Chapter 35
Dimes
Zoey
How did we get talked into this again?” I demanded through gritted teeth as I lunge-walked my way across Story Lake’s gym. It was smaller and significantly less bougie than any of the Manhattan gyms I had ever stepped foot in, but it turned out that the physical torture was the same.
“I think it might have been my fault. I said something to Laura about wishing I had her arms for my wedding, and here we are,” Hazel panted as she lunged next to me.
“I would hate you if you weren’t such a great person,” I said. My legs were trembling, and my vision was impaired by an infinite waterfall of sweat. And I was sore from yesterday’s sneaky, harder-than-it-looked Lakercise class with Opal.
“To be fair, you said something along the lines of ‘Exercise is good for my brain. I will join you.’”
“I know you can go lower than that, ladies,” Laura’s personal trainer barked behind us.
Manuel “Manny” de la Cruz was buff and bronze with the kind of smile that could light up entire stadium-size venues. However, that affable charm disappeared the second the workout started.
“He was so nice when we got here,” I whined.
“At least the whole ‘unnaturally handsome’ thing didn’t go away. We’ll have a nice view for the last few minutes of our lives,” Hazel pointed out.
“Who carries around weighted vests ‘just in case’ anyway?” I complained.
Hazel managed a smirk and a wheeze. “You’re just mad because you thought you’d get out of weighted walking lunges with a broken wrist. When can you take the brace off?”
“Not until after Reader Weekend despite my best attempts at bribing Dr. Ace. I’m officially adding Manny to my People I Hate list.”
“How many are you up to now?” Hazel asked.
“Gwendolyn Murphy. Jim, of course.”
“Of course,” she agreed.
“Nina Evil Pants from Dominion.”
“She’s the worst.”
“And now Manny the Meanie.”
“Moody, you’re not doing yourself any favors half-assing these lunges. Either shape up or you both do another set,” Manny announced to the entire gym from where he was spotting Laura’s chest presses, which she was rocking from a sporty low-backed wheelchair.
“Please shape up. I don’t want to die before my wedding,” Hazel begged.
“I’m officially deducting handsome points,” I hissed.
We made it to the opposite end of the gym and collapsed against the wall.
“Take thirty,” Manny said, reracking Laura’s weights.
“Minutes?” Hazel asked hopefully.
“Years?” I added.
“Seconds,” Manny corrected.
We groaned and sagged against each other in a sweaty heap.
“I can’t believe we paid money to have someone murder us,” I said.
“You two are whining worse than my brothers,” Laura said as she wheeled herself toward the squat rack, looking energetic and dewy. “I thought for sure you’d be less annoying than them.”
“There’s probably significantly less farting, so that’s a point in our favor,” I reminded her weakly as I mustered the strength to line up my water bottle with my face.
“Gloves,” Manny said.
With one hand, Laura snatched the fingerless workout gloves he tossed her out of the air.
“Show-off,” he teased.
She snorted and slipped on the gloves while he set up the bar above her. “Please. You’re the one practically blowing kisses to yourself in the mirror.”
Manny chuckled. “Sounds to me like you’re checking out my form.”
“You wish,” Laura shot back.
He ruffled her blond hair with one massive hand.
“What did I tell you about messing up my hair, you bald barbarian?” Laura snarled.
Hazel made a humming noise. “Is it my dehydrated imagination or are they—”
“Flirting?” I filled in for her.
“Show me what you got today, Guns,” Manny said to Laura as she gripped the bar overhead with both hands.
“That’s definitely a cutesy nickname,” Hazel observed.
“I love this for h—oh my God!” I squeaked as Laura executed a pull-up in her wheelchair.
Hazel shoved her bangs out of her eyes in disbelief. “Did she just do a pull-up?”
“And now she’s doing another. And another one.” We watched as Laura pumped out five in a row.
“Come on, Laur. Give me one more. I got your back,” Manny encouraged, spotting her from behind.
Her jaw was tight as her sweat-slicked muscles strained to pull her up. With a grunt, her chin crested the bar again.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Manny barked as she lowered back down.
“One. More,” Laura rasped, still gripping the bar.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I began. “What if she gets hurt?”
“Only if you’re a hundred percent sure,” Manny said. “You sure you got one more in you?”
“Fuck yes,” she growled, adjusting her hold.
