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“You bet,” Gia whispered back, unnecessarily. She hadn’t had an adult conversation all day—unless you count talking with the order taker at the market’s meat supplier. It was Friday night, and she was partying it up at the library. OG would’ve been at the club by now, flirting with coeds and making promises she couldn’t keep. How times change.
“You read this one?” the guy asked, flashing the cover of an old Arnold Schwarzenegger book, “The Encyclopedia of Modern Body Building.”
Was he serious?
“Nah, I don’t think the ‘roided-out look would work for me.”
“Yeah, me either, but I like to look at the pictures in these old books. Those guys were crazy. Where do you train?”
“Oh, I don’t—my climbing gym has an area in the back. I’m not fancy.” Gia took pride in her un-fanciness. She was wearing tattered, faded jeans with holes in the knees and a black hoodie pulled over her head with flip-flops, sitting on the floor talking up to a stranger in a strained whisper voice. She was not fancy.
“I know it! Been going there for years. The owner’s a piece of work, huh?”
“I’ve never met him.” Gia stood and leaned against a shelf of design manuals and architectural books. She was almost as tall as him; almost as muscular, too.
“No, the owner—Courtney. A real firecracker, that one.” The guy laughed. “I’m Derrick, by the way.”
“Hey. Gia.” A firm handshake sealed the deal. Derrick would be Gia’s new friend. He didn’t know it yet, but he met her minimal requirements. He was friendly enough, and there was no chance of a romantic connection, though the average woman would’ve probably swooned over his wavy dark hair, long eyelashes, and chiseled jawline. His Clark Kent looks were wasted on her, but that he knew someone she needed to talk about had to be destiny. The universe sending her a sign. “Isn’t she a co-owner with her husband?”
“I don’t really know. Never seen the guy. Maybe he’s a silent partner. I see her kid a lot—he’s wicked fast. A little cocky, but it comes with the territory. I mean, he’s a jock and he could be an Abercrombie model.” Said by a man who could be an Abercrombie model.
“Yeah,” Gia nodded. Since when were climbers jocks? She reserved that title for the big three sports: football, basketball, baseball. But California was a different beast than other places she’d lived. She swore Caleb told her his dad was coming back to the office the day they’d climbed together but hadn’t met him.
“Well, it was nice talking with you—” he reached to remember her name, “—Gia. I’m gonna grab a few of these and bounce. Still gotta hit the iron tonight.” Derrick pulled three more books from the shelf, all thinner than Arnold’s, and tucked them under his arm. That’s when Gia noticed the tattoo on his bicep. A blue square with a yellow equal sign on it. Was Derrick family? Or a very enthusiastic ally? She ruled out ally—permanent ink seemed beyond, “I support you.”
“Hey—”
“Yeah,” Derrick turned.
“Could I join you at the gym? Maybe you could give me a few pointers? Courtney is on my ass about adding muscle, but I’m not super motivated to lift alone. Reading is one thing, but doing—”
“Sure, I’ll meet you there,” Derrick flashed a comforting smile. Did he understand it wasn’t a pickup line or flirtation? That she wanted to lift weights? And maybe talk about Courtney. And not think about missing Roxi.
“And hey, just so you know, I’m family, too.” She pointed to his bicep. “I’m not hitting on you—but I would love a workout buddy. I’m pretty new in town and—”
“I didn’t think you were. Hitting on me.” Derrick leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “My gaydar is finely tuned. See ya there.”
“Okay.” Gia willed the red on her cheeks to behave. No reason to be embarrassed about explaining one’s motivations to a stranger—even if they didn’t need the explanation. “See you there. I just need to stop at home and get some shorts. Gimme half an hour.”
“Deal.” Derrick patted his books and waved an “it’s going to be alright” wave as he headed to the librarian’s station.
Gia needed to get a library card so she could check books out instead of reading them on the sly in the aisles. Regular people have library cards, she told herself as she stuffed the books she’d piled on the floor back in their slots. Or what she thought were their slots. Odds were she’d get one out of order or on the wrong shelf. “Que sera,”she whispered, channeling Roxi’s lackadaisical attitude and selective Spanish.
???
“What, no donut today?” Roxi stood in her usual spot at the snack table—right beside Gia, caramel-colored arm outstretched; hand poised to grab the only cinnamon sugar donut. She’d painted her short fingernails bright green. That was new.
“Nope.” Gia raised an insulated cup in a cheers motion. “Protein shakes and vegetables for me.”
Roxi leaned in and sniffed the mug, which contained Gia’s double-chocolate mocha green goddess concoction. It smelled like a pasture.
“What the hell? Where’s Gia? Who’s thischicawith her protein shake andvegetables?” Roxi grabbed the donut she usually fought for and nibbled. A touch of cinnamon lingered on her lips, which were washed with a neutral-colored lipstick once again.
“It’s for climbing,” Gia grabbed a few pieces of celery and two baby carrots and dropped them on a bright red plastic plate, then added a dollop of a pasty-looking dip for good measure. Hummus? Sure, let’s say it was hummus. Whatever it was, the plate looked like a three-year-old’s art project.
“Since when does climbing mean no eating?”
“Since there’s a competition coming up. The coach wants me to add muscle and lose fat. And quit drinking.”
