Measuring Up (5 page)

He almost said “I” have to believe
. His words fill a part of me I wouldn’t have thought him capable of filling and not for the reason I would think. But the way his voice almost cracks, the
depth of…well, belief in them, makes me want to believe too. Somehow, I can tell he needs it as much as I do.

“Um, okay. Yeah, I believe. Sorry. Bad day. I had to deal with this jer—never mind. Just feeling sorry for myself.”

“Yeah, shitty day for me, too.” Tegan stands there like he’s thinking. A little smirk teases his lips and I wonder if he realizes it before I start to wonder why I noticed it. I should not be noticing things like this about Gym Boy. “Okay, I have a plan, but you have to A)
not
mind if we deviate from your regularly scheduled workout for a bit and B) you have to work really hard to earn it.”

“What is it?” Like I’m going to agree to something without knowing what it is. Yeah right.

“I’m not telling. Let’s just say we’re working on that trust thing you mentioned you need to have for your trainer. I will say, it’ll help and I think you’ll enjoy it. I’ll enjoy it too. That’s all you’re getting out of me, though.” He crosses his arms, but this time, t
he tension’
s gone.

Is it possible for a day at the gym to screw with your head? I’m really starting to think so because before I can talk myself out of it, I find myself saying, “Fine, whatever. But this better be good.”

“Deal. Let’s get going then. We have a lot to cover today. I have some time between you and my next appointment, if you don’t mind us running late.”

That automatically makes a sheen of sweat slap itself across my forehead. Great. We haven’t even worked out yet and I’m already sweating. How attractive is that? Plus, adding the words running and late together don’t sound good
to me at all, but I nod
anyway.

Luckily it doesn’t start out as bad as I thought when I find out the first item on our list is to work out a meal plan. He doesn’t tell me what to eat. We just talk about what I usually do eat, he gives me a book on suggestions, a diary to write my meals in, and the amount of calories I need to stay under.

“Oh, and water. Be sure you drink a lot of water.”

I nod, a little sad I’ll have to say goodbye to Ben and Jerry. “What about you? You drink smoothies.”

“Not you too.” He groans. “Can’t a guy have a sweet tooth? At least its fruit I’m reaching for and not something else.”

I know he didn’t mean it, but his words sting. I would be the one reaching for something else. He can have a smoothie a day because he’s not trying to lose weight. He moves on, not seeming to realize how his statement affected me.

We begin our aerobic on the treadmills and to my surprise, Tegan jogs with me again. We up the speed a little and I try to ignore the easy rise and fall of his chest while I’m panting for breath. From there we head into weights and resistance training and I’m wondering when this whole idea of his is starting. So far we’re basically doing the
same thing as yesterday. My legs burn
like they’re on fire while we do some machine that is supposed to give me quads of steel. They feel more like jelly at the moment.

“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 S
upermodel 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 h
ere for you, remember? Not me. You d
on’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 reas
on, 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 want
ed to believe he could really think I’m hot.

I know I’m not ugl
y. 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.