Bella ran into Sam, halfway to the pool Monday afternoon. The rain had set in, and they hurried under their umbrellas, the water seeming to find its way in upside down, and sideways. She felt like she'd be dryer in her swimsuit, by the time they got there.
Jun was waiting in the foyer, and waved when he saw them come in.
"Here," he said, handing them each a card.
"What's this?" Sam asked.
"Gold card," Jun smiled, and when he met confused expressions on their faces, explained, "pool passes for the year. I still have a little pull here from varsity."
"You're varsity?" Sam asked, suddenly incredulous.
"No," Jun said, "I was. Quit last year."
Sam made a low whistle.
"Yeah," Jun said, "I know. Come on, quit gawkin' and get in there. We don't get a whole lotta time."
Emmett was inside already, neck deep in the hot tub. He winked when he saw Bella walk in. She was wearing her own swimsuit, Alice's tucked away in the bottom drawer of her bureau at home.
"Alright," Jun said, "let's start with a warm up lap, and then talk strategy for the pool race portion. Go!"
Everyone took off at their own pace, Emmett, Sam and Jun speeding off, Dave and Leo following not too far behind. Bella swam doggedly. Or, more like a dog paddle, making her slow way up, and then back down the pool.
Emmett was ready to howl with laughter, but Jun caught it and shushed him. "Don't," he said, his voice a hard warning, and Emmett looked at him, a whole new level of respect grown there. "She's doing her best. We encourage each other, got it?"
Emmett put up his hands, and tilted his head in deferral. "Course coach," he said quietly.
"Nice," Jun said, when she got back, and then started proposing some strategic strokes for each person. Bella couldn't help but notice her name was absent from this list. As soon as the rest of them were off, Jun quietly pulled her aside. "You swim much before?" he asked softly.
Bella supposed it was that obvious. "No, not really," she said, feeling her cheeks redden. She was recalling Edward's attempt to teach her.
"Hey," he said, "that's OK. We're a team. We work together." He smiled at her, and she was surprised by how soft and genuine it was. In her experience, the "we're a team" talk was usually followed by a disingenuous grin, and then abandonment. She'd learned long ago to eschew such activities.
"Can I show you a few pointers?" he asked, "I don't have a lot to offer in the other areas, but swimming is my thing."
Bella squirmed a bit, imagining what other help she'd need. Probably a lot.
Jun could see her discomfort. Her face was so easy to read. "You're here and you're willing," he said, "don't feel bad about what other people can do."
She nodded, tucking away her lack of confidence.
They moved to the unroped section of the pool, which was quiet except for one parent and their small child, blowing bubbles into the water.
"You know how to do the crawl?"
She shook her head.
"OK," he said, and handed her his goggles, "use these for now," adjusting them expertly. He explained the stroke, and showed her the movement. "I'm going to get you to lay on your front, and then move your arms through it, OK? I'll hold you up while you're doing it, so we can focus on form, alright?"
Bella's stomach fluttered with nerves.
His arm easily stretched under her, straddling her hip, while his other moved her arms through the motions, checking her form. "Good," he said, "that's great. OK, now try it on your own."
She floundered through a few strokes, and he had her come back again, patiently repeating the movements until it was easier for her to coordinate them, finally, after a half hour, moving through a deliberate crawl across the pool length. She felt like her arms were about to fall off.
"OK," Jun called, "lounge when we're done, and then we can plan our next training session."
The next training session? "As in, next week?" she asked.
"No," Sam scoffed, towelling off her hair, "this is just the swimming portion. We have the relay run, and climbing sessions to do too."
Jesus. What had she got herself into?
"Don't worry Bells, you'll be Bella the buff by the time we're done with you," Sam reassured her, elbowing her congenially.
Jun watched her face blanche nervously.
"You're good," he said, walking past her to the change room, "don't let them razz you."
She nodded, and went to get changed.
When she and Sam emerged a few minutes later, Sam still trying to wring the water from her thick hair, and Jun was screwing in the last support for a strange looking chair.
"And you massage people too?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised. "Best team ever!"
"I do," Jun chuckled. "Team perk. Who's first?"
"Me!" Sam called, and sat down.
