Shine: The Knowing Ones (9 page)

Trin reached the wall and flipped one last time. Approaching the end of the lane, he reached for the touch several seconds before anyone else while the Ute fans went crazy. He came up out of the water, lifting his goggles, and checked the scoreboard. He didn’t care what it said, didn’t even see the numbers, far too distracted by the beautiful brunette in the top row. He hung back, catching his breath as the rest of the swimmers came in. He stole a quick glance to the top row, then dropped his gaze to the water, thankful to be in his element.

The race concluded and the announcer’s voice sounded. “First place University of Utah, Trin Kosolov.” The deafening crowd roared as the swimmers exited the pool.

Sam followed Trin as if he were the only person in the room. Removing his cap and goggles, he ran a hand through his sun bleached hair, water trickling in beads down his muscular back. With his thumb and forefinger at the bridge of his nose, he squeezed the excess water from his eyes.

He headed toward the warm up pool, Sam’s eyes never wavering as he moved through the swimmers. He stopped to talk to the coach, one of his teammates giving him a congratulatory slap on the back. He smiled, teasing at her heart. He finished up with the coach and continued toward the warm up pool.

When he reached the edge, he stopped and turned to Sam. Faint blue light ignited around his pupils, gleaming. The noise of the crowd faded then vanished and she heard Trin’s voice inside her head.
Meet me out front after the meet.

Sam stared, confounded. His gaze remained.
Meet me out front after the meet.
He waited for a response. She nodded. The thunderous noise resumed, Trin smiled, pulling his cap and goggles back on. In the warm up pool, he began swimming steady laps. Events continued in the other pool, holding the attention of the Ute crowd. But Sam’s eyes remained locked on the other pool and the enigmatic swimmer in lane two.

CHAPTER TWELVE

S
am stood out in front of the Athletic Complex. The meet was over and she was doing as she had been mentally instructed by Superman in the natatorium. The past twenty-four hours had been nothing short of surreal. She allowed a mental picture of Trin when he had first noticed her in the stands. She lowered her head and smiled. There were no words.

Just then, as if her thoughts had been an introduction, the door to the complex opened and out walked Trin with two of his teammates, all dressed in identical black team warm ups trimmed in Ute crimson red. She recognized his friends as the two he had been out with the night before, both emitting deep, testosterone-filled auras.

Trin lifted a hand toward her. “Chris, Adam, this is Sam.”

“Hey, Sam,” Chris said, taking his hand from his pocket.

Adam jerked his chin up. “How’s it goin’, Sam?”

Sam smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Chris turned to Trin, his smile broadening. “Later, man.” He clapped him on the shoulder.”

Adam nodded at Sam. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” she said. The two young men disappeared into the parking lot.

Trin turned to Sam, eyes glinting. “This was a surprise.”

“Well,” she said. “You’re Trin Kosolov. I had to take advantage of the opportunity to see you swim live.”

“I see.”

Sam laughed.

His light eyes skimmed over her, sending a thrill to the pit of her stomach. “Well, this alters our plans a bit,” he said.

“Okay. Why?”

“Because I am completely starving,” he said. “So you’re going to have to go to lunch with me, too.” He lifted a hand toward the parking lot, ushering her to his truck.

“Oh,” Sam hedged. “I’m really not very hungry.”

He opened the passenger door. “Well, you’re gonna have to watch me eat then, unless you want me to pass out during your Calc lesson.”

“No,” Sam replied climbing in. “I totally need you conscious.”

He laughed. “I am more useful that way.” He closed the door behind her.

They pulled into a little restaurant on University Boulevard. Trin parked in a spot close to the door and shut off the engine. Out of habit Sam reached for her door handle.

“Sam.”

She pulled her hand back, shrinking into the leather seat. Trin climbed out of the truck, walked around to her side, and opened her door.

She climbed out, wincing up at him. “Sorry, habit.”

“Break it.”

“All right.”

He smiled, moving aside so she could climb out. They entered the small, chic deli; one of the many little restaurants that lined the drive. A counter up front offered several decadent selections, with tables by the windows and booths in the back. Trin walked Sam up to the counter and began scanning his options on the board. The weight of gawking admirers and fans closed in on them. He was oblivious to all of it.

He looked down at Sam. “You sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’ll have a glass of water.”

Trin grinned, amusement in his eyes. He nodded in concession and a young woman about their age came to the counter. “What can I get you?”

He looked back to the menu board. “I’ll have a pound of your chicken curry, two of your club sandwiches, a side of your steamed vegetables, some potato salad, and one of those brownies.”

The girl began scribbling the large order down. Trin glanced at Sam, who was gaping in disbelief having watched him order half the restaurant. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said in feigned reproach. He looked to the server. “Can I get a glass of water?” He grinned down at Sam, who was now glaring. She gave him a shove. “Do your fans know you’re a smart ass?”

“Do your friends know you’re abusive?”

“Yep.”

“Just checking.”

Sam felt her breath slipping away as Trin’s seductive eyes plunged into her. The semi-confused server left to fill the order as Sam fought a smile. The camaraderie between them was almost too natural. Trin guided her through the café.

“That’s quite an appetite,” she said.

“You try racing three events back to back and see how hungry
you
get.”

“I can guarantee I will never be that hungry in my entire life.”

“Well, I suppose not, if you’re used to a
water
diet.”

“Shut up,” she laughed. “You’re horrible.”

“And hungry, if that’s all right with you.”

“Yes, fine with me. Don’t let me stop you.”

