[ Rain's POV ]
"Um, can you help my friend? She says she feels nauseated."
"Hey! Rain?" Michael's voice acted like a splash of cold water, waking me from my frozen state. I couldn't stop staring at the girl standing in front of our booth.
Athena.
She looked up, her eyes widening slightly as she heard my name. "Rain... It's you."
Her soft, weak voice echoed in my ears, bringing with it a tidal wave of conflicting emotions: worry, a sharp flashback of that night, and a heavy weight of regret.
"Sit here first," Sean said, stepping in to assist her while I remained paralyzed. He looked at me, sensing my hesitation. "Rain? Check on her first. I'm going to go get the medical kit."
"Okay," I managed to whisper. I nodded robotically, forcing my legs to move.
I stepped closer to the girl who had once been the center of the storm between me and Fran. My hands were trembling so badly I had to tuck them into my pockets for a second to steady them.
"Athena," I said her name softly, testing the bitter weight of it.
"Rain... I didn't think I'd see you here," she whispered. She looked even more fragile than I remembered. Her skin was pale and slightly damp—classic signs of heat exhaustion.
"Don't talk. Just breathe," I said, trying to find my professional voice. I reached out and took her wrist to check her pulse. My skin crawled at the contact, but I forced myself to focus on the steady thump-thump beneath my fingers. Her pulse was fast and weak.
"Michael, get a cold compress from the cooler," I directed, not looking away from her. "And a bottle of water. She's dehydrated."
I pulled a small bottle of eucalyptus oil from my pocket. I put a drop on a clean cotton ball. "Inhale this slowly," I told her, holding it near her nose.
As she leaned in to breathe the scent, she looked directly into my eyes. "Is Fran here?" she asked, her voice barely audible. "I saw the Engineering jersey... I thought maybe..."
She didn't finish her sentence. Suddenly, the field erupted in a chaotic, concerned roar.
I whipped my head toward the noise and my heart stopped. Fran was on the ground, clutching his foot, his face twisted in a grimace of pain. I stood up immediately, the medical supplies forgotten, and rushed toward the field.
"Rain, wait!" Athena shouted after me, but I ignored her. I didn't hear her. I didn't hear anything but the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears. Fran was injured.
I reached him in seconds, kneeling in the hot dust of the pitch. "Are you okay, Fran? Let me see."
I reached out to check his foot, my instincts screaming to protect him, to fix whatever was hurting. But the moment my hand brushed his skin, Fran froze. He didn't look at his injury. He looked at me with a gaze so sharp and piercing it felt like it was carving through my heart.
Before I could speak, he violently shoved my hand away.
The force of the rejection was so sudden it almost knocked me over. He struggled to his feet, ignoring the hands of his teammates who tried to help.
"Don't," he hissed, the word laced with a dark, unfiltered fury.
He didn't say another word. He just turned and began to limp away on one foot, his jaw set in a hard, stubborn line. His teammates followed him, leaving me kneeling alone in the middle of the soccer field as the crowd looked on in confused silence.
What's wrong with him? Did I do something again?
The confusion burned in my chest until I looked back at the booth. There, sitting in the shade, was Athena. She was watching us, her expression unreadable.
The realization hit me like a physical blow. Fran hadn't just seen me. He had seen me holding her hand. To him, my "first aid" looked like I was choosing her all over again.