Emmett had arrived by this point, and Bella said loudly, "you're next Emmett. I signed you up."
He looked at her, but then caught her grin, and returned it, seeing Sam standing. "Ladies first, Swann."
She snorted. "I'm good."
Sam walked by, giving her upper back a good poke, "as if," she snorted, watching Bella flinch.
"Yeah," Jun said, his voice concerned, "didn't you stretch?"
"No," Bella said, "why?"
"Seriously?"
"Seriously." Bella hated stretching.
"Have a seat," he said, "if you're feeling sore now, trust me, you need this. Sit."
Bella had never had a massage before, not really. Edward had rubbed her shoulders and her back when she was tense, and the thought of recalling those memories didn't sit well. She sat down reluctantly.
"Just lean forward a bit," Jun said, and then put his hands on her back, very gently moving, touching far more lightly than she expected. Massage always seemed to look like it was about tenderizing someone, the way she took a meat mallet to cheap steak.
"So," he said, "I'll give you my standard disclaimer. I'm not qualified to do this therapeutically, but I know enough what to touch, and what to leave alone. If it hurts more than your standard bruise, tell me, 'K?"
"Sure," she mumbled into the face rest. "I thought massages were supposed to feel good—not hurt."
"The useless ones do, but the ones that actually help always have a bit of an ouch to them. You can't do any good without releasing things."
"Jeez," Jun muttered, "do you ever stretch?"
"No," Bella replied, feeling things loosen.
He placed one finger at the base of her skull, and the other just under the jointure of her shoulder and arm.
"Whoa!" she exclaimed, feeling a pressure she hadn't realized she'd carried, melting. "How did you—?"
"Magic hands," Jun said. She could hear the grin. "A little bit of anatomical knowledge goes a long way. Pressure points," he explained.
He didn't work for long, but she felt lighter—looser—by the time he was done.
"Thank you," she said, her voice grave with sincerity. "You're amazing."
"And you," he said, "are strung like a piano. You should really stretch next time."
She snorted out a small breath. Her coordination was poor enough that she figured tight muscles were about all that was keeping her from constantly falling over.
They hammered out the rest of their schedule. Practises were three times a week. One at the track, one in the pool, and one in the climbing gym. Sam was right. They would be buff by the time the year was done.
Sam headed off to meet friends for coffee.
"I'm off," Emmett called, "see you for running," he grinned at Bella, lips wicked, and wide.
Bella swallowed, imagining what Edward would see in his brother's thoughts.
"Keep it to yourself," she muttered to him, as he pulled her into a hug on his way out the door.
"Notice how I'm not hovering," he said softly, "some of us know how to respect the people we love."
She smiled, a true and genuine stretch across her face. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I appreciate it. Just...keep my humiliation private, OK?"
He grinned, asking "want a ride home?"
"No, thanks," she said.
Emmett nodded, waving and walking away. He wasn't one to ask twice.
"You got something against driving?" Jun asked, hearing this soft exchange, packing up his chair.
"No," Bella said, "Library's easier to walk to, than drive."
"Ah, Main?"
"Of course," she said. The building itself was stunning, a large and airy glass construction, its wings freshly stocked with things that wanted reading. She'd only had a little bit of time to explore it, and had promised herself some treats from its large collections of eighteenth century writers.
"You can't have a paper due yet, can you?" Jun asked, tucking the heavy wooden chair under his arm. He made it look light.
Did everyone have to be so fit?
"No, not yet, but perusing the shelves is my reward for tonight."
"Reading in the library is your reward?" Jun's voice was incredulous.
"Not a reader?"
"Only when I have to be," he smiled. "I'm actually heading there for a research project. Walk with you?"
"Sure," Bella said, following him to his car, where he stowed the chair in the boot. "What research project?"
"Anatomy class," he said, not elaborating. "What're you looking for?"
"Jane Austen and friends."
He shook his head, eyebrows up, mouthing "wow." He finished it with a friendly grin though.
As Bella sat and ran her fingers down the spines of the books on the shelves, Jun sat with her, flipping through the ones she placed on the floor for further consideration.
"Light reading," he mumbled to himself, flipping through something called Pamela. He was wondering at her ability to make sense of it, let alone enjoy it. The next tome down was another unappealing set of pages that began with the name Tristam.
