6 - A "quiet" Sunday at the SPA
A week has passed since the night at the factory with Clare. The Crystalbringer radar didn't survive the explosion, leaving us empty-handed. The idea of such a tool shook us, and none of us feel safe anymore.
By morning, my thigh wound had healed, but Clare's words linger: «How can you be so weak?» They echo in my mind. Am I that weak? I don't want to drag my team down. Worse, what if I face the Black Jackets alone? I survived because Clare was there. Her strength crushed our attackers. Without her? I'd be dead. No, I can't let that happen.
That's why I decided to join a gym. It might sound silly, but lifting weights feels like a start. If I can't get strong overnight, I'll do it step by step.
Sunday is here—a day for fun and relaxation. Brianne planned a spa day and invited all five of us from the student council, but two bailed. Gin LeBlanche claimed he had «neither the time nor the desire.» Elaine snapped, «I'd rather become a nun than let Ren see me in a swimsuit!»
One unexpected person joined: Eirik Norviel. Sundays are sacred for his gaming or football, but when he heard about my plans, he panicked. Threats, begging, and pleas. Why? Simple—Brianne and Clare, his eternal crushes. Spending the day with them in swimsuits makes my palms sweat—not for their safety, but his. Clare's fury is terrifying, and Brianne's can't be far behind.
«I can't believe I'm about to see Clare and Brianne in swimsuits!» Eirik bounces like a kid on Christmas morning. «Firm asses, perfect boobs... I'll see it all!» he whispers, his excitement anything but subtle. We wait outside the women's locker room. Women of all ages pass by—some glance at us, others ignore us. Normally, Eirik would ogle everyone, but today he's laser-focused.
And then it happens. The locker room door swings open, and the goddesses emerge. Brianne steps out first, her dark blue one-piece elegant and understated, perfectly hugging her toned figure. Then Clare appears. Her "bikini"—if it can be called that—is two tiny yellow scraps of fabric. With each step, her chest bounces, defying physics and those strained straps. Eirik's eyes bulge, and his tongue might as well unroll like in a cartoon.
«This... this is unreal!» he whispers, voice trembling. «They're the most beautiful girls in the world! I'd sell my soul for one night with them!»
I glance nervously at Brianne and Clare, but luckily, they're too far to hear.
«So, little Ren. How do I look?» Clare asks, spinning playfully, her bikini bottom vanishing between her perfect curves. Outside, I hold a straight face, but inside I'm Eirik 2.0.
«T-T-That looks great on you,» I stammer, my cheeks burning. She grins, hands on her hips. «I'm killing it, huh? This morning, I saw a woman enter your building—insanely hot. Like, too hot! A total bombshell! Even I'd flirt with her!» Her tone is admiring, not jealous.
No need to guess—she means Miss Isabelle Lazar. Who could blame her?
Clare's words send my brain into overdrive, creating a vivid—and totally inappropriate—image of her and Miss Lazar together. My imagination spirals.
Thankfully, we sink into the warm embrace of the thermal baths. The heat seeps into my muscles, relaxing everything—except my rebellious brain, which flashes back to Clare and Isabelle.
What surprises me most is Eirik's silence. Since Clare and Brianne appeared, he hasn't spoken a word. It's a miracle. I expected lewd comments to ruin the mood, but he's quiet as a monk. Not surprising—I gave him a stern lecture. «Act like a maniac, and this is the last time I take you anywhere!» I must've said it a hundred times.
«So, how long have you and Ren known each other?» Brianne asks, turning to Eirik, likely to involve him. Eirik's face turns tomato red, and the water might as well start boiling.
«Well, uh...» he stammers, barely audible. «Since kindergarten. About ten years.» As he talks about our childhood, his voice steadies. Soon, Clare and Brianne hang on his every word. For the first time, their attention is on him, and honestly? He's doing great. For the next half hour, they bombard him with questions about the 'good old days,' and Eirik slowly regains his confidence. «Oh, and there was this one time Ren kicked a ball and broke the glass of the—»
«This is for adults, not some kiddie pool,» interrupts an arrogant voice behind Eirik. Two men, mid-twenties or older, stand there. Their gym-toned muscles and overly bronzed skin scream 'spray tan'. They look like copies, only their hair color—one dark, one blond—sets them apart.
«Why don't you let the kids splash and join us instead?» The dark-haired one smirks, his gaze shamelessly fixed on Brianne and Clare.
Clare tilts her head, giving him a quick once-over, her expression amused yet unimpressed. «You're kind of hot,» she admits with a shrug. «But you treated my little Ren like trash, so no.»
«Clare…» Brianne murmurs, exasperated. With her usual poise, she turns to the guys. «I'll pass on your offer. Have a nice day.»
«You're seriously saying you'd stick with these kids—what, still cutting their baby teeth—over us?!» the blond one snaps, his voice rising in frustration.
Clare narrows her eyes, clearly done. «Brianne asked you politely to leave,» she says, her tone razor-sharp. «If I were you, I'd listen—because unlike her, my patience runs out fast.»
