Cookie

15

"I can’t lift 10 kilograms with one arm, Liam. I’m going to break something…”

It’s only our second training session, and already, I feel like I’ve made a huge mistake. Liam hands me two dumbbells, each weighing 10 kilograms, and tells me to do something called a biceps curl. I have no clue what that is, but there he is, showing off—lifting 25 kilograms with each arm as if it’s no big deal. He tells me to pay attention to how his arms move so I can do the same. I roll my eyes as his already massive arm muscles tighten, looking even bigger than before.

“Now you’re just showing off,” I complain as he finishes his set. Instead of putting the weights down, he keeps them in his hands, clearly enjoying this.

Over the past few days, Liam has answered every question I could think of. He’s shared so much about himself that it feels like I’ve known him forever. I know how he broke his hand when he was eight, how he got grounded for two months after wrecking his dad’s car while trying to teach himself how to drive, and how he once tried to beat up his dad after overhearing his parents in a compromising situation. He’s told me so many stories from his past, and it’s strange to realize I’ve only known him for a week.

I’ve also learned random details about him—his favorite color is black (which, of course, he insisted is a color), and his favorite food is Hawaiian pizza, which I find revolting. Who puts pineapple on pizza? But I’ll admit that his obsession with Lord of the Rings makes up for his taste in pizza. He likes to read sci-fi, thrillers, and classic romance books, which is a strange combination in my opinion.

A bond is forming between us, and I trust him more and more each day. I look forward to seeing him at school each morning, to talking to him. I’ve even invited him and Kim, the girl he was kissing, to join me for lunch yesterday. It was actually fun. Logan teased Liam, and I chatted with Kim—she seemed nice, but I wasn’t trying to become best friends with her. I knew by the next break she’d be out of the picture.

“If you don’t get your ass on that bench and start lifting those weights right now, you’re going to be in serious trouble, cookie.”

His threat makes me laugh, but I listen to him anyway. I try to mimic the movements I’ve seen him do, but my arms feel like they’re going to snap off from the effort. The first set is torture, and Liam has to correct my form, making sure I keep my elbows still—apparently, moving them ruins the whole exercise. By the second set, it’s getting easier, and Liam returns to his own bench to continue his own workout. By the time I finish my last set, I feel like my muscles are made of jelly, but still, there’s a strange sense of accomplishment.

Of course, it doesn’t end there. Liam shows me another exercise, and another, and another. He doesn’t stop until every single muscle in my body is screaming. Did you know there are muscles around your neck? And that you use them all the time? Yeah, me neither. I didn’t realize I had so many muscles I was taking for granted.

“Why are you walking like that, Nat?”

I scowl at him, wishing I could have the power to kick his ass so badly that he’d be walking just like me for the next two weeks.

“I would punch you, but I know it would hurt me more than it would hurt you.”

“Does it hurt that bad?”

I nod, not understanding how 30 minutes of weight training could leave me in so much pain. Am I really that weak?

Liam steps up to me, taking my hand and guiding me over to a green sports mat laid out on the floor. He tells me to lie on my stomach and assures me it will make everything feel better. I do as he asks, hoping he’ll let me rest for the rest of my life.