Survival Of The Fittest

It seemed fairly simple at the time. Swimming for exercise seemed very simple, especially in comparison to the weightlifting routine. Lara knew all of the ins and outs of how to lift weights, what kind of lifts to do to exercise certain parts, how to properly schedule which weights needed to be done on which day and in which sequence. It was reasonable to expect, then, that swimming functioned in the same way to someone who was experienced with the activity.

Unfortunately, Lara suffered a rare lapse in judgement. As a consequence, she was doubled over, hands clutching her knees as she puffed in an unforeseen exhaustion. While yes, she had expected to be tired after swimming, she hadn't expected to tire out this quickly and this badly. Perhaps it was because swimming worked different muscles than she was used to. Perhaps it was because she did not know the minutiae of swimming and the most energy efficient ways to swim. The causes weren't particularly important now. Lara could individually consider them later. What mattered now was getting rid of the fatigue in her muscles to keep this exercise session going. She refused to lose a day simply because she wanted to branch out and try something new.

Her eyes scanned almost disbelievingly from her feet to the other end of the swimming pool. It didn't seem terribly long. How could it really be that long? But her to her body, that length seemed almost unending. A simple swim to the end and back ended up sapping her energy and make her legs quiver like leaves in the wind. Obviously she had done something wrong.

Lara lowered her head, her soaked hair flopping down with an audible slickness. She huffed again. Despite the fact that she'd just emerged from the water, a drink sounded fairly enticing.

If one were asked to describe Evie McKown, the adjective "graceful" wouldn't top the list. It probably wouldn't even make top ten. Charming, maybe. Endearingly awkward, at times. But hardly graceful. Unless, of course, she was in the water.

Otter Mode wasn't just a dorky catchphrase for her, it was a fairly accurate assessment of her in her domain. She glided through the chlorinated depths with the grace, speed, and power of a river otter; streamlined and aquadynamic. Halfway into her usual exercise routine, she hadn't really noticed Lara entering the pool after her. Other swimmers didn't really register on her radar, she wasn't in the habit of comparing herself to her peers any more, not since she'd quite comfortably established herself as the best young waterborne racer the North Shore Sharks had to offer at least. Once upon a time she'd been a little insecure, and seized on that to push herself to the top, but those days were long since past. What she did notice though, was the clearly fit and healthy young woman suddenly getting back out again. Evie wasn't entirely sure how long it had been, but drawing on what she did remember, Lara couldn't possibly have been in the pool for more than a handful of laps, depending on how fast she was going.

So, as she reached the end of her own lap, rather than dive and turn about, she slowed to a stop and settled against the pool's edge, treading water with one hand on solid ground to steady herself.

Lara Bullock. Evie knew her, sort of. They'd crossed paths in the gym more than once, and Evie was aware the other girl was a lacrosse player and a weightlifter. In the sense that she specifically pursued lifting as a competition, that is, not the way that Evie simply incorporated some weights into her workout. She came from a farm too, which Evie had very mixed feelings on. So she tended to just avoid conversation, rather than paint herself into a corner where she'd end up saying something to drive a wedge between the two of them.

Oh, and she was really hot. Evie had spent so much of her young life around people in swimsuits as to not really consider them at all erotic as many boys her age might, but the tall, muscular figure before her certainly wore it well. Shame she couldn't look at her without the niggling thought in the back of her head as to where all that protein must've come from.

Anyway. She looked to be hurt, like she'd pulled something. So, feeling a tad small by comparison - Lara was already maybe an inch or two taller than her anyway, and here she was with her head at about ankle-height - she looked up and asked simply: "You alright? Look like you need a massage or something."

A small toke of adrenaline shot through her body when she heard a voice directly address her. Lara hadn't expected that at all. Her eyes darted over to the source of the voice: Evie McKown. She recognized Evie, but she would not claim to know her. She had seen her at the gym before, and she knew she was a good swimmer, but that was as deep as her knowledge went.

Wait.

