Skinny Boy ✔

Chapter 2: for better or for worse

I'm pretty sure we can all agree on one thing being true to pretty much all of us: the things we are eager to start are things we believe will make a change--a change for the better. It's quite difficult to think of things we've poured loads of our precious time and hard earned money into that we were hoping would change our lives for the worse. 

But I'm sure that you and I both can easily pluck from our memories things that we've done thinking they will change us or our ways of living for the better, only for our plans to go to hell in a hand basket. 

There have been countless things that I've done in my life to make myself look like a screw up, and made me look like my plans were those of a fool. Going to the gym was not one of those things. 

Well, not at first, that is. 

The first week with my gym membership, which I had to wait until the start of the next month to get, was a time fueled by ambition. The soreness in my muscles after the first days gave me a sense of hope to get through the two days of rest and recovery I took. It was hope that it was working, because the tenderness I felt was evidence that I was getting used to that amount of activity. My muscles were only sore because they were tearing so I could get bigger--at least, that's what I read happens on an article I found when looking up tips to stop muscle soreness. 

Even if my friends couldn't notice the change in my physique quite yet, they did notice the slight change in my lifestyle later that week. 

Our little gang of friends was sitting outside for lunch, munching away on sloppy joes and swatting away flies, when Henry proposed we go see a new movie that she'd been dying to see. Her eyes lit up as she began naming a few facts that she heard about it, hoping to get us as excited as she was (though her efforts only made her more excited, and we were just as unaffected as we were to begin with). 

She finally turned to us for our answers, and I was the first to give one. "It depends on the time, I might have something planned," I said a little too proudly. I'll admit, fishing for people's attention and grabbing their curiosity by the neck is a guilty pleasure of mine. There's just something about people asking about you rather than simply giving away the facts. 

They all gave me curious looks, to which I continued, "I wanted to spend a little extra time at the gym this Saturday." 

Garret almost choked on his food at those words. Having known me since we were wee little children, he understood that I was not the kind of person to run on my own will unless I had a good reason. But now, I finally saw a huge reason to begin working out: and that was a desire for a huge change. "Since when do you go to the gym?" he said through chuckles. 

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "Since last week." 

He raised his brow up against his scalp. "Okay then," he said, eyeing our friend Sandra from the corner of his eye. He said nothing more of it. 

"Well, let us know when you're done with your little cross fit charades, and then we'll talk," Sandra said.

My jaw clenched. "I'm serious about this!" I probably shouldn't have taken as much offense to that as I did, but it felt like no one was taking me seriously. No one ever did. That was another reason I needed a change. I needed for people to take me more seriously.

"Hun, no one ever follows through with a gym membership," she persisted. "C'mon now, the day I actually go to the gym is the day my ass isn't Latina. Not gonna happen."

"Well," Henry cut in before this could escalate, "maybe he's just trying to get into a good habit."

I know Sandra was trying to be lighthearted, but I was serious, looking her straight in the eye to get my point across. "Oh, I'm going to stick to this. You just watch me."