AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I don’t even know what I’m more angry about—the fact that Seth wants to ignore our whole kissing thing, or the fact that I care so much.” I grimace, hating the feelings surfacing. I’ve that so much about this, but voicing how I feel is terrifying. Especially, since I’m talking about this with my girlfriend of all people. “A part of me wants to know where we can take this—” I wave my hand, not know what I mean by ’this, “relationship.” That’s all I can really call it, even though Seth and I have nothing. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’m with you, and yet I want to see where this goes with Seth.”
Rachel takes my hand, lacing her fingers with mine. The tension in my shoulders subside the moment I feel her warmth. She smiles up at me and my heart flutters, loving the adoration in her gaze. “It’s fine, Alex. I know you both care for me and I won’t be upset if you want to explore that side of you. There’s nothing wrong with being curious. I want you to be happy.”
I shake my head. What she’s saying is amazing, but I know it won’t go any further than this. “I know that, Rachel, but I don’t think Seth wants to try.”
“He’s scared.”
I scowl. “It’s annoying.”
Rachel caresses my brow, pushing away the locks lingering there. “Just give him some time, Alex. That’s all you can really do.”
I bob my head in acknowledgement, but I can’t see how time will fix this. All I can do is go on with my life and hope for the best.
Chapter 12
HUNTER
Alternativerockplaysinthe background while I wipe down the bench, bobbing my head lightly to the tune. It’s an old one I haven’t heard in a while. My notebook rests on the floor, opened in the middle to where I have written passages from the education book I’ve been re-reading every night. I’ve never been one for academics, and even though I’ve been trying my best for the past month to keep up with the reading exercises and the homework, my grades are still lacking. I didn’t expect straight A’s, but I had hoped for better than a C average even after all my late nights studying. Makes me wonder about my undergrad career and how many teachers curved my grades to ensure I remain on the team. That definitely doesn’t help me now.
“Excuse me.”
I perk up, finding a petite girl standing in front of me, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. She looks so young, possibly a freshman, and the way she keeps looking around makes me think this is her first time in a gym—most likely one of those types who start a workout program as their New Year’s resolution. If that’s the case, I should applaud her. Usually those types are done by the end of January, and we’re nearly into March.
“Yeah, can I help you?” I ask while tossing my rag onto the bench, my notebook forgotten on the floor.
“Do you think you could spot me? I’ve never done a weighted squat on my own.”
I bite my tongue to keep myself from asking her if she should be doing that exercise now, given this looks like it’s her first time stepping into a gym. However, I decide to give her the benefit of the doubt and nod, following her towards the rack in the back of the room. The gym is pretty much empty anyway. There are a few girls running on the treadmill and three bro-types standing in the corner, laughing amongst themselves while hogging a whole array of dumbbells I don’t think they’ve touched since they came in twenty minutes ago. I would go up and scold them, but, then again, there isn’t really anyone here and they’re not doing any harm.
The girl seems to know what she’s doing. I watch her put weights onto the bar, holding the metal like she’s done this for years. Maybe she’s used to coming to the gym with her boyfriend, or she normally works out at home. She eases herself underneath the bar and I approach her, arms at her side, ready to grab if anything slips.
The men in the corner stop laughing and I frown, feeling their weight on me and the girl. Or maybe, she asked me to come over, because she was worried what that group would do. The gym can be a volatile place for a girl, especially if she’s lifting heavy.
I follow her movements up and down, listening to her soft, “One, two, three,” as she counts each rep. Once she makes it to eight, she rests the rack down and huffs, her face red and flushed while she regains her energy.
“I take it this isn’t your first time lifting?” I ask with a chuckle, my gaze sliding to the weight. As soon as I see the number my eyes widen and I feel like a massive idiot: 70 kilos. That’s like 155 pounds. She’s at most 140, maybe 145. Sure, I can lift 70 kilos, but I’m huge and she’s tiny.
The girl chuckles and shakes her head. “Definitely not.”
The guys in the corner have completely stopped talking and I see all three of them watching her, scrutinizing her. The girl turns away, her back facing them. Yep, she totally called me over as her protector. There’s no way she needs me.
We continue the rest of her set in silence, which I’m fine with. The silence helps me go over my schedule in my head, trying to work out when I will be able to read the fifty pages I need for my Exercise Science class and when I will have the time to study for my Nutrition class.
“Thank you,” the girl mumbles as soon as she’s done. I twiddle my fingers at her as she goes to leave, noticing how she keeps her head down when she passes the group of boys on her way toward the girl’s locker room.
They don’t dare say anything to her, which is a smart move given I’m watching. Sexual harassment is a no-go in our gym, but I know it still happens. The guys return to chatting and once again I am tempted to tell them to return the dumbbells to the rack if they don’t plan on using them.
“Hey, Hunter.”
A chill runs down my spine at that familiar voice and my skin prickles. Speaking of being harassed, I think darkly while slowly turning around, finding Millie hovering behind me, looking up at me all innocently. You would think after our last interaction she would take the hint I don’t want to be around her. Did she ever frequent this gym before? I don’t recall ever seeing her. How did she even figure out I worked here, or was running into her last time completely by mistake?
“Hi, Millie,” I say out of politeness. She is a customer, and as an employee of this gym, I should treat her with as much respect as I possibly can. Unfortunately, after everything we’ve been through, I absolutely hate her guts. I don’t want anything terrible to happen to her, but it’s the kind of hate where I hope she gets stuck on theIt’s a Small Worldride for six hours; the kind of hate where I hope a friend uses her car and forgets to fill up the gas.
“We didn’t get to talk much last time I saw you,” she says while stepping closer.
I take a step back, looking around eagerly for anything I could busy myself with. Even cleaning the men’s toilets would be better than talking to her. “Well, I’m at work.”
“Sure, but it’s not busy now.”