Evie was a good swimmer. Lara had some questions that needed answering.

"O-Oh, uh, I am alright, yes. A massage, uh, would be nice, but is not necessary," Lara responded, stumbling over her words a little bit.

She shifted around, ambling over to Evie's side before sitting down on the concrete, clutching her knees to her chest. Her eyes were still focused on the swimmer beside her.

"This is my first time coming to the swimming area to do exercise," she stated flatly. "I am afraid that I have done something incorrectly while I was exercising."

“I wasn’t offering,” Evie laughed, as much self-consciously as out of genuine humour. God, was that a blush? She looked away for a moment, fumbling to pull her goggles up onto her forehead so as to justify the movement. And because she felt a bit weird talking to someone with them on, to be fair.

“Just uh, yeah, I think you might’ve pulled something.”

She turned back towards Lara, hoisting herself up to a slightly better view with her forearms and the edge of the pool, taking in what she could of the other girl. Not the most helpful stance really, all closed off. But if she was stiff and sore, who was Evie to tell her how to sit comfortably?

But goodness, those muscles. Maybe Evie should’ve been offering that massage.

No, she could be single-closeted-and-horny later, right now she had the opportunity to be helpful, one of her favourite things to be. People liked helpful Evie.

“Where’s it hurt?”

"Oh. Where it hurts? Ah..." Lara said, unfurling herself from her little ball. She stretched her right leg out in front of her, wincing a little bit as she did so.

She pressed her fingers into the sole of her foot before dragging her fingers up her calf. Lara then pressed her fingers into her thigh, traveling all the way up her glutes to the small of her back.

"Everything that I just pressed down on doesn't feel good," Lara stated. "I think some of this may be from lacrosse practice as well, not just swimming, but the swimming most likely exacerbated it."

There was a slight tinge of embarrassment in her voice. Lara didn't particularly like her own body, much less point it out for other people to rake over. The small blush that had taken over her cheeks deepened in its intensity. She placed her hand back behind her, holding up her weight on both of her arms as she did her best to look Evie in the eyes.

"Do you know what will help this? Hopefully this won't be too much of an issue before my next lacrosse practice."

It normally wouldn’t have taken Evie long to realise how equally awkward Lara was feeling, but equal was just the problem. Evie was struggling a bit too much to not let on how very attractive she found her to put any focus on reading the other girl’s expression. So mostly she just tried to avoid her gaze and look focused and professional.

Hmm yes. The legs appear to be made out of leg.

Eventually of course, she had to look up and actually say something.

“You, uh, do a lot of running, right?”

She paused for a response, but either way her observation was the same.

“Because it sounds like you’ve maybe got tendinitis? And I guess it didn’t become obvious until you overdid it in the pool? In like, an unfamiliar way? But yeah if so, you wanna rest as much as you can, maybe put ice on it if it keeps hurting.”

Suffocating. If there was one word Lara would use to describe this encounter, it would be suffocating. She felt as if her own body heat was trying to smother her. The awkward looks the two of them shot at each other. How her one piece swimsuit, chosen for modesty, felt snug in all the wrong ways when Evie's eyes were on her. The feeling of cotton in her mouth was as pervasive as her blush.

Oh, right. Evie was giving her an impromptu examination.

"Oh, uh, yes. I do quite a bit of running for lacrosse practice." She took a pause to gulp what little saliva she had in her mouth to alleviate the dryness in her throat. She groaned in discomfort.

Lara adjusted her position, stretching her left leg out and crossing it over her right. She leaned forward, towards Evie.

"Thank you, Evie. I will go talk to a professional as well to see if they second your opinion. In the meantime, I am going to go get some ice from the machine."

Lara jerked her thumb towards the door, which led towards the rest of the building. Unfortunately for Lara, the ice machine was on the other end of the building. She hated what she was going to say next, but if she didn't want to harm her leg any more, she would have to ask.

"Evie..."

Her blush intensified.

