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“Alright, Curly Sue. Let’s change it up.”
I followed him out of the ring, and over to a massive tire that I had seen grizzly men toss around.
“You’re going to flip this before I let you leave.”
I blew air out of my mouth, and knelt down, scooting my fingers underneath the hard rubber edges. I pulled upward, but the tire barely budged. I now understood why those men grunted so loudly while they did this. “This is too heavy. I can’t do this.”
“If you think you can’t, then you can’t.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, and stuck my fingers under the tire for a second time. I pulled until my fingers were sore.
“Lift with your legs,” T.J. yelled. “Push through your heels.”
I dug my heels into the floor.
“It’s like a squat. Push up.”
Following his commands, I felt the tire begin to rise. I had lifted it up to my waist when it went smashing back down to the ground. “This is so dumb,” I grumbled.
“Again,” T.J. commanded.
I lifted the tire to my waist for a second time, and tried desperately to get enough leverage to flip it over.
“Get under it!”
“I’m trying!” I yelled back.
“Try harder!”
The more he yelled at me, the angrier I got; the angrier I got, the stronger I felt. I walked myself underneath the tire, bent my knees slightly, and pushed up through my legs with all of my might. The tire finally left my hands and went crashing to the ground onto the other side.
I dropped to the ground and sprawled out on my back, gasping for air. “That… sucked… so bad,” I breathed.
T.J. chuckled and stretched out beside me. He folded his arms back behind his head, and his tattoos stretched with his skin. I allowed my eyes to travel over his body while I caught my breath.
“So, I’m thinking about getting a tattoo.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Out of the blue?”
“I stare at yours every day. It’s not exactly out of the blue.”
“What are you thinking of getting?”
“I don’t know, yet. Tanner’s getting one. I told him I’d go with him to watch.”
“I told him to see my buddy, John. He did all of mine. If you decide to get one, you should have him do it. He’s the best.”
“Do yours all mean something?”
“They do. I got them at different points throughout my life.”
I pointed to the woman’s face imprinted onto his ribcage. She was beautiful, with dark eyes and long wavy hair. Her lips were turned up into a slight smile. “Who is that?”
“That’s my mom.”
“Wow.” I leaned in and ran my fingertips over his slightly raised skin, following the ink swirls in her hair. “She was beautiful.”
“She was.” He stared up at the lights hanging high above us. “What was your life like before your mom left?” he asked.
