Page 8 of In Too Deep

“Is she?” The words just blurted out of my mouth.

Coach Banks shot me a look. “She’s as passionate as you are, Janet.”

My mouth dropped open. I couldn’t believe Coach Banks was comparing her level of commitment to mine. After all, I was here and she wasn’t. In my mind we were nothing alike.

I wanted to argue, but said nothing.

She was probably just upset about dumping that pussy Greg. Or she decided to go out with him after all and they were together right now.

Or maybe she felt so bad about it that she, too, drowned her sorrows in tequila and woke up with a nasty hangover.

Or maybe she just decided to go back to her old school so Greg wouldn’t bother her anymore.

Whatever, it wouldn’t break my heart to never see her again.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I knew it was too good to be true.

I did see Christina again.

And in the most unexpected place.

When I went to feed the dolphins with Stacey, Christina was there, sitting near the edge of the pool.

What the hell was she doing there. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. My dad said the new marine biologist had a daughter who was the same age I was.

And that daughter was Christine.

Son of a bitch…

“Janet?” Christina looked as surprised I was. “What are you doing here?”

I shook my head in disbelief as I sat down beside her. “Your father is the new marine biologist,” I said, head still shaking. “What are the odds.”

“How’d you know?” she asked, a confused look on her face.

“My dad runs the place,” I said. “Small world, huh.”

“Yes it is,” she said quietly. I could tell by her eyes that she’d been crying.

“Coach was looking for you at practice.”

She sniffed and looked away. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

“You should let her know next time. She’s pretty anal about attendance, especially the week before a meet.”

“I will. Thanks.”

I leaned forward to pet one of the dolphins that had nuzzled up between us.

“Has Stacey fed them already?” I asked.

Christina nodded. “She was waiting for you, I think, but then she said she had to go and the dolphins were getting hungry.”

“Sorry, I’m late,” I said, rubbing Flipper’s snout.

“You come here to help feed them every evening?” Christina asked, watching my interaction with great interest.