Chapter 8
Brian looks at me with his eyes wide open. "Are you serious?"
"Yes." My reply comes out too fast. "Or no. I don't know." My fingers run through my hair, a physical expression of my confusion.
He scoots closer to me and places a hand on my knee. "You don't have to do it. Not just because my depressed ass is feeling insecure."
I sigh unintendedly. "Oh, you have such an amazing ass."
The smallest of chuckles leaves his lips, not quite reaching his eyes, but lighting up the mood nonetheless. "It is a really good ass, huh?" His question is rhetorical, so I don't bother in replying. "My trainer has an obsession with giving me leg and butt workouts. It's so annoying."
An unintelligible noise comes from my mouth as a form of agreement. "Bitch, isn't leg day the worst day in the history of days?!"
For a moment we forget about the issue at hand, about all our repressed desires, and direct our conversation to exercises and workouts we like to do the most and those we simply can't stand. He tells me stories about sore muscles not letting him drive back home, and I share how my flexibility comes in handy for the use of certain machines. He asks me about yoga and the power it has over weight loss, and I point out all the different energies that come into play. Before we know it, the clock on the wall is about to reach the number twelve. The dark embracing the city outside confirms it's not precisely noon.
"Okay, okay, truth or dare?"
This is about the third time he brings the game back up, even when I've told him I'm so over it. Doing it again would be pointless. It's better to simply go with the flow. I do want to think about my answer, though. I'm not sure if we can stand jumping back into revealing our deepest thoughts and feelings. To switch things up a little, I pick dare. Luckily, I am rewarded with a simple task of doing fifteen push ups, which I do with no problem.
I sit back down wiping the sweat off my forehead with my forearm. "Now, it's my turn. Truth or dare?"
He takes a moment to pick, most likely going through the same mental process I did a moment ago. Unlike me, though, he choses truth.
"What is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you at the gym?"
"Oh, oh! You are never going to believe this." His hands fly in the air as something closer to excitement fills his features. "I threw up while squatting!"
The loud laughter that takes over my body doesn't ask for permission to come out. "Wha-what?"
"Oh, bitch. Lemme tell you. I had a bar on my shoulders. You know on that thing with, like, rails at the end so you don't rock back and forth." His explanation comes out more like a question, almost checking if I know what he's talking about.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, a Smith machine."
"Well, I was on that thing with waaaay too much weight. Thinking 'oh, yeah, I'm a fucking skinny legend. I can totally do this.' No, bitch! Turns out..."
"You couldn't!"
"I couldn't. Every time I went back up I felt like the air was burning my lungs and I just couldn't breathe. Of course, I was fucking determined to finish the set. And then, on the last one, I went down and, as soon as I tried to stretch my knees again, gross vomit everywhere."
There's nothing I can do to stop my laughter. My feet kick the air but he remains serious. His hands are extended in front of him, motioning where the vomit landed. He stays frozen like that, his face motionless. A complete contrast of my extremities flailing all over the place. There's a scream-like laugh coming from him as he becomes unfrozen and throws himself back on the couch.
"What's yours?" he asks, pushing a piece of gum into his mouth. Where did the other one go? Did I swallow it when we kissed? I don't think I did.
"Hmm. I don't know. I have no shame, nothing is really embarrassing for me."
"Oh, c'mon. There must be something that made you at least uncomfortable."
I shake my head no, my bottom lip popping out as I think. His eyes immediately glue to my pouting lips, but I try not to make too much of it, to ignore the burning feeling of his intense stare.
Suddenly a memory hits me. "Oh! Oh! Bitch! Oh! Okay, so this one time, I had... oh... I had mixed so many 'uppers' that I couldn't contain myself. You know I'm naturally hyperactive, with all that shit in my system I was uncontrollable. So I figured I could exhaust my body, or at least sweat out all the chemicals, so I went to the gym."
"What time was this?" he asks, an amused smile painted on his features.
My face contorts as I pretend to remember. "Maybe like two in the morning? I don't know. It was late."
"Was the gym opened?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. It was the one on Sunset. That's opened twenty-four hours."
"Okay."
Small chuckles suddenly lace my speech as more memories reach my mind. "I was wearing a wig. Bitch, I was wearing a wig!" That last statement is more to myself, even when my hand is slapping his leg. "No make up, no dress, no nothing, just a stupid wig. Wait, I think I put on a little make up. Can't remember. There was this guy. Oh, my god. He was so hot. So hot." I get a hold of Brian's arm and squeeze hard, trying to physically express just how much I mean my words. "There was nobody around so we took our little personal work out to the bathroom. He had such a beautiful dick. Oh, I could have sucked him for hours. Hours!" The images filling my mind are making my mouth water. "Just when he's about to come, some dumb bitch decides to walk in on us."
He gasps exaggeratedly. "The nerve!"
"Right?!" That's when I notice his sarcasm and realize he's so not into my story. "Anyways. He freaks out, wig flies into the urinal, cum falls on my eye, I'm blind, we get banned from the gym." I shrug, ending my story as quickly as possible so he doesn't have to endure my rambling anymore.
Just as I'd predicted, he is not interested in the tale and dwells on the smallest of details. "What type of wig was it?"
"What?"
"You were working out, it couldn't have been a big one. Was it in a ponytail?" He is lost in thought, not really talking to me, but trying to put the pieces together.
"Bitch, what does it even matter?"
His eyes finally meet mine. "I'm just trying to figure out how you could get a trick with just a wig."
"Oh, Momma. Don't you ever doubt my seductive skills."
A side smile takes over his lips as an idea dawns on him. "Okay, truth or dare? Dare? Perfect." Once again he talks to himself, not waiting for me to answer his questions. "I dare you to seduce me with nothing but a wig on and minimal makeup."
Excitedly, I start jumping on my seat. "Oh, you are on, you stupid cunt."
His head bobs side to side as his infamous Ru's impersonation takes over. "Katya, you have five minutes to get into quick drag and give me... a boner. Go!" His index fingers indicate my time has started running and I can do nothing but bolt to my room to get ready.
