by Nyrae Dawn
“Come on, Annabel. Three more. You can do this.”
I push my legs up again. Yeah, I can do this. I find that, all of a sudden, I really want to. Again, I lift, pushing past the burn, focusing on the way I haven’t thought about yesterday between the time we started the run until just a second ago.
“You got this. One more and then you get your surprise.”
His wording makes me falter slightly, but I catch myself. Ignoring the way “surprise” sounds more like a friendly gesture than trainer/trainee one, I lift against the resistance one last time. “Oh my God.” I go limp against the machine. “Is it always supposed to be tougher the second day?” I’m panting. My eyes are closed and I probably look like I had a near drowning experience in my own sweat, but right now I can’t find it in myself to care.
“It’s just because your body is adjusting and you’re sore from yesterday, but you know what? You hardly flinched the whole day. You were in the zone. Not half of the resistance you had just twenty-four hours ago.”
My heart finds the energy to do a happy dance in my chest. I let my head roll to the side and open my eyes. Without meaning to, I smile at him.
“You killed it today. Now you definitely deserve to kick some ass.”
Huh? “I’m a lover, not a fighter. Plus, isn’t it against some trainer, client code to challenge said client to a fight? Not sayin’ I couldn’t take you, but ya know…”
Tegan shakes his head and chuckles. “Come on, Annabel. Trust me.” He holds out his hand and I let him pull me off the quads of steel AKA I-may-never-be-able-to-move-my-legs-again. As soon as I’m up, we both let go. “And just so ya know, you’d be good competition, but you couldn’t take me. Not yet.” He winks and walks away, leaving me no choice but to follow him. Again.
***
“Um, I’m not really much of a boxer.” We’re in a small room by ourselves. I swear, Let’s Get Physical is like a haunted mansion on Scooby Doo. It has all sorts of secret rooms I didn’t know about. There are a couple long punching bags (no clue if they have a special name) and then the little ones where you have become like Road Runner to keep up with them once they start flying.
“Are you sure you’re not my girlfriend or something? I think you just like to argue with me. Where’s the trust?”
“You have a girlfriend?” I blurt out and then I want to box myself for saying it. You have a girlfriend? Of course he does. Maybe Supermodel up front or someone equally pretty. Plus, it’s not like I care.
“No, bad analogy, I guess, but you get the point. What about you?”
Why is Gym Boy asking me this? Hello. I figure sarcasm is my best defense. “Nope. Don’t swing that way.”
He chuckles again at me. He seems to do that a lot. “You know what I mean. But”—he leans closer to me and I catch a chill. Stupid AC—“I think you knew that. If you didn’t want to answer me, all you had to do is say so.” He stalls a minute and then says, “Your eyes are the craziest shade of blue I’ve ever seen. It’s like looking in a pool or something.”
I feel his breath he’s so close to me. Minty and fresh. What am I doing? Or a better question is, why is he so close?
“Annabel,” he whispers and I swear his voice vibrates through me. Does my name always sound like that? Almost seductive? He’s standing farther away from me now, trying to get me in the mood to hit a bag, not seduce me. What was I thinking? “I want you to find that anger from this morning. I know you worked some of it off, but pull it back up and then kick its ass for good.”
A beep sounds from his pocket. “Hold up a sec,” he says to me before pulling out his phone and saying, “Hey.”
Whoever is on the other line is talking and then Tegan replies, “Three o’clock. Again? You’re going to kill yourself.” More silence from Tegan. “I know I’m the same way, but that’s different. It just sucks. We shouldn’t have to—” He looks at me like he forgot I was in the room. The Tegan from earlier is in front of me again. The one who seems to hide behind a wall like I do. “I’ll come home. I’ll pick him up. No, it doesn’t matter, I’ll change my plans, but I gotta go.”
I’m sure he doesn’t give the person on the other end time to reply before he hangs up. He stands there, looking at me, breathing heavy, but obviously trying to hide it. “Ready?”