Clare is... hot? Yeah, definitely. But not just in that way—literally. Her bottom presses against my thigh, and it feels like sitting next to an open flame. Her body radiates heat like a furnace, growing stronger. Damn it, Clare's pissed. She's like a volcano ready to erupt, and if she does, those two idiots will end up crispy. Thankfully, Brianne steps in with a single glance, her calm presence cooling Clare before she explodes.
The blond guy doesn't handle rejection well. Humiliation twists his face, and suddenly he lunges forward, grabbing Eirik by his curly, carrot-colored hair and yanking him out of the Jacuzzi with alarming strength.
«Let me go! Please, let me go!» Eirik cries, his voice cracking, tears filling his eyes. He flails helplessly, struggling to break free, but the blond guy's grip doesn't relent. His shrill pleas echo, desperate for someone—anyone—to intervene. But no one dares.
This part of the spa is quiet by design, and the few adults passing cast nervous glances before walking away. Maybe it's the size and aggression of the two guys, or they just don't want to get involved. Clare and Brianne's words have no effect—let's be honest, what fear can two girls instill in muscle-bound jerks? Without their crystals, Clare and Brianne are ordinary. And Brianne's rule is strict: no powers in public.
But I can't just watch Eirik get treated like that! Before I realize, I'm moving. Adrenaline surges as I leap out of the Jacuzzi and charge at the blond guy, my shoulder slamming into his torso like a battering ram. I swear I didn't mean to hit him so hard, but the impact sends him flying. He crashes onto the wet tiles, his head hitting the ground with a sickening thud. Everything freezes. Then, blood—dark, shiny, pooling under his head, more trickling from his mouth.
My stomach drops. I freeze, hands trembling as panic sets in. What… what did I just do? I've only been going to the gym for a week! How did my strength spike like this? The horrifying thought creeps in—what if I've seriously hurt him? Or worse… what if he's dead? A cold shiver runs down my spine.
Thankfully, the blond guy is alive. He clutches his head, muttering curses while his friend scrambles for a towel to press against the wound.
«You little bastard! I'll kill you!» the dark-haired guy growls, his face twisting with rage as he moves to pounce. Salvation comes from an unexpected voice.
«What's going on here?!»
A man in uniform steps forward. His annoyed expression and authoritative stance make it clear he's a spa employee. Finally, someone noticed. Eirik's frantic screams must have worked.
«N-Nothing...» the blond guy mumbles weakly. «I... slipped and hit my head.»
Wait, what? Why is he covering for me? Maybe he's too embarrassed to admit a smaller, younger guy took him down.
The employee's expression shifts from suspicious to furious as he narrows his eyes at the two men. «What are you two doing here again? I've told you a thousand times—you're banned! Don't ever show your faces here again!»
That explains a lot. Their creepy behavior toward Clare and Brianne must be a pattern if they've been kicked out before.
«You!» the employee snaps at the blond guy. «Come to the infirmary. And you—» he points at the dark-haired one, «get out. If I see you again, I'll call the police.»
Crisis averted, right? Wrong. I feel Brianne's gaze burning into the back of my head. When I finally meet her eyes, they're sharp, cold, and more terrifying than the muscle-bound bullies.
«Ren,» she says, her voice icy as she steps out of the water. «We need to talk. Now.»
I gulp. «Uh… yeah, sure…» My heart pounds like a drum. Clare warned me how scary Brianne can get when angry, and I hope this isn't one of those times. Brianne grabs my wrist—not gently or kindly, as she usually does. Her grip is firm, unyielding, as she drags me into a small sauna. She pushes me onto the wooden bench and stands over me, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
I can't meet her gaze. My head lowers, and I feel smaller with each second.
«S-Sorry, Brianne. You told me not to use my strength in public, but when those two messed with Eirik, I—»
Slap. The sound cuts through the air like a whip, and my cheek burns. But the pain isn't what hurts most. It's her face when I glance up—tears streak her cheeks. I've never seen her cry before, and it hits like a gut punch.
«You're so stupid, Ren! So stupid!» she yells, her voice trembling. Then it softens, though her tears don't stop. «That night with Clare—you saw what the Black Jackets can do! They don't hesitate to hurt anyone, even kids!» Her tone drops to a whisper. She steps closer and pulls me into a tight hug. «Those bastards took the most precious thing in my life. I won't let it happen again!»
This must be what Clare hinted at that night. Clare said Brianne would tell me when ready—maybe, when she trusts me enough.
After her outburst, Brianne seems calmer. Her tears are gone, replaced by sweat from the sauna. She sits beside me, legs pressed together, and motions for me to rest my head on her towel-covered thighs. Naturally, I obey.
Her fingers slide into my hair, gently massaging my scalp. It feels... incredible. I've never felt this relaxed. Her thighs are soft, her touch soothing—I could fall asleep right now. Any other guy might get turned on but this feels different—deeper. Brianne's sweetness and care feel more like the affection of an older sister.