《The Tutor | LaMelo Ball》𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟼
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"Are you sure you're okay?" Jose asked while looking at me. "You seem a little tense,"
"I'm fine," I smile up at him.
"Wanna go down to the water?" Jose asked.
"Oh no, I don't swim!"
Jose stands up wiping sand off his butt.
He puts his hand out gesturing me to grab it.
I grab it.
"I don't dance but I danced for you," Jose flashes me a smirk and I don't know why but I'm blushing.
"I mean, I guess I can put my feet in!" I take off my shoes placing them on the sand next to me.
Jose's smile widens and he starts running towards the water.
I run with him and I stop at the edge of the water.
"Come on, Daya!" Jose laughs.
"I said I'd put my feet in!" I put my hands up in surrender as I put my feet in.
"Are you afraid of water or what?"
"I just don't do the ocean!"
Jose walks towards me and he grabs me by my waist.
"I don't do dancing!" Jose states while dropping me into the deeper part of the water.
I attempt to stand up in the water, but I can't.
I'm too deep in the water and I can't swim well enough.
"Jose!" I yell trying to stay calm. "I can't swim in this-"
A wave comes and crashes into me.
Jose gets moved to the side a bit because of the wave.
"Daya, hold on I'm coming!" He yells.
I swallow some water coughing a bit.
"Jo-" another wave crashes into me causing me to cough more.
I can't breathe the water just keeps on crashing into me.
Oh my goodness, this is how I die!
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I feel an arm come around me and they pull me towards what I'm assuming is the shore.
As soon as I'm able to, I gasp for air.
I feel the sand sticking to my body as they lay me on the sand.
"Dude, are you okay?" I hear Clarissa ask.
She has water dripping from her hair and her swimsuit is wet.
"I am now, thank you!"
"Jose, that wasn't a good idea!" Clarissa turns to face Jose, but he isn't there.
I sit up from the floor and I get on my feet.
"Where is he?" I asked while coughing.
"Jose?" Clarissa yells.
No answer.
"J-Jose?" I yell.
Still no answer.
I glance at Clarissa and then back at the water and then I gasp.
"Oh my god, please tell me he isn't still in there!"
Clarissa starts to run towards the water.
Jose runs out of the water and his eyes are searching for someone.
Once he spots there is a look of relief on his face.
"Daya, are you alright!" He asked while running towards me.
"I've been better, but I'm alive at least..." I trail off.
Jose's eyes get watery and he pulls me into a hug.
"That was the scariest shit that's ever happened to me!" He says while petting my head.
Jose breaks the hug and I smile at him.
"Daya!" I hear LaMelo say. "Don't scare me like that, what the fuck!"
"I didn't do it on purpose trust me,"
"I'm glad you're okay," LaMelo says.
Really? Are you really?
LaMelo glances at Jose and then back at me.
"This whole thing would've been avoided if you didn't try to hit on my girl," LaMelo shouts.
His girl? I'm not his girl!
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"Daya, isn't an object, LaMelo!" Jose shouts back. "She isn't yours!"
LaMelo steps closer to Jose.
"As my best friend you should know how I feel about her!"
Confusion....
"What if I feel the same way about her?" He asked. "I've known her longer than you! Just because you claim you like someone doesn't mean anything. You can't control who she falls for!"
"She hasn't fallen for you, retard!" LaMelo scoffs.
I blush slightly.
They are both obviously getting angry at each other.
All eyes turn to me, Jose, and LaMelo.
"Guys, you need to calm down!" Tracy says stepping in between the two of them.
"Yeah, nows not the time..." Clarissa states.
—————
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Rimward Bound
Every citizen of the sky-cities of His Majesty's Star-Empire knows that a ship, both sky- and star-, is more then just a few bits of metal. It is the grand sum of it's hull and the crew that sail it. 'Hulls of battle-steel and men to match!' That's what the Navy's recruitment poster's claim at least. Every sailor knows that there is one more component that the city-bound folk ignore at their own peril: the soul of the ship. That it takes both man and hull to make a true ship, and that neither alone serve well or for long. In 8225 Lord Jeffrye Saltonstall the Fourth, Political Lord of the Surveyor's Corps, demands semi-automated ships to 'reduce the loss of life among our brave crews', manages to convince the other politicians and bureaucrats to fund them, and gets the Office of Ship Construction to sign off on the ships as structurally sound. Dockyard workers shake their heads at the ships, muttering that they are cursed from birth, even as construction drags on. In 8230 the Explorer, first of her class, is launched. She sets out in 8233 to great fanfare on a trip expected to last six months. Neither she nor her twelve-person crew is ever heard from again. By 8235, the remaining seven Explorers are are commissioned. Lord Saltonstall managed to find crews for six of them but at the cost of mass resignations. The Night Horse, last of the Explorer class, sat in reserve as her sister-ships served well enough despite ill luck and misfortune. The Office of Ship Construction quietly issues notice that no more semi-automated ships are to be built and that all active Semi-automated ships are to be quietly retired and broken up for scrap over the next ten years. The Night Horse, sitting in reserve, is missed due to bureaucratic oversight. In 8250 Lord Ayland Wynstryngham the Eighth assumes the office of Political Lord of the Surveyor's Corps. His first act is to issue notice that no ship is to be without crew nor sit in dock or reserve for longer then required for maintenance and upkeep. The Night Horse, all but forgotten, is quietly brought back into active service. Recruiting a crew for her proves another matter entirely. What poor or desperate fool would willingly sign on to crew, much less command, a cursed ship and spend months or years in deep space? Well, you would, of course. Where else is a kid from the gutters going to find that kind of freedom in the service of His Majesty? A [participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge] 2021. Warnings: Second person is used in this work. Semi-Polished draft: Posted chapters are subject to revision as needed as things progress. Mild Profanity on occasion.
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