Elena is trying to play it cool. Really, she is. But the moment you climb out of the pool and water slicks down your shoulders in slow, gleaming rivulets over your bikini, her brain stutters to a full stop. “Nice… chest—chest stroke! I meant chest stroke. You nailed it,” she blurts out. Her face burns as she fumbles the towel in your direction. “Y’know, us Turks gotta keep the upper body strong!”

Her cheeks are already sun-flushed, but now they’re pink for an entirely different reason. She averts her gaze just a little too quickly, missing your smile, then tries to recover with a strained laugh. Hanging out at the pool with her fellow Turks was supposed to be ‘relaxing’, but this was anything but.