What Brings Me to You (25 page)

I turned on a really upbeat song about being stronger being alone by a powerhouse female vocalist. I let the music dictate my pace until I couldn’t breathe anymore, and then slowed down to a walk. I sped up and slowed down over and over for forty-five minutes. I was glad there was no one there to see me make a fool of myself. I wasn’t sure if speeding up and slowing down like that was appropriate, but it’s all I could handle.

              When I finally stopped, the busty, chiseled receptionist was flirting with your average himbo beef cake, gym guy between me and EMPLOYEE ONLY doors. I only noticed this because I was trying to focus on something other than how fast my heart was beating. I was dizzy, but not overly so, so I thought I’d be able to walk it off.

I thought wrong.

              I took two steps away from the treadmill and lost my bearings. I was disoriented and then nothing.

              The next time I looked up I was looking into the face of said himbo beefcake gym guy –there were fluorescent lights and exposed duct work behind his head.
Shit. I’m on the floor.
At first I thought I’d had another panic attack which started to make me panic, but I didn’t remember feeling like I was going to die beforehand so obviously I didn’t.

              “Hey,” he barked like he was giving me orders like we were at boot camp. That startled me. “You okay? You took a nasty fall.”

              “Fine,” I said. At least that’s what I thought I said. Obviously it wasn’t because he asked me to repeat myself. When the words came out they were garbled even to me.

              “Denise, get my bag,” he ordered to Basketball boobs. “Can you hear me?”
Is he talking to me?
He shook my arm again. “Can you hear me, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart? What the hell?

              “I can hear you,”
Doll face
I wanted to add, but I couldn’t form the words to pull off my joke. Not like this meat head would get it anyway. Basketball boobs came over with a black backpack and handed it to Meat head.

              “Have you eaten today?” he asked but I had a hard time focusing on the origin of his voice. It seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere even though his face was right in front of mine, or I should say, over top of mine. I shook my head no, which was a mistake because that’s when the throbbing started. I had to shut my eyes the pain was so intense and I held each side of my head at the temples.

              “Okay sweetheart, I need you to sit up for me.” I did, but that made the throbbing worse and I could feel the tears start to well up in my eyes from the pain. “I know you’re hurting, but I need you to open your eyes for me.” I nodded imperceptibly even to me and opened my eyes slowly. The fluorescent lighting stung but I opened them fully and focused on Meat head.

              “Follow my finger, sweetheart,” I did as he asked partly because I wanted him to stop calling me that. He traced his finger from left to right through my field of vision. I didn’t know why, nor did I care. When I realized that I didn’t have a problem following his finger I focused on his face instead. Meat head aside, he was cute. Though it too was hard, just like Basketball boobs, he had a nice face. He was obviously older, but how much older I wasn’t sure. He took good care of himself and not just because he was beefcake but his skin was flawless, his teeth were perfectly straight and gleaming white. He was clean shaven and clean cut with his thick brown hair perfectly gelled into a side part. He had ink on his right arm right underneath where his shirt sleeve ended but I couldn’t tell what it was because I was too focused on the muscle underneath. His body was incredible. Every bulge of muscle was perfectly defined and huge. Kneeling in front of me with one knee pointing toward the ceiling, his mesh shorts bunched up near his hip, I could see muscles in his leg I didn’t know existed.

              “You don’t seem to have a concussion which is good.” He reached into the bag and pulled out a small bottle of orange juice and two pills. “Drink this. You need to get your blood sugar up. These will help with your headache.”

I tried to eke out a thank you but the pounding in my temples wouldn’t let me. So I silently took the pills and took a sip of the juice which seemed to soothe me the instant it touched my tongue. I started to put the lid back on the bottle but Meathead touched my hand gently considering it was as big as a baseball mitt.

              “Sweetheart, you need to drink that entire bottle.” So I drank the entire bottle sitting on the floor with Meathead beside me. Watching me. When I finished he took the empty bottle from my hands and threw it in the trash without getting up.

              “Do you think you’re okay to stand?” He asked slightly less gruffly.

              “I think so,” I said having finally found my voice.

              “Let me help you.” He said and reached out a hand for me to brace myself. He yanked a little too hard, probably didn’t know his own strength, and I went flying forward but he easily caught me in his other arm. Without acknowledging the fact he was basically holding me in his arms, he  searched my face for any sign of the pain. All I could think was: W
hy are you holding onto me like this?
He seemed to understand my hesitation and let go tentatively while I steadied myself. “I really think you should go to SH.”He said composing himself, too.

              “No. I’m fine,” I uttered quickly. The thought of showing up back there and running into Dr. Musgraves was too much. “I’m just going to go lay down for a while. I’ll be fine.”

              “I’m going to walk you.”

              “That isn’t necessary.”

              “Yes it is. I do not want it on my conscience if you don’t make it.”

              “Okay.”

We walked all the way across campus together, side by side, in complete silence. When we stopped at the double doors to the dorm, I was prepared to say a simple “Thanks,” and then run into my room but he said something before I could.

              “This is where you live.” It was a statement. Not a question.

              “Um, yes?” I asked sort of. I guess I was compensating his lack of question.

              “You know there’s a gym right there.” He was pointing to the smaller gym above Fresh Eats. Of course I knew it was there. Did he really think I was that dumb? Obviously, since I’d forgotten water and didn’t eat before ratcheting up my heart rate to one hundred and ninety beats per minute having never done it before. I couldn’t tell him why I’d chosen to go to the other gym since passing out in the middle of the floor completely negated my “be invisible” strategy. So I played dumb.