"Um... I don't want to hurt my leg any further. Can you... come out and help me over to the ice machine?"

Jeez, was she always this stiff?

Well no, she didn't always have messed up limbs or joints or tendons or whichever ended up actually being the problem. But it struck Evie as a little odd how weirdly stilted and formal Lara was being. Sure she was always a bit awkward that way, but... maybe she was just embarrassed about being injured in such an unglamorous way? That would make sense. Who ever heard of getting into a pool and suddenly realising you'd messed up your whole entire body? Evie'd probably be a bit embarassed too.

And when Lara spoke up again, she suddenly felt a strange nervousness. Like she was expected to be able to perfectly diagnose a sports injury on the spot, and if it turned out she was found wrong by a different, better medic, she should be ashamed somehow? It passed fairly quickly, but still. Evie wanted to be right. She wanted to be helpful. Speaking of being helpful, then came the next question. She really had to go and make the completely sensible suggestion to get ice, didn't she? Imagine doing something helpful like that.

Evie nodded, and her arms came up onto the poolside. For the most part she'd stayed in the water for convenience, she'd been planning to keep on swimming after this, it just made sense. But partially, she also didn't want Lara seeing her full body. For the last God-alone-knew how many years, the pool had been Evie's domain. She'd always felt profoundly comfortable in the water. Then she'd been forced to spend a year mostly indoors, and entirely on dry land, and...

Her eyes wandered downward to the water line. She repressed a grimace, looking at her midriff. She used to extremely proud of her flat tummy and abs, well, still was proud of the latter, only they weren't quite as visible any more under the slight paunch Evie had developed over lockdown. Oh well. Drawing attention to it by acting sheepish would only make things worse. With only a barely-noticable pause for her discomfort, Evie pulled herself up out of the water and onto dry land. She gave her hair a shake, sucked her gut in a little, and stooped down to offer Lara her help in getting up.

Embarassingly, it took until that point for Evie to notice the other girl was blushing.

"Hey, nothing to be embarassed about, people get fucked up exercising all the time. The flesh is weak or whatever, right?"

"Oh, uh, yes. I suppose..."

Lara responded to Evie, but she was a little distracted by the other girl's form emerging from the shimmering pool. The defined musculature, the grace from which she exited her watery domain. Not to mention the accidental view Lara got when she stooped over to her.

After a few moments, Lara realized what she was doing and averted her eyes. Her blush furthered in its intensity when she grabbed Evie's hand. Using her hand as leverage, Lara put her weight on her left leg and hauled herself up, getting on her feet. However, when she put weight on her right leg, her ankle felt like it exploded. Lara winced.

"Kssh- fuck!" she swore, lifting her foot up off the ground. Instinctively she grabbed onto Evie's shoulder for leverage, before realizing what she'd done and letting go.

"Thank you for helping me up. I think I can-"

When Lara tried to walk away, she hissed when her foot came down, the pain shooting up her leg. She swore under her breath.

"Hnnnn," she groaned. "Evie. I hate to ask this, but... can you please help me get to the ice machine?"

She felt her pride being chipped away.

For a split second, something like a sixth sense, that vague and difficult-to-explain awareness that someone else is in a place where you thought you were alone, perked up in Evie. She could feel eyes on her, Lara's eyes, in a way that had become all too familiar since puberty set in and gave the girl even the slightest hint of feminine curves that men from 14 to 104 couldn't seem to resist an eyeful of. But it was just for a split second, barely enough for it to register in her conscious mind that hey, is she checking out my tits? before she was instead concerned first with the sudden pull of a very heavy, muscular body using her as leverage, and second with the subsequent cry of pain right next to her ear. Certainly not long enough to combine that piece of information with the profuse blushing, put two and two together and equal queer.

Nope, Evie kept right on assuming the embarrassment was 100% shame at being put out of commission by a quick swim.

To be fair to her, the injury was certainly staying front-and-centre in the moment. No sooner had the lesser weight of a standing Lara leaning on her departed, the other girl winced, hissed, said something rather colourful under her breath, and turned back for help again.

