The school's gym uniforms simply consisted of athletic shorts and T-shirts decked out in the school's colors of red, yellow, and orange, complete with its logo of a jackrabbit on the front, alongside socks and sneakers of each student's choice. And if you were female, or at least identified as such, then your top was sleeveless, and the entire outfit was skintight. To make things worse, I had neglected reordering my uniform between school years, completely glossing over the possibility of my body maturing as much as it did over the summer. And now I was forced into paying the price, for neither my top or my shorts would cover me completely.
Is this school TRYING to turn its gym into a haven for objectification?!
As I walked over to where the other students were gathered around Ms. Schumacher to take attendance, I tied my hair back into a ponytail with a flaccid yet durable strip of leather - the same one I'd used ever since I learned how to do it myself, and would continue to use even into the present day. Attendance didn't take nearly as long as it had during the previous three periods, and not just because of the lack of singling-out, but rather because Ms. Schumacher kept the class quiet and orderly with her firm, militaristic manner of speech - a complete 180 from her usual laid-back demeanor. Before we all knew it, everyone in the class dispersed all over the gym, some of them hurrying over to the workout machines, and others immediately making a beeline for the track that encircled the gym. A good chunk of me strongly considered telling the boys off for what they said about my mother and I in the locker room, but I shoved that urge to the back of my mind. No use making a scene about something like that.
Anyways, my first choice was to make use of the stationary bicycle - a machine I always preferred over those boring-ass treadmills. I managed to break five miles per hour, keeping my breathing steady for quite a while. I was always one of the more athletic kids in my class, participating in various sports ever since I was able to run, but stopping in 7th Grade, due to a dramatic increase in homework. Even so, I still continued to exercise outside of school in the years since, allowing me to maintain an impressive stamina and endurance, even if all my efforts didn't quite show on my body. Speaking of my body, just ten minutes into my biking session, I could feel prying eyes watching as my ass-cheeks and thighs moved rhythmically with the pedals. I didn't even need to look behind me to make sure of it, as a few male shadows were standing almost completely motionless within my peripheral vision. Looking behind me was definitely a no-no, for just one glance would strip me of my innocence and give the impression that I was showing off - not to mention my earlier concern about not drawing attention to myself.
Instead, I casually stopped the machine and climbed off, avoiding all eye-contact and not letting a single phoneme escape my Lipkit-covered orifice as I walked over to the massive, lobster-colored yoga mat. That particular section of the room was mostly empty, and the only students frequenting it were girls.
THAT oughta be a more suitable place!
I didn't hesitate to start doing various exercises (some with weights, some without), making sure to do twenty reps with each. My movements were all conventional, ranging from suicides, to lunges, to crunches, to even the iconic squats. And during all of these, I distinctly remember hearing the nearest workout equipment (which was mostly occupied by guys) shut off as their operators began to ogle me. Several masculine silhouettes walked by, some of them slowing down and even increasing in size as they passed me. Wanting to once again shrug off my embarrassment and annoyance, I vowed to back into a wall or corner, becoming one with the shadows and keeping my body in a place where I could not send out impulses for their occipital lobes to process. But alas, several other girls were already taking up those areas, probably with intentions that were extremely similar (if not identical) to mine. Groaning, I put my twenty-pounders back on the shelf and fast-walked over to the bench-press, pulling down on my shorts for the umpteenth time as I received even more tingles - telling me that the boys were still eyeing me like a hawk.
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The Puberty Diaries
Ficção AdolescenteTequila Rodriguez is a soon-to-be woman who is slowly wrapping up the war against her hormones. Even so, she is quick to realize that it isn't just her body that's permanently changed, but rather her entire world and the way she's treated and looked...
