Three Hearts

Chapter Two - Real and Fake Monsters

Sam racks her dumbbells with trembling arms and marks her progress in her phone. She heads to the corner of the gym,unfurls a yoga mat, and stretches out her burning muscles.

After an altercation with some overconfident dude-bro four months ago, Sam has been working out in the mornings before school rather than in the evenings. At first, waking up at 4:30 AM was a chore, but she soon discovered that it gave her plenty of time to get her brain into gear; the mind can only do some many things that early in the morning, and luckily, picking up heavy weights over and over is one such task it handles excellently.

Now, she prides herself as a member of the informal 5 AM Club, joining the bodybuilding hopefuls and semi-professional athletes that do their work and get out without wasting anyone else's time. Her cool down routine complete, she heads to the locker room for a quick shower.

She hits the streets as the 7 AM Club files into the gym—a less prestigious group filled with workers getting off the night shift and business professionals that don't want to wake up before sunrise. Not a bad lot, but people that Sam feels unwarranted superiority to nevertheless.

She enjoys the quiet stroll to school, taking unpopulated side streets and making note of interesting landmarks she may visit later. This short walk provides the creative fuel for most of her day. Her mind always races after a workout which allows her to easily slip into a daydream she can later transfer to her sketchbook.

She passes a quaint antique store and notices a black mass inside barreling toward the front door. She stops to watch a rottweiler puppy pounce on the glass door and bark up a storm. She grins, takes out her phone, and kneels in front of the overexcited pup as it slobbers and scratches like mad.

She snaps several pictures, only stopping when the store's apparent owner collects the dog and gives a friendly nod to Sam. Sam nods back. She walks off while checking her pictures with a warm smile.

A near miss with a telephone pole convinces Sam to pocket her phone and keep her eyes forward. She pulls a protein shake from bag, something to keep her sated until lunch. She sips her shake and rounds a corner, spotting her school a few blocks ahead. She picks up the pace, eager to sit down and draw before class.

Sam walks through the halls without hassle as the seas of students part for her. Thanks to her resting bitch face, muscular build, and a few very infamous fights her freshman year, Sam has earned—or, more accurately, been given—a reputation that keeps her well isolated. She pays little mind to the conversations that deliberately pause as she passes.

She cuts through the courtyard at the center of campus. The morning air is still quite cool, and it would be a shame to waste the good weather by walking around indoors. She slows down, enjoying this last bit of calm before re-entering the noisy halls.

Ahead of her, under a tree with several other girls, sits the silver-haired waitress Sam had passed by the previous day. Now that the silver-haired girl isn't sprinting past her, and with her mind caught an artistic fervor, Sam takes in every detail she can of the girl.

Sam finds it would be more fitting to call the girl "adorable" than "hot." Her soft features, big eyes, and confidently-worn pudge add to her warm, inviting aura that even stone-cold Sam can't resist.

Suddenly, the waitress girl turns her head, and her eyes lock with Sam's for a moment. Sam quickly looks away, and hurries toward the double doors ahead. She bursts into the building, scaring a few freshmen that were chatting beside the entrance.

Finally making it to her near-empty classroom, she throws herself in her chair at the back of the room. She fights to keep her mind focused as she rips her sketchbook and pencils from her bag.