Who You Say I Am (A Jai Courtney Fanfic)

Chapter 66-Jai

Jai

I rise early to go pick up Megan. She said not to shower first since I'm taking her to the gym. I do brush my teeth and check my appearance before I head out in joggers and trackie dacks with my coat over everything because Ohio is freezing. I step outside and... what the? It's kind of warm. Yesterday was probably below zero Celsius and it's probably over ten now. This is crazy. I hear water dripping off of the downspouts and there are puddles in the road.
I climb into my 4WD and take off my coat since I don't need it. I toss it into the backseat and decide to pick up some Maccas that I saw up the road. I pull in to the take away line and order coming around to pick up. I pass my card to the cashier and she stares at me.
"G'day," I smile.
"It's really you," she says holding my credit card.
"It's really me," I nod.
"I'm not getting pranked, am I?" she asks looking to either side of the window.
"No, I'm just getting brekky," I tell her.
"Breakfast. Right!" she says disappearing with my credit card.
I laugh and hope she brings it back. Several people join her at the window waving to me and one girl is screaming. I'm chuckling like crazy and I wave to them. The cashier eventually swipes my card and hands it back with my receipt. I thank her and I see her sticking her head out of the window in my rear view. I drive to the pick up window and there's a crowd of employees waiting to hand me my tucker. I laugh and realize this'll be something they'll all remember for the rest of their lives. When the lucky girl gets to pass me my bag and coffee, I decide to make her an offer.
"How about a picture?" I offer.
"What?" she asks disbelievingly.
"Anyone who wants to come out, I'll take a picture with them," I suggest.
She nods profusely and I pull into the closest spot in the car park. She—along with probably the whole staff and even a manager, I think—come out. The cashier is with them, too. I pose for a couple pictures with the whole lot of them and hand them my stack of pre-signed autographs. I get several hugs and a brave teenage girl kisses me on the cheek. I laugh and wave to them as I head out to pick up Megan. I see a line inside and out of the building and figure next time I should go in for take away. I eat on my way there and think this is probably the best Maccas I've had. I pull into Megan's driveway and get out to knock on her door.
She opens it smiling at me. "Are you hungry?" she asks.
"Nah, I'm good," I tell her.
"Oh, did you want to come in or just go out?" she asks.
"We can go work out," I say.
"Alright," she nods. I see her put on a light jacket and she steps out. I get a good look at her and she looks nice in workout duds.
We climb in to the 4WD and I drive off.
"What'd you eat?" she asks me.
"I got some take away," I say.
"Take out?" she questions.
I nod. "Where are we going?" I ask and hope I'm going the right way.
"Head towards your hotel and go over the bridge," she says.
"Can do," I nod.
"What kind of take out? There's not much around here," she comments.
"I grabbed some Maccas," I reply.
"McDonald's?" she confirms.
"Yeah," I grin.
"I feel like I've learned several new Australian words," she smiles. I chuckle. "Did they forget anything?"
"No," I respond. "It was probably the best there I've had in a while."
"Did they all recognize you?" she questions.
"Actually, the cashier thought I was pranking her," I laugh.
"Yeah?" she grins.
"They were pretty nice," I tell her.
"Everyone loves you," she smiles widely. I glance at her and can't help but be moved by how she speaks to me.
"Where to now?" I ask softly as we cross the picturesque bridge.
"The second street on the roundabout," she says.
"I'm surprised I haven't seen many of those in California," I tell her. "Probably because driving there is scary enough without another obstacle."
She chuckles at that. "I've heard stories," she nods. "Don't you drive on the other side of the road in Australia?"
"We do," I nod.
"So, Jamaica was more like home than here?" she inquires.
"With driving, yeah," I nod.
"Turn right up ahead. It'll be just after this hill," she says.
I start to slow down and I'm surprised how quick that turn was. She is pretty exact in her directions. I look to the fields as we drive and can't help but notice some large birds floating in a lake.
"Are those geese?" I ask.
"Yeah, Canadian Geese," she says laughing. "I guess the farmers' fields have already flooded."
"That's not a lake?" I chuckle.
"It'll probably be gone in a couple days," she says dismissively.
"Are they friendly?" I ask.
"The geese?" she questions. I nod. "No. They'll probably hiss at you. They're very aggressive and territorial. Well... unless you feed them. I've seen people feed them breadcrumbs before but you'd have to have a lot of food to feed them all. That'd be a scary sight to get in the middle of a hundred of them and not be able to feed every one of them."
"Yeah, and I thought the centipede was mean," I tease.
"You want a hundred geese pecking you to death?" she laughs. "I don't know why I just imagined Tris... but that was crows... and a weird fear."
I glance at her and realize how much of a fan she actually is. But she's a different kind of fan—a more reserved and soft spoken type. She's definitely not the screaming type. She's so different from anything else I've known and I just can't put my finger on what it is about her that draws me in so.
"Oh, turn left up here. Sorry. I wasn't paying attention," she says.
"That's fine. This looks like a main road so I can get my bearings," I reply. I see a bit of a shopping area nearby as I turn. We cross over a freeway and there's more take away restaurants over here.
"Make a left at the light," she says.
I do so and we're in a bit of an industrial setting. I see a sign coming up.
"Is that it?" I ask.
"No, that's for gymnastics only," she says. "It's a little further down near the neighborhood."
We cross over some railroad tracks and she's right. I see a neighborhood and the sign. I pull in to the car park.
We step out and walk in together. I still can't believe this weather. "Is it always like this?" I question.
"What?" she asks confused.
"The weather," I say.
She laughs, "Welcome to Ohio.  A forty degree jump isn't common but it's not exactly rare either. This is pretty much what it's like every spring and fall. I'm expecting more snow..."
"Not an early spring?" I question hopefully.
