I blink to make sure what I’m seeing is real. The girl I talked to on the bus last night is climbing over the wall to the pool area but ends up in the bushes. I stop the treadmill to help her, but one of the employees opens the gate.
They have a conversation, and he allows her to stay even though it clearly says the pool is closed. I’d do the same, buddy. Watching her body sink into the pool, I decide to start the treadmill back up and admire her while I finish my workout.
She’s definitely not a leisure swimmer. She must’ve competed at some point in her life. After forty-five minutes of me telling myself to leave well enough alone, that I’m here for a wedding and then I’m going back to start my season soon, I still find myself stopping the treadmill and walking out to the pool area.
Whe