I shake my head. I know this has something to do with his brother. My heart softens a little for him. “I can help… if you need something. I mean, I know we don’t know each other, but—”
Tegan cuts me off. “I don’t need any handouts.”
“What? I’m not trying to give you a handout. I’m trying to be nice.”
“Well you don’t have to. We’re here for you, remember? Not me. You don’t have to worry about my crap.”
He gives me a tight, reassuring smile and takes a step back, motioning to the punching bag, and somehow, my body automatically starts to do what he said. Mom’s hurtful remarks, every name Billy has called me and everything he’s put me through. It all starts bubbling over, and despite that I’ve never hit anything in my life, I swing. When my gloved hand makes contact with the punching bag, it feels good. Some of that bubbling anger transfers through me and into the bag. And somehow…somehow I’m hitting for Tegan too.
“There you go, but you’re not nearly as tough as I thought if that’s your best hit. You’re pissed, remember? This is your chance to get even.”
I swing again. Tegan is behind the bag, holding it, but I didn’t even see him move. My fist makes contact a third time. “That’s it. Now I’m feelin’ it. Let it out, Annabel Lee.”
Again and again my fists make contact, harder and harder on the punching bag.
“Tell ‘em how you feel. Whoever it is: parents, friends, some other jerk, boyfriend…”
“Don’t have a boyfriend, but the others I do have.” Not that I’m mad at Em, because she’s all I have, but no matter how much I love my parents, I am mad at them. Over and over I punch. My arms are aching way more than my legs were earlier. My chest hurts I’m breathing so hard and God, I probably look like the world’s biggest idiot, but I don’t care.
I’m showing Billy how he makes me feel. Telling Mom how much she hurts me.
“Damn, that was a good one,” Tegan says from behind the bag. “Keep it up. Get rid of it because it doesn’t belong here. This is your time. No one else’s. If they aren’t motivating you, they don’t belong here.”
I hit harder, faster.
It’s amazing how freeing this is. Like somehow I’m really showing Billy how horrible he’s been to me. Showing him I don’t care, even though I do.
“Whew! That one about knocked me out. Chicks who kick ass are hot.”
Hot? What the hell? I know I’m not ugly. I’m not, but no one has ever called me hot before. It’s too late to stop my swing. It’s flying so fast and hard, I lose my target. My glove slips off the punching bag, but the momentum doesn’t slow. My fist lands right in Tegan’s face and he stumbles backward.
“Ouch! Shit that hurt.”
Holy cow! I just hit Tegan. I rush toward him. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened.”
He’s got his hand over his left eye. “You hit me. Almost knocked me out, that’s what happened.”
Tegan shakes his head, like he’s trying to wake himself up. When he moves his hand, I see a small bruise forming underneath it. “Man, I’m so sorry.” And then I realize, I gave my trainer a black eye! Not that I like hurting people, but it’s kind of invigorating just knowing I have that kind of strength in me.
“Feels good, does it? I thought you were a lover, not a fighter? Could have fooled me.” I almost apologize again, but he’s smiling.
“How can you smile after I gave you a black eye?”
“You gave me a black eye?” he asks.
“A little one.”
He nods. “Bad ass...”
It’s then I remember why I accidentally hit him in the first place. All the anger I just punched away comes
flooding back at me. The memories. The lies. They sing in my blood, pulsing right beneath the surface of my skin. Does he think I’m going to fall for that? That I don’t know he’s playing me? Let’s tease the poor little fat girl and make her think she’s something special. I rip the gloves off and throw them to the ground. “Whatever. I’m done.” Without another word, I turn and walk out, tears stinging my eyes.
When I hear his footsteps behind me, I run. As I peel away from the lot, he stands on the street, watching me go.
Chapter Five
BEN AND JERRY, I MISSED YOU
The next day isn’t a gym day for me. I spend it at home and with Em. She can tell something’s wrong with me, but every time she asks, I blow it off like it’s nothing. It should be nothing, but for some reason, it’s not. I feel like scum right now. Actually, worse than scum.