"Punxsutawney Phil didn't see his shadow. At least that's what I heard since we were in Jamaica," she says.
"What?" I ask completely lost.
"Ah, I have to explain Groundhog Day," she nods. "We should watch that movie. It'll be easier."
"Whatever you say, love," I agree since this holiday she's describing sounds confusing and strange.
We enter the double doors and she's immediately greeted with a hug from the woman at the desk.
"We've missed you. How've you been?" the woman asks.
"Um... lots of changes," she says shrugging.
"I bet. You're getting married this Saturday," the woman says excitedly.
"Actually, I'm not," Megan replies scratching her arm uncomfortably.
"Did you have to move it back again?" she questions.
"No. I called it off," Megan admits.
"What happened?" the woman asks concerned.
"I clocked out early on my last day since we had the party and I had no more clients. I went home to my apartment to find my fiancé in my bed with someone else."
"Oh, that's terrible. What an idiot! Was he trying to get caught?" she responds dumbfounded.
Megan doesn't respond.
"Well... at least you found out before the wedding," she says looking on the bright side.
"Yeah," Megan nods. There's silence between them for a moment. "Oh, I'm here to workout. I have a guest pass, too."
"Oh, sorry. I'd hate to keep you. I'm sure you just want to move on," she says. "Who's your friend?"
"Oh, this is Jai," she says introducing me and stepping aside. I finally see the women's face and her jaw has dropped and she's staring at me.
"G'day," I say reaching out my hand to shake hers. She does so in a daze.
I look to Megan and she's filling out a form. She looks back to her friend who's still gaping at me. "Are you okay, Rachel?" Megan asks her. She doesn't move. Megan walks across to the other side of the counter, scans her ID and enters something in the computer. "It was good talking to you," Megan says waving. "Come on," she says quietly to me.
I walk side by side with her down a hallway. We enter some stairs and climb them to the second level. There's a jogging track just past the entranceway with weights and machines beyond that.
"What do you want to do first?" Megan asks me.
"What's your routine?" I question.
"Jog for twenty to thirty, stretch, upper body weights Monday and Wednesday, lower on Tuesday and Thursday, full body on Friday, and Saturday is some sort of cardio only. I usually like to trail run—weather permitting," she explains.
"That explains the body," I blurt.
I see her blushing at that and I'm not so regretful of letting it slip.
"What about you?" she asks.
"Eh, I often hire personal trainers to figure things out for me. I've gone through so many of them. They've all been pretty good, though. I usually like to change things up a bit," I explain.
"So... what you're saying is I'm in charge?" she laughs.
"Lead the way," I say motioning her forward.
"Let's jog," she says and she bolts out in front of me. I follow behind and catch up. She looks to me smiling. I smile back. We make it around to the other side of the track and I see a swimming pool down below. There are people doing laps.
"This is a pretty nice gym you've got here," I tell her.
"They're all over the country," she tells me. "There might be one near your home."
"Maybe. I'll have to look that up," I say.
We continue jogging lightly around the track for a while and I feel like I'm adequately warmed up. We move on to stretching and I watch her get us some mats. We stretch out, me following her instruction. This is pretty nice. I'm usually doing the exercises by myself or with trainers telling me what to do, not usually alongside with someone. We put the mats away and move on to the weights. She goes to the free weights, not machines—which surprises me. Some of my trainers loved the machines, others a mix of both. I only had a few that were all about the free weights and they were the best, the ones I used to bulk up the most.
We begin on the weights. She lifts and demonstrates for me. Some I've done before, others are new. I actually find her correcting my form—even on one I'm familiar with—and I find that I'm getting a better workout than I'm used to.
"Make sure you don't overdo it on the weights. We could always lift a little less and work your way up. You want to make it through the entire workout and not tire yourself and have to quit early. You also don't want to hurt yourself if you're not lifting properly. Poor form can lead to injury," she advises me.
"I'll keep that in mind, love," I grin.
We move on to several other techniques. She actually assists me with the bench press and I'm surprised when she helps me raise it back up. She lifts significantly less than me on her turn but still an impressive amount for a sheila. She announces our last exercise and I do take her advice to lower the weight since I'm actually getting tired from this workout. Plus, I was lifting more to impress her. I know some people at the gym seemed astonished by what I was lifting—clearly not fans unless the beard threw them off.
"I figured we'd shower at home but we can use their facilities tomorrow if you want," she suggests.
"Alright," I nod.
"They have saunas, too," she tells me.
"Male and female?" I question raising an eyebrow.
"No," she laughs. "In the separate locker rooms."
I frown at that and she slaps me playfully on the chest. "Let's go," she says grabbing her jacket. I grab my discarded sweatshirt as well.
"Alright, but sitting in the sauna with you sounds better than with a couple of blokes," I say.
She chuckles. "Yeah, the sauna in a towel with strangers is a little weird for me. I'll admit I only go in it when it's empty," she confides.
"Why so shy?" I question curiously.
"Let's just say... that not everyone is comfortable showing their skin to the world," she tells me.
"Fair enough," I reply.
We head downstairs and she has us leave through the back door. She mentions something about how her co-worker's reaction made her uncomfortable—like she treated me as if I weren't human or something. That kind of touches me that she would say something like that. She really does think of me as an equal. I don't really get that kind of treatment except from other actors and it's still like a hierarchy between them all. It's like a clique or a popular club and I'm a somewhat newer member still trying to climb my way up the social ladder. I'm not there yet but hope to be someday.