I never thought I’d see Hades again.

Not after the way things ended last summer—his voice cracking when he said he couldn’t do this anymore, the way he wouldn’t meet my eyes while he packed his swim bag like he was escaping a crime scene. We’d been circling each other for months: stolen glances in the lane next to mine, brushes of wet skin under the water that lasted half a second too long, late-night texts that started innocent and ended with both of us breathing hard into our ...