              “Oh, really? I didn’t know that. I guess I’ll go there from now on.” His mouth twisted up in a half smile which  softened his too hard face a bit.

              “Well,” he said like it was the end of a date and he was waiting for a kiss, “I’ve got to get back, but it was a pleasure meeting you…” he hung on the you for me to give him my name but that was
not
happening. The campus was big enough that, as long as I used the small gym from now on, we’d never bump into each other again.

              “You too. Thanks for walking me,” then I turned tail and ran inside the dorm. I did take one glance back at him, once I was inside and saw in huge white block text TRAINER
printed on the back of his green polo.
Shit. How embarrassing.

*****

              “You have to go back, Charley,” Collette urged. We were walking from my dorm to the kitchen at Fresh Eats after hours. I had introduced Markus and Collette and they hit it off right away. They complimented each other well like two pieces to a puzzle and it felt good to have those two halves of my world come together so seamlessly. She begged me to take her with me on one of Markus and my late night kitchen rendezvous so a night soon after they met I brought her along under strict orders not to tell anyone. It could get us all, but especially Markus, in a lot of trouble if anyone found out we were there, using the equipment. So she didn’t stick out so much, I made her change out of her therapist costume and into something that made her look all of her twenty-four years. She chose faded cut offs that exposed the ink on her thigh and Sex Pistols tee shirt. That was the Collette that I loved. 

              “Are you nuts? There’s no way. I passed out, Collette,” I said as we rounded the corner to the kitchen.

              “When did you pass out, honey?” Markus asked while handing us each a plate of something spicy smelling.

              “She went to the gym for the first time,” Collette said dryly inhaling the sweet, spicy aroma of whatever it was we were about to eat. Markus literally gasped.

              “You did? Without me?”

              “Um, yes?” I don’t know why it came out like a question. I didn’t know it was some kind of law that I go to the gym with Markus or that he’d be so offended that I didn’t.

              “You should’ve gone with me,” then he pointed to himself with the fork in his hand, “How do you think I get this body?”

              “You have a point.”

              “I work out right upstairs. It’s so convenient. Wait! Don’t you live in the building next door?

              “Yes,” Ugh, I really didn’t want to get into why I didn’t use the smaller gym to begin with.

              “Well, come work out with me. It’s usually football players in training or dudes so jacked up on ‘roids who lift weights in there. They won’t even notice you, trust me.”

              “I don’t really know how to take that, Markus.”

              “I just mean they’re more focused on what they see in the mirror and so impotent from the drugs that they’re clueless when a hot piece walks by.”

              “Aw, thanks Markus,”

              “Honey, I was talking about me!”

              We all laughed and ate together. It occurred to me that Collette and Markus were becoming the family I never had. They were the parental figures I always wanted albeit a strange slightly silly family, we were a unit and I was becoming contented with my existence for the first time since leaving Teddy behind.

*****

              I was so wrong. Being in the smaller gym was far less panic inducing. It probably had something to do with the fact I was with Markus. Markus let me do my treadmill thing. He even said that going fast and then slow was better than going at a constant rate for a long period of time. He kept trying to get me to lift weights but that wasn’t happening, however I’d spot him every once in a while when he asked. We went together twice that week then on our third trip, it happened.

              “Oh shit, Markus, I’ve got to go,” I whispered to him while he was lying on the bench about to press an ungodly amount of weight over his face.

              “What? Why?” He asked looking at me upside down from the bench.

              “It’s him. Remember? I told you. The trainer who gave me juice and walked me to the dorm when I passed out?”

              “The hot one?”

              “Shh! Yes, that one. He’s not that hot just…big. Whatever, I need to go.”

              “Wait, I gotta see him, where is he?” Before I could say
Markus, don’t,
he was sitting upright staring him down.

              “Honey, that’s not just
a
trainer, he’s
the
trainer.”

              “What are you talking about?”

              “That’s Jaime Rosen. Head trainer, baby.”

              “Well, what is he doing here? Shouldn’t he be in the big gym?”

              “Usually is, but he comes here every once in a while to check on his guys.”

              “You’ve talked to him?”

              “All the time. I thought he was playing for my team, but the way he’s staring at you I don’t think so.”

              “He is not staring.”

              “Oh yes he is, and now he’s on his way over so you’d better get your shit together.”

              “’Sup man?”  Jaime asked lifting his chin to Markus, then clapping him on the back in one of those really rough looking man hugs. ”Need a spotter?”

              “Nah, Charley’s got it,” Markus said, lowering his voice, I guess to sound more masculine, though it was really unnecessary considering his heft..

              “Charlie? He new?” Jaime asked as he looked around the gym for someone he didn’t recognize.

              “Umm…me…I’m Charley,” I squeaked holding a very shy hand up.

              “Charley, huh?” he said looking me up and down. Not in a dirty way, I guess just sizing me up –that’s what people do in a gym. It was clear to him there was no way I could be an effective spotter. Markus was going to bench my body weight and then some. He smiled quickly -just a flash like a blink. “Glad you have water today.” Total hive factory bloomed on my chest.

              “Yea. Umm, you can go ahead and spot him. It’s way too much weight for me. I was on my way out, anyway.”