A Girl Called Malice. Aurelia B. Rowl

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      ‘You’re supposed to get changed before you go swimming, you know,’ came a female voice from a few feet away. ‘Or at least take your shoes off.’

      Zac recognised the voice instantly; his mouth already curved into a grin. Speak of the devil. ‘Ah, thank you. I thought I was probably doing something wrong.’

      Alice replied with a giggle but as he turned to greet her, his pulse skittered at the sight of her. Stood with her bag over her shoulder, wearing not enough clothing and way too much make-up, she looked more like a drag queen version of herself. Or maybe an evil twin. It was a fight to regain control of legs that were trying to make him back away.

      He could have sworn her eyes were more of a khaki colour, but now they were bright blue. Unnaturally blue. ‘Fallen out of any trees lately?’ he asked, planting his foot firmly on the floor.

      ‘No, it’s like I told you…no more tree-climbing for me.’

      ‘Good. Just checking.’ In more ways than one. If Alice hadn’t have spoken first, he doubted he would have recognised her. ‘So how are your hands?’

      ‘Good as new,’ she said, holding them out in front of her and wiggling her fingers. ‘See?’

      ‘Gre—’ A shudder ripped through him; the combination of being tickled and the shock of the icy chill as several drops of rain dripped onto the back of his neck. The sudden movement caused more water to run in rivulets down his legs.

      ‘The nearest gents is upstairs,’ Alice teased, directing his attention to the water pooling around his feet. ‘Unless it’s too late?’

      ‘Damn.’ The puddle was getting bigger by the second but there was so much he wanted to ask. ‘Are you going to be here for a while? I need to go and get dried off before I pose a health and safety risk but I could catch up with you after?’

      ‘Um…’ Alice sank her teeth into her bottom lip, creating a dent in the garish red lipstick. Surely she’d have to scrape it all off to swim? ‘I’m kind of meeting a…a friend.’

       Kind of?

      Her story would have been a whole lot easier to believe if she’d held his gaze, but she broke off to stare at his feet, revealing the thickness of the black line painted along the edge of her eyelid. Easily as thick as the straps on her flimsy top—thicker in fact—she couldn’t even put the trowel job down to her hands being knackered so had to have done it that way on purpose.

      ‘Oh OK.’ Intrigue be damned, he should consider it a blessing that she was trying to put him off. Think of it as a narrow escape. If Alice was up to something then he didn’t want to know. ‘Some other time, then?’ he added, purely out of politeness.

      ‘Really?’ Her voice lost its defensive edge and was replaced by an enthusiasm he hadn’t anticipated.

      ‘Er…sure.’

      ‘Thanks. I’d like that.’ The open, relaxed expression on her face came as a surprise too and this time he did believe her.

      ‘Me too.’ Maybe he’d finally be able to get some answers or at least get her out of his head. ‘We’ll have to sort something out.’

      ‘Definitely.’ Her gaze flitted to the clock and then to the folded newspaper in her hand before lifting back to him. ‘Now, hadn’t you better go and dry off before you turn the foyer into a second swimming pool?’

      Zac watched in amazement as the shutters slammed down over her eyes. ‘Trying to get rid of me already?’ he asked, disguising his question as a joke.

      She laughed on cue—totally fake though—and a manic spark flashed behind the freaky blue lenses. If he read her correctly though, her bluff had nothing to do with him. Either way, he couldn’t argue with her dismissal; not only was he soaking the floor, the shivers were getting the better of him.

      ‘Take care, Alice,’ he said, although what possessed him to use those particular words was a mystery.

      ‘You too, Zac. It was good to see you again.’ She saved him the trouble of an awkward goodbye by stalking up to the reception desk.

      When she leaned forward to pay, Zac discovered just how short her skirt was and how little it covered. Modesty seemed to be the least of her problems, so he ignored the urge to find something to drape over her. Zac shook himself out of a stunned daze and realised he wasn’t the only one staring after her. Maybe getting caught in a flash flood was preferable to a sandstorm after all?

      After one final glance, he forced his legs to move and set off down the corridor ahead of her towards the relative peace of the staff room. For once, the room was empty so he wandered over to his locker to grab his old sweats and T-shirt, along with the towel he kept there. Pity there was no hope of getting his trainers dry for the run home.

      Another shiver rippled through him as he considered the choice between his soggy shoes or the flip flops he wore poolside. Both meant wet feet for the foreseeable. Enough dawdling, he needed to get warm and dry. Zac packed up his gear, rolling his spare clothes inside his towel, then grabbed his shower gel before heading to the men’s changing room.

      Shy schoolboys occupied the few shower cubicles. Too cold to be fussy, Zac peeled off his sodden clothes and made do with the communal showers. Tension coiled up in his shoulders like a tightly wound spring. The fresh scent of his shower gel washed away the grubby residue left behind by the rain and the mud from splashing in puddles but did nothing for his nagging concerns.

      When the shower cut off abruptly for the fourth time, he leaned one hand against the cool tiled surface then held down the press button for the shower valve with the other hand. Eyes closed, he let the hot water cascade over him, coaxing life back into his fingertips and toes.

      ‘Hey, mate, you OK?’

      ‘Huh?’ Zac startled and turned his head towards the voice. He opened his eyes to find Josh staring at him from the next shower. ‘Oh, hey, Josh. Yeah, I’m fine thanks.’

      ‘Have you been swimming? I didn’t see you.’

      ‘No, I was out running and got caught in the deluge. This place was closer than home so I figured I’d come here.’

      ‘Sounds grim.’

      ‘It was. I was easily as wet as you when I got here.’

      ‘Yuck,’ Josh said, twisting his face into a grimace. ‘Shame you weren’t poolside. You missed some spectacular talent just now.’

      ‘Yeah? Is one of the under nines coming good?’

      Josh laughed. ‘Nah, mate, not that sort of talent. I meant the other one. You know, the one that comes in a teeny-tiny swimsuit with pert tits and legs up to her armpits,’ he said, drawing the shape of an hourglass in the air.

      ‘Oh right,’ Zac said flatly.

      ‘I swear she was giving me the eye too.’ The lascivious grin spreading across Josh’s face was what had landed the guy with his questionable reputation with the female lifeguards.

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