A different kind of girl {Book One}

Disappear

It's an old used garage that they've transformed into a gym. Mats on the floor, mirrors, gym gear (punching bags, treadmills etc.) and a kitchen area with a smoothie maker and large fridge. John walks over to the kitchen first and grabs a lot of fruit out the fridge.

"How long as it been since you worked out?"

"Since you trained me in the subway," I reply as I start touching different items, trailing my fingers along it. John has been training in here with Jed for months. How is that possible? No wonder he's in such good shape. And drinking fruit shakes as well. John is a super machine. Jed knew what he was doing.

"Right, we'll start with getting you fit because eating pancakes and Chinese isn't very healthy." I laugh, I find it very healthy and very scrumptious, so why stop? I like my food and I like my weight. "To be what Jed wants, you have to do this. Now, fill up this water bottle," he chucks it at me. "And then we'll go running." Just thinking of the word tires me out.

-

-

-

Two hours later I'm lying on the mats drowning in sweat while he is sitting at the bar with his fruit shake. He wouldn't let me stop. By halfway, I was dying and he kept pushing me till we got back to the garage where I flopped onto the floor and died. Basically. I don't know how he kept going, and look at him, he's just sitting there all high and mighty. I hate him.

"If looks could kill Rachael," he sighs. I drag myself to the kitchen, grip the drink he has poured for me and lean against the cupboards. That's the last of my energy. "Come on, it wasn't that bad."

"It actually was. I'm dying. I'm just gonna fall asleep." I close my eyes for a second, or what feels like a second but when I wake up, I'm lying in our bed with the covers tucked over me. He brought me home. Everything is aching when I move, my arms are shaking when I lift them up, and my legs cause shooting pains whenever they move, even slightly. I knew running was a bad idea. I even warmed up too. Stupid John thinking I can get fit. I hate him.

"And good morning to you." I throw the pillow at him, and the pain is totally worth it. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," I say firmly then hug myself into the covers.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I was running two hours yesterday because an arse said so and didn't give me a break."

"I have to be tough." I feel the bed sink rather close to me and I consider kicking him, but I don't want to cause any more pain to myself. Frankly, he's not worth it. He starts massaging my back, his hands firm, squeezing tightly and sending impulses through my back. It hurts but it's soothing in a weird sort of way. It helps release my muscles. He moves further down my body and by the end my body is all tingly and painless.

"Thanks." I sit up and pull my hair out of my ponytail and let it fall down my shoulders. He trails his fingers up my bare arms. "You took my clothes off."

"You were covered in sweat. I couldn't let you sleep in that." I'm wearing one of John's shirts.

"Is dad back?" I try to listen for him typing or the TV or a phone call but apart from the noise of car horns outside, it was silent. Maybe he's at another meeting.

"No, he'll be back around three," he replies then stands up and starts rummaging through the closet for clothes for me.

"Can I go out to get some new toiletries?" I ask him. I stretch when I stand up and then take the clothes. "Come on, it's personal," I try to convince him. If he had his way, I'd never leave the house but I am my own person and I will be leaving on my own one way or another.