I watched Juliana cool herself off in the soft breeze, stretching her arms before tugging her tank top straight.
Then she bent, picked up her leather jacket from where she'd tossed it earlier, and slung it over her shoulder while muttering something about needing a proper bath.
She looked both refreshed and tired from the practice.
And her face had already fallen back into its usual calm, polished, unbothered, and unreadable expression.
While mumbling about getting back to the camp together, she stopped me—
Or, well, tried to step past me.
Because I moved a foot in front of her and said something so unironically, stupidly unbelievable that it surprised even me, "Teach me."
The beat of silence that followed was so loud it felt like the trees flinched.
Juliana stopped mid-step.
Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, she turned her head toward me.
Her face carried the exact expression of someone who had just been ambushed by a particularly stupid request.
"…Teach you?" she repeated.
