Chapter 17 – Close Call in the Showers
Sam's POV
If there’s one place my disguise feels paper-thin, it’s here.
The showers.
No hoodies. No layers. No shadows to hide in. Just tiled walls, steam curling through the air, and way too many chances to slip up.
I’ve been putting it off since I moved into Dorm 9. Always timing my showers late, waiting until the halls are empty, hoping nobody would notice that I never stripped down in front of them like the rest of the boys.
But tonight, my luck runs out.
It starts after practice. Everyone’s sweaty, loud, reeking of cologne and testosterone. The coach barked at us for two hours straight, and by the time we stumble back into the dorms, every guy is peeling off shirts, joking, yelling about who smells worse.
“Showers, boys!” Declan bellows, smacking one of his friends on the back. “If I have to sit next to you in chem tomorrow, I don’t wanna gag.”
Laughter erupts. Elias just shakes his head, trailing behind with his usual quiet stride.
And me? My stomach twists into knots.
If I skip now, if I make another excuse, someone will notice. Someone always notices.
So I force myself to follow them into the locker-room showers.
The steam hits instantly, hot and damp, clinging to my skin. Tiles echo with voices, water rushing, boys shoving each other around.
I keep my head down, clutching my towel like a lifeline.
The trick is speed. In and out before anyone can look too closely.
I stake out the farthest stall, praying no one cares enough to bother me. I turn on the water, scalding heat masking the tremor in my hands.
It should be fine. It’s just a shower. I’ve got the layers under control, the binder tight, the routine down to a science.
But the problem with science? One misstep and everything blows up.
I hear voices over the spray.
Declan’s booming laugh. Ward’s smooth drawl. A couple others joining in.
And then Elias. His voice is quieter, but it cuts through everything.
“Where’s Hale?”
My heart leaps.
“He’s hiding in the corner like a prude,” Declan answers, snorting. “Probably afraid of soap.”
“Or maybe,” Ward says lazily, “he’s just got something to hide.”
I freeze.
The words are casual, almost joking—but I can feel them sink claws into my spine.
Something to hide.
Do they know?
Footsteps echo closer. Too close.
I press against the wall of my stall, water pounding my back, praying they don’t come near.
The curtain whips open.
I nearly scream.
But it’s not Ward. Not Declan. It’s Elias.
He stares at me through the steam, water dripping down his jaw, his towel slung low on his hips. Calm. Too calm.
My chest locks tight.
“What are you doing?” I snap, clutching the curtain closed against him.
“Making sure you don’t drown in here,” he says smoothly, though his eyes flick over me once, sharp and assessing.
I yank the curtain tighter. “Privacy ring any bells?”
One brow lifts. “Privacy doesn’t exist in Dorm 9.”
The worst part? He doesn’t leave.
He lingers, leaning against the wall like he has every right to block my exit.
“You’re jumpy,” he says over the sound of water. “Every time someone looks at you too long, you flinch. Every time Ward teases you, you shut down. And now you hide in the corner, like you’re afraid someone will notice…”
His gaze cuts, piercing. “…something.”
My pulse pounds in my ears.
This is too close. Too dangerous.
If he sees even one slip—if the binder shifts wrong, if the towel isn’t high enough—everything is over.
I force a laugh, low and shaky. “Maybe I just don’t like people staring at me naked. Is that a crime?”
He doesn’t smile. “Maybe.”
The silence between us is so thick I could choke on it. Steam curls like smoke, wrapping around us both, trapping me in this corner with nowhere to run.
From the other side of the showers, Ward calls, “Cross! You babysitting Hale now?”
Declan laughs. “Maybe he needs help scrubbing his back.”
More laughter echoes, bouncing off tile.
Elias doesn’t answer. He doesn’t look away from me.
His eyes flick down, then back up, sharp as knives.
And for one terrifying second, I think he sees.
I yank the curtain tighter, heart thundering.
He leans closer, voice so low I barely hear it over the water.
“You’re lying about something,” he says. “And one day soon, I’m going to find out what.”
Then he’s gone. Just like that.
The curtain sways, water hissing, my pulse racing like I just outran death itself.
I stay under the spray until the voices fade, until the laughter moves out of the showers and back into the dorm.
When I finally step out, my towel clutched tight around me, the room is empty.
Empty, except for one thing.
On the bench where Elias had been sitting, there’s a folded piece of paper. My name scrawled on the outside.
Hale.
My hands shake as I pick it up.
Inside, only four words:
I know your secret.
My breath stops.
He knows.
Elias Cross knows.
And now?
Now it’s only a matter of time before he decides what to do with it.