"The Regional Olympics are starting next week. Why don't we see who can win the most medals? The one who wins will have the authority to make the other person do whatever they want," Ronda proposed, smirking as she crossed her arms.
Travis matched her smirk with one of his own, leaning casually against the tiled wall. "Well, that sounds great. Now, are you going to take a shower or just stay underneath one while we speak?" he teased.
Ronda blinked, realizing the awkwardness of standing half-ready in front of him. Heat rose to her cheeks—not from the steam, but from the situation.
Without another word, she shifted to the side and turned the faucet on, the water rushing down in a steady stream. She let the spray wash over her as she slowly undressed, revealing the physique she had worked years to build.
Her muscles were defined but not bulky, her stomach taut, arms strong. Yet despite her athleticism, there was a natural curve to her hips, and the way her toned ass moved with each step carried a quiet sensuality.
Travis's eyes trailed over her, taking in every detail. He tried to remain composed, but couldn't help the way his lips curved slightly in appreciation.
"I'm not that hot like any of the girls here," Ronda murmured, almost absentmindedly, her voice carrying a mix of modesty and insecurity.
"Oh, I beg to differ," Travis replied smoothly, his gaze steady and unflinching.
Ronda turned toward him, brow slightly furrowed, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Really? You think so?"
"Yeah," Travis said with certainty, his tone gentle but firm. "Look at you. You're beautiful. And that body…" He let his eyes roam over her figure before locking back onto hers.
' I can't say more or I'll get punished again' he thought as he glanced at her affection.
『12%』
' Not bad really, ' he thought.
Ronda chuckled, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the faint grin tugging at her lips. "You don't old back, do you?" She shook her head, water droplets flying from her hair.
"Well, I'll take the compliment." She continued.
Her eyes flicked downward and back up in a single quick motion, and Travis caught it instantly.
He grinned, leaning just a little closer, voice dropping to a playful murmur. " I'm just being honest is all"
The confidence in his words was convincing, but deep down he knew the truth—he had never so much as touched a pussy. Not once.
The thought almost made him laugh at himself. ' Fake it till you make it, I guess, he thought.' He thought.
Ronda raised an eyebrow, her smirk returning. "We'll have to see about that." She tilted her head, shifting the subject without losing the edge in her tone. "Also, you should come over to the pool sometime. It's a great place to test your stamina."
"Sure," Travis replied without hesitation. "I'll come by. Probably on the weekend." His grin widened, sharp and challenging. "I just wonder if you'll regret telling me this when you lose."
"I don't think I will," she shot back immediately, water dripping down her shoulders as she crossed her arms again. "Because I'll be the one winning." Her determination burned in her eyes, a flame that matched his.
"I guess we'll have to see about that."
For a moment, silence hung between them—not uncomfortable, but charged, like a pause before the next move in a chess game.
Sharing similar interests and competitiveness definitely drew them closer, but Travis knew it was dangerous to keep their bond tied only to rivalry. That kind of connection could fizzle out as quickly as it sparked.
' Alright… if I want this to last, I've gotta switch it up,' he thought, glancing at her thoughtfully.
Something that's not just about sports, not just about competition. Something that'll catch her off guard and keep her thinking about me.
He let the idea roll around in his head, carefully deciding which direction to take their conversation next.
...
They exited the showers, water still dripping from their hair, and an awkward silence trailed between them like a third shadow.
Travis's mind churned with thoughts about how to balance the growing weight of his powers, expectations, and the constant attention he was starting to receive.
Meanwhile, Ronda's head was caught somewhere else entirely—she replayed every word, every glance they had exchanged inside the showers, wondering how she could get closer to him without losing her edge.
In many ways, their thoughts were strangely aligned: both plotting, both curious, both hiding pieces of themselves.
By the time they arrived at their History class, they were late. The door creaked open, drawing a few stares. Normally, this would have earned them sharp words from the teacher, but someone—Travis wasn't even sure who—spoke up and vouched for them, and just like that, the tension diffused. No reprimand, just a pass.
Travis sank into his seat, stretching slightly before leaning back, trying to look unbothered. That was when he noticed Eve, her smile aimed directly at him. Soft, warm, and almost too sweet for the classroom's dull atmosphere.
She broke the silence first.
"How was track?" she asked, her voice casual but laced with genuine curiosity.
He shrugged with deliberate nonchalance, though the spark of pride was impossible to hide. "Easy. Working out made things easier for me." His confidence slipped out in the way he said it, steady and assured.
Eve nodded, her expression brightening. "When do you think you'll pull up today?"
"Umm, not sure." He paused, thinking it over. "How about nine?" He tilted his head toward her slightly, eyes flicking to hers, reading her reaction.
"That's cool!" she said almost instantly. "I'll still be out at that time, probably drawing or something. I have so many things to tell you; I can't wait, to be honest." Her excitement carried through her tone, each word tumbling out like she had been holding it in all morning.
Travis allowed himself a grin. "Yeah, me too." He wasn't lying—something about her energy was contagious, pulling him in despite himself.
The period dragged on, filled with the monotony of timelines, wars, and historical names. Neither Travis nor Ronda particularly cared for it, though Travis noticed how Eve's focus never wavered, pen scratching neatly across her notebook.
When the bell finally rang, the relief in the room was almost palpable. Books shut, chairs scraped back, and students funneled into the hallway toward their next class.
Music. A double period.
Travis suddenly froze mid-step, a thought slamming into him.
' Damn. I forgot to order the keyboard yesterday.' The realization hit like a gut punch.
He would need to come up with some excuse before Ms. DeWitt asked about it. Thankfully, she had a reputation for patience and forgiveness—two qualities he hoped would work in his favor today.
The session went smoothly enough, filled with humming melodies and discussions about composers, scales, and theory. He slipped by without being cornered about the keyboard, his relief silent but heavy.
By the time the bell chimed again, signaling the end of the double block, Travis stretched his arms and yawned. He pushed out of the room and headed down the hall toward Science.
He barely made it to the doorway before Ms. Okita intercepted him, her presence sharp yet calm. "Travis, it's time for one of my experiments. I need your help with something, okay? First, go get your gear. Then we'll start."
Travis blinked, suppressing the groan that nearly escaped his throat. "Can we do this tomorrow? I'm pretty busy today and have zero time to do any experiments," he said, trying to sound both polite and overbooked.
It wasn't that he disliked experiments—it was the timing. He had enough on his plate already. Still, he knew the truth: if he kept dodging everything, he'd stall his own story. And if nothing happens, then what? Just a boring cycle of class, eat, train, repeat?
Ms. Okita studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowing, then softening. She sighed, her voice calm. "Okay, we'll start the experiments next week."
"For real? Thanks, Ms. Okita, you're the best!" Travis said, maybe a little too enthusiastically.
She offered him the faintest smile before turning back into the classroom. He followed, slipping into his seat as the class transitioned into a research session on frogs—their anatomy, their biology, their quirks.
But as his pen tapped idly against his notebook, Travis's thoughts drifted.
' I think i should ask Judith out, ' he thought.
TO BE CONTINUED