They came to a secluded corner table in back and Trin moved aside for her to sit first. He slid into the booth bench across from her and removed his team jacket. His muscled shoulders hunched as he placed his elbows on the table and clasped his hands. Sam dropped her head to one side. “And on that note, do they always have you swimming in that many events?”

“Not always,” he replied. “But I usually do more than one.”

Sam shook her head. “That just looks exhausting. I mean, you barely had any breaks, and then all that swimming in between.”

“We have to swim in between,” he explained. “Racing jacks you up.”

Sam took a deep breath. “Hmm. I don’t think I could do what you do.”

“Sure you could,” he said. “I’m sure you work just as hard as I do, just in different ways.”

“That’s true, I guess,” she replied, looking down at the table. She glanced up at him. “You are amazing to watch,” she said. She thought of the luminous energy she had witnessed along with his immaculate
performance, and all of her questions from the night before came rushing back.

“You mentioned telepathy last night. I didn’t know you could actually speak to me that way.”

Trin glanced sideways, smiling. “That’s what telepathy is.”

“Well yeah,” she said, “but we were discussing how you got me to come to you. I thought you were referring to that.”

Trin shrugged. “Sounds like an assumption.” His eyes gleamed.

She wanted to slug him. “You said you would tell me
everything
.”

“I will, but it’s not going to happen all in one sitting.”

“How much do you know?”

“It’s not just me, Sam,” he said. “I acknowledge and use what’s already there.”

She stared for a moment, then shook her head. “Whatever. How do you do what you did today?”

“I sent a message. You heard me.”

“Nobody can just do that.”

“Have you tried?”

Sam paused, wanting to argue, but she couldn’t...because she hadn’t.

“No,” she said. “But I know it’s not that simple. People would be doing it all the time if it were.”

“Would they?” Trin leaned forward, inclining his head. “How many people do you think have ever even considered trying that?”

Sam pondered that a moment. “Probably not many.”

He sat back. “It does take more than just the idea of it, but it’s not magic or super powers, its understanding. Flying, for example, or electricity; they seem like magic until you understand how they work. Knowledge makes everything simple.”

Sam stared. “Aeronautics and electricity are not simple concepts.”

“They are to those who understand them,” Trin said. “Think about it. If you study and practice something it becomes easy. It becomes part of who you are, totally natural. Sound like anything you know?”

Once she got past his lethal blue eyes she responded. “Dance.”

Trin nodded. “Dance. I can tell you right now the thought of spinning around on my toes for any amount of time sounds horrifying.” Sam laughed, lowering her head. He leaned in. “And yet you do it every day, easily. What I do is no different than that.”

“Yeah, but normal people don’t understand all the crazy stuff you understand.”

Trin pursed his lips. “Now I’m crazy and abnormal.”

Sam laughed out loud.
“No
. It’s just—you know what I mean.”

“Don’t know that I do.”

“Oh my God,”

He sat back, a satisfactory grin on his face.

Sam smirked. “You suck.”

“We’ve established that, thank you.”

She shook her head and laughed again. He watched her, playful eyes dancing through damp wisps of sun-streaked hair. She looked down at her hands a moment, then glanced up. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Shoot.”

“What were you doing before diving into the pool today? With the water, I mean.” She glanced at the table. “All the swimmers gave off energy, but you were...
doing
something.”

The guarded individual from the night before returned. He nodded once, his aura morphing to the serene, golden blue that had dominated the night before.

Sam sat up, pointing. “Right now. What are you doing and how are you doing it?”

He paused for a moment, hesitant. “I’m cloaking my energy,” he finally said. “It’s pretty much the closest thing to privacy people like you and I have.”

Sam tilted her head, fascinated. Before meeting Trin it would never have occurred to her there would be a need for such a thing. But having been exposed like an open book to Trin over the past twenty-four hours she could certainly see its value.

She sat back. “I want to learn how to do that.”

“You already know how.”

She glanced at the ceiling. “I
really don’t know how
. Believe me, I would have been doing it all last night.”

“You were.”

Sam squinted in confusion.

“You were,” he reiterated. “At least until you met
me.
”

“What are you talking about?” she argued.

Trin sat up a bit. “Before I brought you over last night you were totally closed,” he said. “I’ve never seen an aura seal up like that. It was the most solid cloaking I have ever seen.”

Sam thought for a moment and then the light went on. “The dance floor.”

Trin nodded with a slight smile. “Believe me. You’ve already got that one down.”

Sam thought it over. “Really?”

“Really.”

She considered her newfound accomplishment for a moment. “Okay,” she began. “Those guys were annoying. What if I want to hide my emotions from someone I
don’t
want to kill?”

Trin’s glacier eyes gleamed from beneath his lashes. “Hopefully you’re referring to
me.”

“You’re very smart.”

“Just checking,” he said. “After all the violence and name calling I wasn’t sure.”

“Trin!”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed. He hesitated a moment, then rested his elbows on the table again. “Cloaking is a defense mechanism. It keeps other people out.
You
can see my energy. I picked up on that when I saw you. Not wanting you to know everything about me right off I turned it on. This will sound weird, but engaging it is a confidence issue.”

Sam stared. “What do you mean?”

“If you feel self-conscious or inferior to someone it is nearly impossible to cloak.”

“You don’t ever feel insecure?”

Trin tilted his head. “Insecure, yes.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “With everything I have learned,
inferiority
is not something I deal with anymore.”

Sam sat across from him, awed by what he had just said.

“I know how that sounds,” he began, “but you have to understand how I view negative emotion. Fear, despair, pride, hatred, anger,
inferiority
. I was raised to see them for what they are.”

“And what are they?”

“Unnecessary.”