Bella was lost in the liquidity of words before her. The slow burn growing in her upper arms was becoming more insistent, fuelled by the weight of the book she was holding.
"That good?" Jun asked.
"Sorry," she said, looking up, almost having forgotten that he was with her.
"No," he said, "don't apologize, I'm horning in on your reward time." He slid the book from the now lowest portion of the pile out. "What's this one about?"
"Oh, Pamela," she said, blushing a bit, remembering the recommendation. "It's about a servant girl who, er,...fends off her less than virtuous boss. He finally sees the error of his ways, and proposes marriage."
"Fends off?" Jun asked.
"He tries to seduce her. Then he tries to...assault her—"
Jun's eyebrows shot up. Bella's blush deepend.
"It's considered a classic," Bella said. "Trust me, not reading it for relationship advice."
"Good," Jun said, eyeing the books suspiciously, and nodding. "Because...wow. That's...something."
"I know." She said, picking them up.
Jun stood, stretching his arms up above him. Looking up from where she was sitting, he seemed more giant than human. "I should go grab a book," he said, "but if you want company, or," he looked at the pile beside her, suggesting practically, "an extra set of arms to carry those." She was going to be sore for the next while. She just didn't know it yet. Such an odd choice to make to go for intramurals. She clearly wasn't athletic, not that he minded.
She was interesting.
Bella was shifting her shoulders back a bit. Help would be nice, feeling the growing discomfort at her back, and she didn't want to put any of literary gems back. "Help carrying these would be great, actually," she said, "I'm done collecting. I'll come with you."
Jun picked up the larger set of books. His own choice was quick, selecting a large, and well used book from the shelves.
"Figured you'd have a copy of that already," Bella said, watching him check it out, as she did hers.
"I do," he said, "somewhere, just haven't found it from unpacking it yet. Wanted to double check a few things."
"What made you want to study kinesiology?" she asked, knowing the answer from their trivia game, but not why.
"Oh," he said, "that's easy. Not teaching or massage therapy."
"Parents that pushy?" Bella asked lightly. Hers weren't, but she'd seen it enough with friends.
He laughed. It was an easy sound. "You have no idea. I don't just have Korean parents. I have hardcore Christian, Korean parents." He said this with a precise emphasis, as if she should know what this meant.
"Afraid you're going to have to unpack that for me," she said, tripping over a lip in the concrete. She almost caught herself, but Jun's reflexes saved her a nasty fall. He didn't say anything, and she was grateful. They kept walking.
"Not a creature you've encountered?" he observed. "Well," he explained, "I'm sure you can imagine enough of what the hardcore Christian thing means, but the Korean ingredient. That's special."
Bella's eyebrows went up at this implied depreciation, but she listened.
"Planned career path. Arranged marriage. Living with your parents and grandparents. Whole nine yards."
"And you're the rebel against it all?" Bella asked.
"No," he said. His voice dropped a bit. "I love them. I wouldn't rebel against all of it." He turned to her and smiled, just a little slyly. "I'll make my own career path, but I don't think I can avoid the other things, not unless I want to completely break with my family. It's also just part and parcel of being an eldest son."
"You an only child?"
"No," he said, "two totally annoying younger siblings. One brother. One sister. You?"
"Just me," she said. "Parents realized the whole marriage thing was not working. Split by the time I was one."
"Wow," Jun said, whistling, "talk about calling it early."
Bella blushed.
"No, no!" He said, "I think that's a good thing. People shouldn't stay together when things aren't working. Too many people do." His face folded a bit at this point, the suggestion of a frown forming.
Bella wondered if his parents fell into this category, but didn't ask.
They were almost back to the pool.
"OK," Jun said, "you want to sacrifice your working arms for the rest of the week and carry these back to your dorm by yourself, or can I offer you a ride in my chariot?" He had stopped by his car, a well loved and ancient volvo. "Bucket of rust that it is," he added.
"Oh," Bella said, a stab of sympathy forming, "don't. I love old cars. They have character."
"You like old cars?"
"Prior relationship with one," she quipped. "Ended by an untimely death." She sighed dramatically.
