your plan with Bella?”

“Yes. She is convinced I’ll like it if I go VIP style. And I want to try, even though new situations, loud noises, and big crowds are my antithesis of a good time.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Bella knows this and still wants you to go?”

“She asked me how I know I wouldn’t like it if I didn’t try it, and I conceded her point. Besides, I want to like it. I want to wear a matching neon outfit with Bella and dance with her under the stars to my music.”

“When is this?”

“In April.”

“I will come with you.”

I jerked back, hitting the window. “You will? But you weren’t invited.”

“Is it a problem if I come?”

“I’ll have to ask Bella.”

He lowered his chin. “That is fair. If she says no, I might come anyway.”

I stopped myself from asking why. I suspected he would say something nice, and he’d already said too many nice things for one short bus ride.

“I’m going to put my headphones on now.”

He smiled, unfazed by my abruptness. “All right, Evelyn.” He reached into his pocket and plucked out a pair of earbuds. “I’ll do that too. Maybe we’ll be listening to the same music.”

“Maybe,” I whispered before sliding my headphones into place.

I knew, without a doubt, Ivan and I weren’t listening to the same thing since he was fluent in Russian and I was learning it through daily recordings. But it was a nice thought anyway.

Chapter Thirteen

Evelyn

My events for the meet were over. I won my two-hundred-yard medley and one-hundred-yard breaststroke. Our relay team came in second to last, and that was only because the other team was disqualified.

Those results were exactly what I’d expected.

Normally, I would get lost in my knitting, my headphones on, and mentally remove myself, but today, I was interested. My yarn and needles lay unused on my lap. I watched the boys race with the rest of my team.

Ivan was at the edge of the pool, swinging his arms in windmills. He stood a head above the other boys, and his wingspan seemed to be twice anyone else’s.

There were other boys from our team in this race, but he was the only one I was interested in watching.

My breath caught when the signal sounded and his long form dove into the water. I had to breathe—this was a five-hundred-meter race—but found it difficult. Everyone around me was yelling and cheering, but I was focused on Ivan slicing through the water like a knife.

There was no competition from our opposing team. A few of the boys from SA were close to Ivan’s level, but his body was made for this, and they could not catch him. His giant palms scooped the water out of his way, making room for him to glide down the lane.

In no time, he was on his last lap. Before I knew what I was doing, I dropped my yarn into my bag and jumped to my feet, clapping and cheering without regard to anyone else.

When he hit the final wall, my voice rose above all the others, and his head swiveled in my direction. Goggles torn off, his eyes found mine, and a grin spread across his wet face.