Chapter 4 QUEEN MARABELLA ISLAND(4)

CHAPTER FOUR

March 16, 2014.

"Clara!" Anastasia and Annabelle called out, their voices growing louder as they knocked insistently on the door.

Clara was still fast asleep, barely registering the noise. Her alarm clock blared repeatedly, and her phone buzzed with incoming calls, adding to the morning chaos. Meanwhile, Mrs. White answered the landline phone in the living room. Despite the knocking, the alarm, and the calls, Clara remained deep in sleep. Her sisters continued knocking, persistently.

"Who is it?" Clara mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"Your sisters. Who else?" they replied. "Mum says you need to take your bath and come eat breakfast," Annabelle added.

"Go away," Clara muttered, rolling over and pulling the blanket over her head.

Without knocking, her mother entered the room, wearing a stern expression.

"Clara, get up! It's already 7:30 a.m.," she said firmly.

Clara slowly opened her eyes and noticed her mother's annoyed look. She rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the sleep. The seriousness in her mother's expression made her sit up.

"What's wrong, Mum?" Clara asked, her voice still heavy with sleep.

"You overslept," her mother replied. "Weren't you supposed to meet your friends at their swimming school today? And why haven't you been answering their calls?"

Clara glanced at her phone and saw several missed calls from Monica and Annalise.

"I didn't hear it," Clara shrugged.

Her mother sighed. "Get dressed and come downstairs. Breakfast is ready."

Clara swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching.

"Is everything okay, Mum?" Clara asked, noticing the tension in her mother's face.

Her mother hesitated before answering. "I keep wondering when sleeping became your priority, Clara," she said, frustration creeping into her voice.

Clara rubbed her eyes again, feeling defensive. "What's wrong, Mum? I just needed some rest."

"Rest? You've slept for nine hours! You can't keep ignoring your responsibilities. Look at me, Clara. I've been stressed out for months. I barely get any rest, and your father and I work hard to provide for you. I'm tired of your new hobby of sleeping in. I wake up early to make breakfast and keep the house running while you lie here, as if Hypnos himself has you under his spell. You're not in high school anymore. Is this the example you want to set for your younger sisters in junior high? I know you're a teenager, but I hope you grow up soon, preferably sooner rather than later."

Clara swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Mum. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll work on it."

Her mother's expression softened. "It's okay. Just remember, you're my princess, alright?"

"Yes, Mum," Clara replied quietly.

Her mother left the room, the door closing softly behind her. Clara stared at the ceiling, guilt gnawing at her. She loved her mother more than anything and hated the idea of letting her down, but lately, it felt like sleep and sluggishness were winning out. She glanced at her alarm clock 8:00 a.m. Already late.

She had promised her friends she would escort them to their early morning swim training, which had been scheduled earlier than usual out of respect for the festival. Most swimmers preferred to attend the festival of Still waters later, so practice was moved up. But lately even simple plans felt overwhelming. Stress clung to her, and those weird, restless dreams hadn't helped.

Clara dragged herself to the bathroom. The cold water on her face jolted her awake a little. After a quick shower, she threw on jeans and a hoodie, running a brush through her tangled hair. As she finished, her phone buzzed with a new message from Annalise: Hey, Clara! Where are you? Monica and I are running late.

Downstairs, her twin sisters, Anastasia and Annabelle, were already dressed in their bright festival clothes, excitement sparkling in their eyes. Their father stood by the door, keys in hand, ready to take them to the Festival, a solemn tradition celebrated every March 16th throughout Sunmere State, especially in Stormcove.

Clara turned to her mother. "Aren't you going this year?"

Her mother shook her head. "No, I don't feel like it this time."

Her mother set a plate of toast and scrambled eggs on the table.

"Eat up, Clara. You don't want to be late," her mother said, her voice gentler now.

Clara took a bite, but before she could finish, her phone buzzed again. Another message from Annalise. Clara's stomach twisted. Her friends were waiting, and she was holding them up again.

She barely managed a third bite before standing up, grabbing her bag. "Mum, I have to go. My friends are waiting for me."

Her mother gave her a look, half worried, half resigned. "Alright. Just make sure you're back before dinner and be careful."

"I will, Mum," Clara said, already heading for the door.

Clara left the house in a rush, the streets of Stormcove were unusually quiet for a Sunday morning. Lanterns hung from lampposts, and small groups of people moved slowly toward the festival grounds. The city felt calm and reflective, a stark contrast to Clara's hurried footsteps as she made her way to the park, running all the way to Harts Park where Monica and Annalise were waiting on a bench, backpacks at their feet and hair pulled back in matching ponytails. She skidded to a stop, breathless.

"Guys, I'm so sorry, please forgive me," Clara panted, catching her breath.

Monica gave her a concerned look, arms folded. "Clara, what happened? We tried calling. We were worried."

Clara ran a hand through her hair, still trying to calm down. "I overslept again. I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I just feel... off."

Annalise frowned, glancing at her watch. "We're late. Training might be over before we even get there. What are we supposed to tell Coach Humphrey?"