She had climbed in by this point, and was noting its tidy appearance. Not pristine by any measure, but clean. He took care of things. He, she noted with pleasure, also drove at a nice, normal, human pace.
"Speaking of relationships, your boyfriend seems pretty low key."
"My boyfriend?" Bella asked, eyebrows pushed together quizzically.
"Emmett," he said, shoulder checking.
It was utter artifice. He knew Emmett wasn't her boyfriend. Could read the body language clearly enough.
"No," Bella said, shaking her head, stealing a glance at him. "He's...more like a brother."
"Oh," Jun said. "Sorry, he's just always around...I thought—"
"Yeah. He's um, my...ex's brother."
"Ah."
He didn't press further, but let the conversation subside. It wasn't uncomfortable, just quiet. He drove on smoothly, as if these discoveries meant nothing.
How different from so many of the other rides she'd experienced of late.
"Thanks," she said when he pulled up in front of her dorm.
"Totally welcome," he said, looking at her directly, as if he was contemplating something. Bella was starting to open the car door when he asked, "you busy tomorrow afternoon?"
Many, different reasons for this question flitted through her mind. Some were flattering. Some were less so.
She didn't say anything, thinking about her afternoon.
"Just asking, because I think you have lots of potential, but you could use some pointers with your swimming."
Ah. The non-flattering reasons.
She blushed, but smiled too. "No surprise there."
"Don't get the wrong idea," he said, seeing her reaction. "I mean it. You need some pointers. Some practise. I see huge potential."
His voice, and face matched in their sincerity, and she let her eyes linger on him. "Sure," she said. "When were you thinking?"
"Lunch-time?"
"No go," she said, "long-standing date."
"Oh," he said, his eyebrows moving up infinitesimally.
"No," she said, "nothing like that. Just a...friend." She blushed, feeling she'd over explained. And lied. All at the same time.
Jun ignored it. "How about four then?"
"That works, sure. Same place?"
"Yep," he said, "see you then."
She stepped out, books tucked against her chest, trying to shelter them from the fine mizzle that had started. Once inside, she set them down on her desk, along with her keys and phone. Shedding her jacket, she flopped into bed, wincing as her back met the mattress. She was sore.
A buzz from the desk made her get up again, and her heart skipped a beat, seeing who the message was from: Still on for tomorrow? Same time and place?
Yes, she typed back.
His reply was immediate: can I give you a ride there?
No, Bella thought. If she opened that door, the time would expand, and the event grow. No, she needed to keep her boundaries clear.
No thanks, she sent back as quickly as she could, and then put her phone away, exchanging it for one of her new books.
Jun had reached home himself, leaving his book in the car. He had no need of it, beyond the pretense it had already served.
"...gives me the creeps," Leo was saying, shaking his head.
"What does?" Jun asked, tossing his keys in the bowl by the door.
"That Emmett dude," Dave answered. "Built like a frickin' tank, for sure—but when he smiles—yikes."
Jun shrugged. Emmett seemed OK. Despite the creepy smile.
"Sam though," Leo said, "wow."
Jun pointed a finger at him. "Don't mess with my team man. Remember Robin, last year? No repeats on that."
"I learned," Leo said innocently. "I'll be good. Wait, unless—you aren't—?"
"No," Jun said, pulling a tub of leftovers out of the fridge, "just...don't want any drama, 'K?"
"You're one to talk," Dave said, almost under his breath.
"How so?" Jun asked, frowning, as he sniffed the tupperware's contents. It seemed to smell OK. He spooned some of it into a bowl, and stuck it in the microwave, uncovered. It splattered, and popped as it heated, while Dave looked at him.
"You're so into Bella, it isn't funny."
Jun gave him a full serving of arched eyebrow, and then rolled his eyes. "Hardly."
"Sure," Dave said, walking away. "Whatever."
Leo was packing his backpack, getting ready for his night class. "See you girls later," he called, sashaying his hips, heading out the door.
Jun frowned. He wasn't interested...she was pretty, sure. Interesting, sure. Not athletic, but willing to try...he stopped this train of thought. Fair enough. He was marginally interested. He still wasn't going to let that interfere with winning the competition, though.
No way.
Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.