The following morning was another holiday, but the university swimming team still had training. Ethan and his friend Charlie had made the dirty habit of showing up for it.
The stands around the pool were mostly empty, as usual. In the past, Ethan would always arrive a little late so he wouldn’t look too obvious. Now he simply didn’t care if anyone thought he was a pervert.
He sat down and waited for Charlie, eyes moving across the pool deck. This time several of the girls on the team glanced his way; none of them looked disgusted, much to his pleasure.
Then he spotted Margaret. That senior girl that used to bully him during his junior year—the second their eyes met again, her cheeks went deep red. She looked away almost immediately, but the blush stayed.
Ethan found it all the more amusing; his eyes remained fixed on her, already imagining what it would feel like to fuck all that old arrogance out of her and leave her just as broken and needy as Mira.
A heavy hand clapped down on his shoulder. "Yo." Charlie dropped into the seat beside him and dabbed him up, then actually looked at him properly.
"Damn," he said, eyebrows rising. "You look way better than I remember, bro. What the hell happened to you?" he chuckled a little, surprised with Ethan’s transformation.
Ethan shrugged, "Just started taking care of myself." Charlie’s gaze didn’t falter, staring at him like he was trying to figure out the difference.
He was the same as always, thick around the middle, breathing a little heavy just from climbing the steps, wearing that same faded hoodie he never washed enough.
"Bullshit," Charlie said. "You look taller or some shit. And your face... I don’t know, man. You’re a little more spicy than I remember."
"Ay! Ay! There are enough girls around here now...careful with that talk." Ethan nudged him jokingly. Charlie chuckled. "I’m just saying, man, just saying..."
Ethan’s eyes, however, had already drifted back to the pool. Where Margaret was stretching near the starting blocks with two other girls. Every time she bent forward, the swimsuit pulled tight across her ass.
"Oh...she looks even rounder than before, huh?" Charlie said, pulling out his phone to snap a discreet photo, then zooming in on the curves of her underarm. "Goddamn...what a beast."
"Do you actually...keep tabs on them like they’re some kind of specimen?"
"Ay, you used to do that too! Don’t go calling me weird for that."
"Yeah, but sometimes, it’s better to get some action going than gooning from afar," Ethan said, his eyes never leaving her, like a predator tracking its prey, catching every slight movement, every laugh, every blush.
He could feel the atmosphere had shifted too the moment Charlie stepped inside; the girl stopped glancing at him, and the good old looks of disgust returned between every swim.
Though not particularly at him, he remains the charming prince.
Down at the pool, the coach blew the whistle. The girls started lining up. Margaret stepped onto the block, rolled her shoulders, then glanced up at the stands one last time before the starting signal.
Ethan watched her dive.
Charlie kept talking beside him, complaining about some assignment, about how his roommate still snored like a dying animal, and about how he needed to lose weight before summer.
Ethan only half-listened to him; his attention stayed on the water. And soon enough he would find himself irritated by the constant blabber.
Margaret swam well, as usual. When she pulled herself out of the pool at the end of the set, water running down her body, the swimsuit clinging to every curve, she didn’t look up at him again.
Charlie nudged him. "Broooo... Did you see that?" Ethan nodded. "I did." Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
"Why so quiet? We should be cheering for the madam!" Charlie said, to which Ethan almost blurted out "fucking incel," but barely held on to his tongue. "Just thinking," he said.
"About what?"
Ethan finally looked away from the pool. "About how easy some people are going to be." He smirked at Charlie before patting him on his stomach, which was lying in front of him, barely contained in his tight shirt.
He stood up, stretched, and glanced down at the pool deck one more time. Margaret was toweling off now, talking to one of the other girls, but her eyes flicked up toward him for half a second before she forced them away again.
He smirked to himself. Charlie stood up behind him, confused. "Are you leaving already?"
"Yeah. Got something to handle."
He started down the steps. Behind him, Charlie called out something about meeting later, but Ethan was already done with the conversation. He knew he had to set his gooner friend aside.
He sat outside on a bench in the campus park waiting for Margaret to finish her chatter with her friends, already impatient and aroused enough beyond need. He checked his phone briefly, where he found several notifications from both Mira and Clara.
No need for distractions now; his eyes are set on a new target.
