The Grind

Chapter 17

Once I got inside to join the others, I found them all huddled on the foamy, red rubber wrestling mat that spanned over half the room. Probably planning my demise. I dropped my duffle and belongings off in the ladies locker room on the way, and downed a lukewarm bottle of water, then with a sigh of heavy, anxious breath, I made my way to boot camp.

"Alright, chick. You good to go?" Tia was the first to speak, and I hesitated to find the right response.

"Uh, I think so? But, by the looks of you three conniving little shits, I'm not sure." I replied as I began the series of pre-workout stretches they'd shown me.

"Willow is gonna start out with some really, really basic stuff with ya'. Simple kicks, some jab patterns, and there's a fairly easy little takedown I want to try to show you, too. Sound like a plan, Elliott?"

"Yes, ma'am. Let's get it going!" I loosened up my stiffening neck from side to side.

"That's the enthusiasm, I like to see! Let's get it on!" Willow clapped with me a firm hand to the shoulder, then proceeded to lightly massage over both my blossoming trap muscles, encouraging a calmness over me.

I spent over 6 hours in the gym that day. Not only because it was Saturday, and I sadly had nothing better to do, but I was enjoying myself. Not so much however, the tender slash drying up on my right cheekbone from the obvious perfectly executed take down move that my overzealous friend had gone over with me. The crew wasn't taking it lightly with me, but they also weren't laughing me off the mats when I so clearly didn't belong there, stammering and stumbling around for majority of the lessons. Willow reassured me not squander my progress so quickly, and that she had been very pleasantly surprised at the talent of my technique.

"I think your background with basketball is definitely behind the skill of your footwork, Liv. You've definitely got that natural-born athleticism in ya'."

In spite of how flattering their compliments were, I still felt like a flopping fish out of water in this world. Their world. The Muay Thia, Jiu Jitsu combinations hadn't been a total shit show, thankfully, and I felt fairly good about some of the little jabs I had countered with Tia, but that creeping doubt still swam through me. What the hell was I trying to prove? Was I doing this to feel closer to.. him? There wasn't a shadow of doubt that Tia and the others wouldn't let me get myself seriously injured, and I figured they must not see me as a total waste considering the countless hours of training they were walking me through, so I kept trucking along. Nursing the glimmering flame of excitement and the thrill of fighting that had ignited in me.

Willow sent me off to the showers with a swift smack to the rear, laughing at the wince it elicited out of me. The next afternoon would be the birthday celebration Tia had so, so, SO persistently insisted on throwing, with my actual big day falling on the Independence holiday on Monday. I painfully wondered if I'd even have the legs to move from my bed to the shower when I woke up the following morning, much less paint on a stupid, dopey party grin.

The Sunday sun had risen, along with my dead to the world slumbering body. I still smelled the lingering aroma of the lavender medicinal salts I had soaked in the day before. Once the moment I reached the apartment, and again directly before bed, hoping to maybe get some painless hours of sleep. Before I even assessed my pain level, I moved only an arm to reach for the bottle of anti-inflammatories I had brought to bed with me, knowing no doubt when I did muster the energy to make the move towards the bathroom, I'd run face first into the cement wall of soreness.

I stepped every so gingerly off the side of my heightened bedside, desperately needing to release the gallons of water I had drank the previous day per Tia's instruction. Glancing instinctively towards the medicine cabinet mirror over the sink, I grimaced dreadfully at the bulbous cut that had slightly bruised overnight. Tia's elbow tag to my face connected lightly, however directly on the bulging point of my cheekbone. After relieving myself, I flushed and leaned down to turn the bath handle, opening the spout, only not turning the knob much past the coolest temperature. If I was expected to rub elbows with Tia and the rest of my party guest list, I'd need to pull out all of the first aid stops for sore, tight muscles. After pouring the chilly mop bucket filled with ice to the brim into the already clear, glacier like bath water, I stepped over the side one foot at a time, sucking deep breaths to help adjust to the goosebumps multiplying over my body.