“Is this about that jerk, Billy?” she’d asked
I’d been honest when I told her no. Because it isn’t about Billy. It’s about Tegan and the way heat simmered inside me when he teased about being hot. The way my heart sped up and my stomach dropped at the same time. More than anything, it’s about the split second before accidental contact between my fist and his face, where I wanted to believe he could really think I’m hot.
I know I’m not ugly. Really I do. Like I said, I know I have a decent face. I’m not the girl who sits around being down on herself all the time. But I’m also a realist; I don’t see flowers and rainbows where they aren’t. I know boys and I know what they think of as hot. I’m not their definition. Which is why the whole Billy situation pisses me off so much. Things weren’t how they seemed, but of course, I’m the one who came out looking like the desperate girl who thought a guy like him would want her.
The difference here is, with Tegan, I had that second of wanting it to be true. A girl’s allowed a second of insanity, right? And to make sure it doesn’t become more than that second, I skip my next gym day and the one after that. I spend those hours being angry at myself. Can you say self-sabotaging behavior? I can, but it doesn’t stop me from doing it. Over and over again until it’s been a week since my last day at the gym and I’ve totally blown my eating plan. All that hard work is wasted. Sometimes I eat because I’m stressed. So sue me.
The chance to show Billy I’m not the girl he can torture anymore. To show Mom I can be what she wants. I’m blowing it all because of Tegan. All of it down the drain. I’ve never been as pissed at myself as I am now.
I pull out my old roller blades and contemplate a trip around the park. That’s exercise. Not the same as what I do with Tegan, but it would be something. Instead I toss them back in the closet. I text Em only to find out she’s in class. Without much of an idea as to where I’m going, I grab my keys. Mom’s going to be home early today and the thought of seeing her makes my chest feel tight with guilt.
My feet take the stairs as quickly as they can. The house suddenly feels suffocating with all its memories on the walls and thoughts of dinners past with my parents at the table, the quiet little arguments they have over me like I'm not sitting three feet away.
I jerk the door open and run outside, only to slam into something hard enough that I stumble backward. If it wasn’t for the hands that reach out for me, I’d be on my jean covered butt right now.
“Slow down there, Rocky. You’re supposed to save that for the gym. If you hadn’t missed the past week, that is.”
Tegan’s hands on me invoke all sorts of feelings I don’t want to discuss. Some of them anger, the others…not so much. I step out of his grasp, but all I come up with to say is, “Rocky?”
“Yep. You have a killer hook. Though we’re going to have to work on your aim a bit. You were a little off target, but I think with some practice, you’ll be knocking people out rather than just giving little black eyes in no time.” Tegan looks at me, obviously amused.
Without meaning to, I laugh. There’s something about his attitude that’s contagious. I want to trust everything he says, laugh at his jokes and even get a flash of myself running up and down those stairs like Sylvester Stallone did in one of the movies. I wonder if it’s real. If he’s really this happy and those glimpses I get of his secretive side are just that—little blips of time in his life. Or if that’s the real Tegan and he tries to hide it with his playfulness.
My mind is spending way too much time on this guy. I realize I’m screwed, so I take another step backward and cross my arms. All it does is give me a better view of his deep brown penetrating eyes. There’s something so real about them. Even though he looks like all the Billy Masons out there, he might be different.
Pretty boys have this power to make girls crazy and if I don’t stop thinking about the realness in his eyes, I have a feeling I’m heading to padded cell territory. “Whatever. Being smooth isn’t going to make this better.”
Tegan holds his hands up. “You’re not going to hit me again, are you? I knew I should have grabbed an ice pack.”
Damn him for forcing me to fight a smile. “I’m going now.” When I try to push the door closed, Tegan sticks his foot out to stop it.
This time, he’s serious when he speaks. “Five minutes.”
I nod my head yes at him, already feeling a crack in my defenses.