"Of course!"

She tried not to sound too cheerful about it. But in truth, it did feel good to be so useful, so relied on. She'd spent so much of her young life wanting people to like and accept her, and sure, being everyone's pleasant acquaintance was a nice sensation. But feeling needed, that was a whole new ball game. Evie liked it quite a lot.

"What're friends for, right?"

Again, she offered a shoulder.

The side benefit of having a thoroughly attractive girl quite literally on her arm sure didn't hurt either, in terms of taking a rather shameful pleasure in the whole situation.

What're friends for, right?

Were they friends? Lara wasn't sure. Evie helping her in a moment of weakness certainly seemed like a friendly move. No random stranger would've done the same. Hell, if she really thought about it, Lara might not have done the same if their positions were reversed. But Evie did it anyway, even though she had nothing to really gain from it. It made Lara's blush deepen.

When Lara actually fully gripped onto Evie's shoulder and leaned against her, she realized that most of the blood in her body was probably concentrated in her face.

Her arm wrapped itself around Evie's neck while her torso pressed up slightly against hers. Lara's foot rested against Evie's leg, because it hurt to both suspend it in the air and place it on the ground, so it needed somewhere to go. She wasn't sure if her face could get any redder.

Lara spoke up in a small, timid voice.

"Thanks..."

The sensation of Lara’s warm, damp skin and enviable muscles against her own body was undeniably a pleasant one, and Evie was all too happy to take her time helping the other girl stagger across to the ice machine. It was just good sense right? No point risking further pain or injury by rushing. She wasn’t being a creep by prolonging the physical contact on purpose, was she?

Of course not. The excuse was plenty good enough. Easy for Evie to convince herself it was a benefit, not the goal.

At length, the pair made it across the room to somewhere Evie could help set Lara down on a bench and help dispense some ice. A twinge of phantom sympathy pain ran down her own leg for a moment as the girl looked on Lara’s suffering. She’d certainly been there herself before, stuck between the rock of “this hurts” and the hard place of “but fixing it hurts too”.

“You want me to call someone or anything? Get you a ride home or whatever?”

"No, no. You do not have to call anyone. My phone is in my locker. I can call my parents if anything else comes up," Lara responded, trying not to curl her legs up. That would probably make it worse, having her legs contracted for long periods of time, so she needed to extend them while keeping them off of the ground.

Without bothering to ask, Lara put her feet on Evie's lap before wrapping the ice pack around her ankle. She hissed in both pain and relief as the freezing pack covered the inflamed nerves. The cold wave traveled up her leg, her nerves and blood vessels constricting under the temperature of the ice. It felt good.

Lara held that position for a while, hunched over and eyes closed, not making a sound other than the occasional moan from the feeling of pain dissipating from her body. It was strangely cathartic, all things considered.

With her moment in the spotlight essentially done, Evie felt... well, she felt awkward. Voyeuristic. She was just there, trying not to stare at Lara in pain. She dwelled increasingly on how much she'd enjoyed being helpful before, and not just the part where doing good feels good: it made her feel guilty to have taken pleasure in holding the other girl close, feeling the warmth of her flesh, the tension of her muscles. It was as much as she could do to supress blushing thinking about it, but her awkwardness was quite plain on her face were Lara to look.

In the grip of that awkwardness, Evie felt two conflicting desires. She wanted to be out of the situation, but she also wanted to be there for - and with - Lara.

"So, uhm,"

Evie bit her lip. Stared at Lara's foot for a couple of seconds. So little a thing to pin her completely in place.

"Should I..."

Everything in her told Evie to say anything but what she went on to say. Told her to offer some kind of support, or test the waters with some sort of flirtation. Told her not to chicken out. Not to put craving acceptance over craving, well, anything else she wanted. And boy did she ignore all of that and pick the cowardly option instead.

"Should I go? Let you get yourself together?"