Margaret eventually split off from the other two girls near the entrance of the swimming hall. She had a towel draped over her shoulders and a duffel bag hanging off one arm. Her hair was still damp, stuck to the sides of her neck.
"Oh...that’s a choice," he muttered to himself; she hasn’t changed yet. And presumably decided to delay it to the comfort of her dorm room.
Ethan stood up and started walking in her direction, taking confident strides that felt previously unfamiliar. She spotted him almost immediately, but he couldn’t quite tell given the distance.
From up close, the same red flush from earlier came back immediately. She frantically adjusted the towel higher over her chest like it would somehow help.
Ethan blocked her path forward, looking at her cheeks briefly before saying, "Walking around the campus like that? Don’t you fear the wind, Seniora?"
Margaret chuckled. "Oh," she glanced at him from head to toe briefly before replying, "And what concern is that to you?"
"Just saying...not the smartest move." He remarked while narrowing the gap between them slightly, "Need someone to walk you to your private chambers, m’lady?"
Margaret covered her mouth to laugh, obviously nervous, and her towel nearly slipped, but Ethan quickly caught it for her. "Careful, gotcha," he said; she brushed his hand aside and pretended to roll her eyes.
"Jealous much?" she said. "You may come along, peasant," she played along.
Ethan bowed his head along, his smirk only deepening on his lips. "Oh...Margaret," he muttered to himself as she started moving.
They walked a bit further in silence. Every time her arm brushed against his, he felt her tensing slightly. The system interface flickered faintly at the edge of his vision, but he ignored it for now. "Not now, Eve," he muttered.
"What was that?"
"Oh, nothing, the weather’s nice, that’s all."
"Mhm," she nodded as they entered the dormitory building and started ascending the steps to her floor.
When they reached the turn that led toward the senior dorms, Margaret slowed down. "This is me," she said. pointing toward the end of the corridor. You are reading on novelping(.)com, the official source.
Ethan looked at the corridor, where a few senior students were looking at them, whispering something. His eyes returned to her. "Are you going to invite me up?"
"...Why would I?"
He stepped a little closer, just barely invading her breathing space, where she now has to tilt to maintain eye contact. "You haven’t told me to leave yet, like you used to back in the day when I would linger around during your swimming class."
Margaret’s throat moved as she swallowed. The blush is spreading down her neck now. She adjusted the towel a little, where the upper side of her cleavage was just barely visible.
Ethan’s eyes were quick to spot it, and he didn’t bother hiding the fact he was staring directly at it.
"I... need to shower," she muttered.
"Alright." He said, leaning against the lockers, still not moving.
Margaret stood there looking at him for a few moments before finally exhaling through her nose and looking off to the side.
"You’ve changed, like, a lot..." she said quietly, squinting at someone from the distance before muttering "shit."
Ethan glanced behind him slowly, his dropping almost immediately. Peter, her boyfriend, was striding towards them.
Tall, Dad Pod built, same heavy Russian accent Ethan remembered from the few times he’d overheard him in the halls.
He didn’t look pleased, his eyes moving from Margaret in her towel to Ethan standing too close, and the irritation was already clear on his face.
"What is this?" Peter asked once he got close enough, his fists clenched and ready to throw punches. Though Margaret opened her mouth, Ethan spoke first. "Just asking for directions. Looking for room 208."
Margaret glanced at him briefly, then back at Peter, hoping he’d buy it.
Peter stared at him in silence for a couple of seconds, not fully buying it. His hands slowly found Margaret’s waist, his thick fingers digging at her side.
"208 is that way," he said, jerking his chin down the opposite hall while maintaining eye contact with Ethan. If his eyes could speak, they would be giving a whole warning speech.
He turned Margaret with him and started walking her toward the other corner to Margaret’s dorm, while Ethan relaxed against the locker, his heartbeat calming down a little.
"Fucking hell," he muttered to himself. "That was close..." He turned his head towards them as they slowly disappeared from view, hoping Margaret would look back at him.
Though she didn’t, not with her head, but after a few steps, she reached down and lifted the back of her towel just slightly...
enough to show the bottom curve of her ass and the edge of her underwear. Her cheeks shifted and clapped softly with every step as Peter led her by the waist.
She let the towel drop again a moment later, giving Ethan a quick glance before they entered the dorm room.
"Thank god I didn’t fuck her," he thought to himself as he descended the staircase.