Clara shook her head, guilt weighing on her. "I know, I'm sorry. I haven't really been myself. I even upset my mum this morning. She's stressed out, and I didn't help at all. I feel terrible."

Annalise's expression softened. "Hey, we all messed up. Honestly, you're not alone. Last night, I actually slapped Zayan at dinner."

Monica's eyes widened. "Wait, what? Why?"

Annalise rolled her eyes. "He couldn't stop running his mouth about Skye and me. I just snapped. I've had enough of his comments, especially the gross stuff he says."

Monica grinned, nudging Annalise. "Good for you. He needed someone to put him in his place."

Clara managed a small laugh. "I really thought he'd grow out of that phase."

Annalise shook her head. "Nope. He's just gotten better at hiding it. And don't worry, Clara, I know you're over him."

Clara shrugged, a little embarrassed. "Yeah, definitely. No feelings left there from a childhood crush"

"Glad to hear it. Like they say, looks can be deceiving," Annalise said, her tone lighter now.

Monica glanced toward the street. "We should get going. Even if we're late, it's better than not showing up at all."

The three girls started walking quickly toward the Antares Aquatic Center, their conversation fading as they focused on making up for lost time.

"What are we going to tell Coach Humphrey?" Annalise asked, concern etched on her face.

Clara took a deep breath, trying to project confidence she didn't quite feel. "I'll talk to him."

"What are you going to say?" Monica pressed, her worry evident.

Clara shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "The truth."

Monica's eyebrows shot up. "The truth?"

"Yeah," Clara said, trying to sound reassuring. "He's not stupid. He knows you guys are dedicated. You're his best swimmers, and you're never late. I think he'll understand."

Annalise remained skeptical. "You really think so?"

Clara nodded, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety in her stomach. "I do. He's a good guy. He'll cut you some slack."

They started walking faster, their steps echoing on the pavement as they hurried toward the aquatic center. Monica chewed her lip, her brow furrowed.

"I wish I'd learned how to ride a bicycle," she muttered, half to herself. "This would be so much faster."

As they rounded the corner, the Antares Aquatic Arena came into view, but a sinking feeling hit Clara's stomach. The training session was clearly over. Swimmers in team antares were streaming out of the entrance, laughing and talking as they headed for the parking lot. Many of them turned to stare as Clara, Monica, and Annalise approached, their faces a mix of curiosity and judgment.

Coach Humphrey spotted them from across the pool. His sharp gaze locked onto the three girls as he strode toward them, his expression unreadable but laced with clear disappointment. He was dressed in his swimming gear, his well-built frame reflecting years of training and maintaining discipline. Clara couldn't help but notice, but she quickly shook off the thought, reminding herself why they were here in the first place.

As he reached them, his voice was firm.

"What happened? Why are you late, girls?"

Clara stepped forward before either of her friends could answer, her gaze dropping slightly in guilt.

"I'm the one at fault, sir. I'm the reason my friends missed their training," she admitted, her voice quiet but sincere.

Coach Humphrey's expression flickered for a moment-was it a surprise? Displeasure? Perhaps a mix of both. But then, his stern features softened just slightly.

"You both make sure it doesn't repeat itself," he warned.

"Yes, sir," Annalise and Monica responded in unison, their voices firm despite their lingering guilt.

The coach exhaled, folding his arms.

"You missed one of the most vital training sessions, and you're fully aware of the upcoming competition. We are just two weeks away, and I must say..." He paused, his expression serious. "You're only half-prepared."

Clara and her friends exchanged uneasy glances. The weight of those words settled on them, a reminder of just how important this competition was, not just for them, but for the entire university.

"Half-prepared?" Annalise echoed, concern lacing her tone. "What do we need to work on?"

Coach Humphrey hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Your dives are shaky, and your turns are slow, Monica. Annalise, your strokes need more power."

Monica frowned, feeling frustration bubble inside her. "We've been practicing, coach."

"I know," Coach Humphrey said with a nod, his voice calmer now. "But it's not enough. You need to focus, work together, and perfect your techniques. If you want to stand out, you can't afford to be average...you need to be exceptional."

Annalise straightened her shoulders, determination flashing in her eyes. "We won't let you down, coach. We'll do better."

Coach Humphrey studied them for a long moment before a small, approving smile broke through his usual serious expression. "I know you will. That's why I'm giving you extra sessions and repeating today's training."

The girls exchanged determined glances. This was their moment to prove that the trust placed in them was well-founded. They weren't just any first-year students; they were athletes who had earned their place through relentless hard work and countless medals. Now, it was up to them to show the university they belonged at the top.

Coach Humphrey paused, then added with a lighter tone, "By the way, congratulations on your acceptance letters. You've earned this opportunity."

"Thank you, coach!" they exclaimed in unison.

A chuckle escaped him as he nodded. "You're welcome. Now, get in the water. We have work to do."

The next week would be grueling, but failure wasn't an option and not for them, and certainly not for Coach Humphrey.