Breaking the Grid

Sick

It had been exactly one hour and seventeen minutes.

I knew, because I'd checked the time on my phone after minute five, then again around minute twenty, and from then on it became a sort of personal torture to track the relentless, dumb commitment of the two idiots now dominating Elisabetta's garden like it was an Olympic qualifying event.

I was laid out on one of the white lounge chairs beside the pool, a cap hat shielding most of my face, but nothing could block the sound of Blair's grunts of determination or Kimi's deep, steady breathing as they both swung from the metal bar like two shredded monkeys.

To be fair, the gym zone Betta had installed in her garden wasn't normal.

There was turf grass under the pull-up rig, dumbbells that could bench-press a horse, a sleek treadmill, kettlebells, resistance bands, boxing bags... and of course, a water fountain that Blair kept using to splash herself like she was in a Nike ad.

It all screamed Kimi.

But today... it was Blair's domain.

"She's not stopping," I muttered, sipping slowly from my iced tea, eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

Betta, lounging beside me with her Kindle, chuckled without looking up. "Why are you surprised? That girl's more competitive than Kimi."

"Questionnable" I said.

"Oh really?" she grinned, tilting the screen of her Kindle so I could see it. "She literally challenged him to 'most push-ups in twenty minutes' when we got here. Who even wants that kind of smoke?"

I glanced back toward the gym zone. Kimi was bent forward, catching his breath.
Blair stood above him, arms flexed from the pull-ups she'd just done, smirking so hard I could see it from here.

I let my eyes wander over her—sweat glistening along her collarbone, her hair up in a bun with strands falling everywhere, a pair of navy shorts and a tight black sports bra making her look like she belonged in an Under Armour commercial.

Honestly, if she wasn't a driver, she'd either be training Navy SEALs or running some underground fitness cult. Probably both. And I'd be her most tired, willingly recruited victim.

"She's gonna be sore for three days," she commented, clicking to the next chapter.

Then it happened.
Kimi gripped the pull-up bar again, gave it his all, got to twenty... and his arm gave out.
He dropped with a sharp thud onto the turf and lay there, arms spread, groaning like a man who'd just seen God.

Blair nearly cried from laughing.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" she called out between laughs, not even attempting to hide her amusement.

"I'm fine," Kimi wheezed from the ground. "Just—my pride—leave it here."

Blair walked over, still giggling, and offered him a hand. When he took it, she pretended to help, then deliberately wobbled and collapsed next to him, causing both of them to erupt in tired, breathless laughter.

I shook my head, smiling despite myself.

"Two dumbs," I said aloud.

She chuckled. "Name of their future podcast, maybe?"

Blair was still lying on the turf, hands behind her head now, breathing deep and staring up at the blue Italian sky.
I saw her chest rise and fall, saw the happy, tired smile tugging at her lips.
Kimi elbowed her in the ribs, and she jabbed him right back, still grinning.