Measuring Up (6 page)

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.”

“U
g
h!” 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 mind? 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.

“Just say yes, Rocky. I know you’re going to. I watched you that first day. Saw the determination on your face while you walked to the gym. Then you’d let it beat you a little. Totally different body language while you walked back to your car.”

Not sure how I feel about him studying my body language.

“Then your head would be held high again when you’d walk back. Show me that determination. Show me what I saw on your face when you were hitting that punching bag.”

I lean against the door, knowing I have no defense for him. “You’re determined.”

“Show me you’re more determined.”

I just don’t get it. All his answers sound so real. They make sense when he says them, but I really don’t get why he’d come all the way here, go through this much trouble just for me. “Why?” I ask again. It takes him a minute to reply. When he does, I know he really understood what I meant.

His eyes divert from mine, studying something on my house. “You were pissed that first day. You wanted to kick my ass, but then you saw…and you helped. No matter how you felt about me you did it because it was the right thing to do. Not because you felt sorry for anyone. It was just a reflex.”

His words almost steal mine
. They do capture my breath. “Anyone would have.”

He shakes his head. “No, they wouldn’t.”

More bits and pieces of him start to show. Who wasn’t there for him? Who shattered his belief in people helping him or his family?

Tegan’s eyes find mine. The way he’s looking at me, it’s like he can see through me. As though he knows things about me no one else does. I want to see what he does. “Yeah, okay. Just…don’t play games with me, kay? Be real.”

Tegan nods.

“So, tomorrow?” I ask.

“It’s our day of—oh wait, I picked up a few extra hours, but not till later. Go jogging with me.”

Automatically, I want to say no, but then I remember the decision I just made. The one I’m sticking with no matter what. “Okay, but I’m warning you, there is no way I’ll be able to keep pace with you.”

Tegan smiles and steps back on the porch. “Don’t doubt yourself, Annabel Lee. You can do it.
I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6:00
AM.”

“WHAT?”

He tilts his head and gives me a look. “Wussing out already?”

“Ugh, fine. See you at six.” Then I remember Mom and Dad. “Um, can we meet though?”

He looks a little offended before telling me to meet him at Let’s Get Physical instead. He gets halfway down my walkway before turning to face me again. “I’m probably going to regret this, but remember, you promised to be there.” He’s quiet for a second and then says, “And I am…looking, I mean. You said look at you and I just want to tell you, I am.”

Then he’s gone and I’m left more out of breath than any treadmill or round of boxing could ever leave me.

***

I’m standing in front of my mirror in a pair of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. It’s ridiculous, I know. I see myself every day, but I can’t help but study every rounded curve of my body. No inch goes unnoticed. My shiny black hair, the freckles on my nose. My eyes, like I said, I’ve always liked those. My mouth isn’t bad either, I don’t think. Plump lips are in right? I mean, ever since Angelina Jolie at least.

There’s a little mole by my collar bone. A dimple on the right side of my mouth when I smile big. I frown. It’s much smaller that way.

He said he’s looking. Tegan’s looking at
me
and I’m trying to figure out what he sees. I know what I see. There’s little dimple in my thigh, resting under my rear. My arms are too big. Is that what he sees? If so, why is he looking?

Turning to the side, I suck in my stomach. My boobs aren’t bad. Actually, I’m pretty proud of them. They’re nice and round. Much bigger than Em’s, but not too big, if you ask me. She always says she wishes hers were more like mine. Are they what he sees?

Or is that not what he meant at all? That he’s looking deeper than what he sees on the outside? My willingness to help him with his brother seems big to him. Like it actually meant something. Like it tells him something about me. Maybe I’m studying myself in the mirror for nothing and it’s really the helpful girl who pulled a chair from a van that he’s talking about.

I want both to be true. I like being seen for the inside, but for once, I’d love for someone to look at me too. To think I’m beautiful, not in the you’d-have-a-pretty-face-but way that I’m used to.

I think of Em again, the need to call her, to tell her surging inside me. She’s my best friend and she’ll support this. She’ll support me, right? And she’ll always be honest. I need to know exactly what she thinks when she looks at me.

Turning for my cell, I jump when I see a figure standing in my doorway. “Mom. You scared the bejesus out of me.”

Her arms are crossed in another suit. It’s almost bedtime and she hasn’t changed yet. “What were you doing?”

My tongue itches to tell her. To really ask her what she thinks about me, but I’m scared of the answer. “Nothing.” I shrug.

I turn back to the mirror and she comes up and steps behind me. “I’ve been thinking…”

“What?”

She fingers my hair. “How would you like a few highlights? It might be fun to do something different, don’t you think?”