“Listen, maybe this is me being a total guy here, but I have no clue what I did to piss you off. Mom says guys are kind of dense when it comes to girls so I’m assuming this is one of those times. The only thing I can come up with is I made you uncomfortable and that freaks me out. I really wasn’t going for sexual harassment when I said that—”
“Aw, so that’s why you’re here. You’re worried about your job. Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell them you harassed me.” I hate to admit it stings a little. Deep down, I wanted there to be another reason he came. Maybe it’s just because I actually had a little fun with him, but like I thought, it’s all just a job to him.
Tegan pushes his hair out of his face. “This is the second time you’ve said that. Your money is no better than anyone else’s. I wouldn’t be here if that were the case.”
“Why are you here?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t like the way we left things. You’re my client. I take my job seriously.”
Ouch. His answer hurts worse than it should.
“Plus… I owe you, I guess.”
It just keeps getting worse. First I’m his job and then a favor. “I helped you get a chair out of a car, Tegan. It’s not like I came up with a cure for cancer or something.”
“I don’t like to owe people.”
“It’s called kindness. Again, it wasn’t a big deal.”
“It’s a big deal to me.” The finality in his tone tells me he’s done and I am too.
“Okay, fine then. Tell me how you know where I live?”
He looks down at the ground for a second. When his head rises, he’s kind of looking up at me, a mischievous smile on his face. “You’ve got two things on me, Annabel Lee: harassment and stealing your address off your record.”
“Ugh!” I gasp, not really sure what to say.
“Breaking the rules is a little fun. I promise, I don’t do it as much as I used to though.”
“You used to steal girl’s addresses a lot? God! Maybe I should turn you in, Stalker Boy.” I can’t believe I’m joking around with him. No, what I can’t believe is how fun it is.
His face pales. “No! That’s not what I meant. Yours is the only address or phone number I’ve ever taken. I meant breaking the rules. Gives you a little rush, ya know?”
“Are you mental?” This boy is all kinds of confusing. I’m not sure I know up from down when I’m around him.
Tegan laughs. “That’s one of the things I like about you. You say what’s on your mind. Plus, you’re funny. Not sure you really see it though.”
This time I don’t fight my laugh. In fact, I hardly even cover my mouth when it bursts free. It takes a few minutes before I settle down enough to speak. “Me? I say what’s on my m
ind? Not even close. No one in my life knows how I really feel about anything.”
“Hmm, maybe I’m just special then. Do you have a crush on me, Annabel Lee?” There’s laughter in his voice, but my insides freeze. This is not happening again.
“Okay, I can tell from your face I just screwed up again, but I’m not sure how. Can we skip to the part where you tell me, so I can apologize and ask you to come back to the gym? You make things a lot more interesting around there.”
My body starts to heat. “Oh, just because you’re gorgeous you think you can get away with whatever you want. That you’ll ask me to come back to the gym and I’ll just do it. Well think again, buddy!”
“You think I’m gorgeous?” It’s not a real question. He’s only trying to frustrate me.
“Ugh! I hate you!” I try and slam the door, but he stops me again. His eyes go from flirty to serious in T minus two seconds.
“I’m not playing games. I’m not sure why you think that.”
“Um, because look at me and look at you. You know my percentage of body fat for God’s sake. You can’t know that kind of information and then tease about my hit being hot or tell me I make the gym more interesting. I get the rules and I’m okay with them. Don’t try and make me look stupid. I can’t workout with you.” The words stick in my mouth like cotton candy. I want to work out. I want to work out with Tegan too.
But then I get annoyed again when he actually steps inside my doorway to keep me from closing the door on him. “There are so many things I want to say about what you just said, but I’m going to focus on the workouts. If you want this, really want it, don’t fight it just because you don’t like me. Get another trainer. Keep me. Whatever, but don’t lose faith.” He shrugs. “If you really want this that is.”
His words sound suspiciously like a challenge to me and by the way half his mouth twitches, I can tell it is. I want to fight it, fight him, but there’s a bigger part of me who wants to take him up on this. Not just because it is what I want, but because there’s something about him that intrigues me. I’d never admit it to anyone but myself, but I need to know what makes him tick. Why he’s so freaked out about getting help from people, when it’s obvious he puts himself out there for everyone else.