Complexes (LGBT) (boyxboy)

chapter 13

Chapter 13

No matter how much pain was coursing through my legs, I didn't stop running, not for even a second.

My body was bathed in sweat and had been for the past hour that I was running on the treadmill. The gym had practically been my home for the past couple of days. I barely left, but why would I need to? I had to get my head back in the game somehow and working myself harder and harder each day was how I was going to do it. It was early morning and not many people were here.

It was college so the average student wouldn't get up this early just to exercise. It just so happened I was friends with one of the least average people on campus, and in he walked, much to my surprise.

Lucas, wearing his own exercise gear, came into the building. I glanced at the door from where I was running. Why would he be here? I didn't think he liked the gym. He came straight over to me and in my own egotistical way I jumped to the conclusion that he was here for me. "Hey, thought I'd find you here," he said from directly in front of me.

He was distracting me. I slowed down a fraction, but quickly caught back up with myself. "What...are you...stalking...me...?" I said in between heavy breaths. "Some people stalk people in stairwells.

Some stalk people in the gym," he said with a cheeky smile. He had a point there. I went out of my way to join him in the stairwell so I guess I couldn't really judge if he was stalking me too. He jumped up on the treadmill next to mine and set it to whatever level he wanted, then began running next to me.

This wasn't what I needed. I didn't need a distraction like him. "Why...are you...here...I thought...you...preferred...the stairs?" I labored out.

Talking and running at the same time was exhausting. My throat hurt as I tried to take in more air than I could. "Well, I was just passing by and figured you might be in here because of what your dad said at the game the other night," he said. "I'm not here...because of my dad," I said quickly.

My legs were burning at this point, but I couldn't stop.

I promised myself to add on an extra half an hour every day until the next game and I still had a few minutes left. "Okay...sure," he said like he didn't believe me. I ignored his slightly judgmental tone.

He ran beside me, quickly getting to my speed, but it didn't seem to affect him at all. Then again, why would it? He's only been running for a minute. "How long have you been running for?" he asked. "A bit...over...an hour," I breathed. "Your dad's wrong, ya know? You're plenty fit," he said. "I told you...I'm not here...because of him," I said. It was a lie, sort of.

Sure, my dad pushed me to get into shape, but I was here because I needed to be. I needed to step up my game so I could keep my soccer scholarship. We stopped talking and I stared straight ahead so I could focus. I imagined I was on the soccer field and had to get to one of the ends to beat the team, but I wasn't good enough. I was never fast enough, unlike the person next to me who could run so effortlessly.

My sides ached. My legs felt like jelly, but also like they were about to cramp up at and second. I could barely breathe and as much as I didn't want to stop, I had to for a second. I jumped up on the sides that weren't moving and latched onto the handles.

I gasped for air desperately. My feet hurt. My legs hurt. My chest hurt, but I still wasn't done. "Are you alright?" Lucas asked. I looked over at him, nodding. "Yeah...just...just leave me alone...please," I said.

I regained my composure and slowed the treadmill down so I could start running again, and I did, starting off easy before gradually making the machine go faster. "Maybe you should give it a break for a while," he said, but I didn't listen to him.