“Then let’s do this. I got your back. Pull, baby. Pull!” Manny’s voice echoed through the place. Every gym goer in the building had stopped to watch.
Hazel and I managed to climb back to our feet as Laura fought against gravity, against the weight of her chair, and pulled with all her might.
“Come on, Laura,” I yelled, grabbing Hazel’s arm.
Every muscle in her back was shaking with the effort, her arms seemingly stuck at ninety degrees.
“Pull, girl!” a woman on the treadmill behind us called.
“You fuckin’ got this, Upcraft,” Quaid bellowed from a nearby weight rack.
Laura let out what sounded like a battle cry and dragged herself the last four inches to the bar. To victory.
The gym erupted in cheers. Towels were tossed, water squirted, and for a moment, pandemonium reigned. And in the middle of it all, Laura rolled her eyes and gave the beaming Manny a celebratory fist bump.
“Badass, baby,” he said.
“Oh, he definitely wants to kiss her,” Hazel whispered.
As if his personal trainer radar had been activated, Manny glanced in our direction. His dimples disappeared.
“Uh-oh,” I said.
“You done whining, ladies?”
Hazel nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir.”
“I will never whine again,” I promised fervently.
“So that was pretty awesome,” I said as I huffed and puffed on the treadmill.
“Yeah. I’m aiming for ten by the end of the summer,” Laura said nonchalantly from the adaptive rower next to me.
From the rower next to Laura, Hazel gave me a thumbs-up. We were supposed to be finishing off our torturous workout with fifteen minutes of Manny-prescribed cardio.
“You and Meanie Manny…” I began as I reduced the speed on my treadmill.
“Ha. He’ll love that,” Laura puffed out.
Hazel sent me a look that roughly translated to “you ask her because we’re about to be family and I don’t want to piss off the woman who just did seven pull-ups with the added weight of her wheelchair.”
“He’s obviously into you.”
Laura fumbled her next pull and nearly dropped the handle. “Excuse me?” she said in a terrifying voice.
“You’re joking,” I said. “Oh my God. You’re not joking. You had no idea.”
Laura’s head swiveled around to Hazel, who winced and nodded. “I mean, it’s super obvious,” she said.
Laura resumed rowing…and scowling. “No,” she announced. “No! I mean…no!” She stopped again.
I took it as an invitation to slow the treadmill to a crawl. “He calls you Guns and baby. He looks at you like you’re some sexy goddess of war. And if you didn’t have an audience watching your athletic prowess, I am a thousand percent sure he would have kissed you in the heat of the moment.”
“No,” Laura said again.
“You were flirting back,” I pointed out.
“No! I wasn’t! Was I? I don’t even know how to flirt.”
“Trust me, Laura. I’m a literal expert at chemistry, and you two have an explosion on your hands,” Hazel said.
Laura shook her head so hard her blond pompadour flipped to the opposite side. “No. He’s just training me. I’m not in any headspace for…anything.”
“Not to completely overstep but I’m totally going to anyway. Are you in any ‘body space’ for anything?” I asked.
“She’s asking if you want to have sex with him,” Hazel translated.
“I know what she’s—no. I mean…well. No. I haven’t been with anyone since Miller. I wouldn’t even know how to date another man, let alone…”
“Boink his brains out?” I offered helpfully.
Laura shoved her hair back to the correct side. “I guess he is objectively hot.”
“So hot,” Hazel and I said in unison.
“God. I never thought I’d be in this fucking position,” Laura said, taking a swig from her water bottle. “Me and Miller. It was supposed to be forever. I loved him since I was a kid. I don’t know how to not be with him.”
“How did you know Miller was the one?” Hazel asked.
Laura studied her water bottle. “I guess there were a million reasons. He was stupidly gorgeous.”
“I’ve seen the pictures. I can confirm,” I agreed.
“He was an exceptional athlete. So damn strong. He was always nice to his parents, even when he was a teenager. He was so serious and responsible, but he also had the best sense of humor.”
Miller sounded a lot like Gage to me.
“And that confidence.” Laura let out a rough laugh.
“We met when he came in the general store and I was running the register. I gave him his change, and he flipped a dime back to me with this ridiculous wink. He told me to keep it as a reminder of the perfect ten I just met. Every time we came across a dime, he would toss it to me and wink. To this day, every dime reminds me of him.”
Holy shit.
The pieces fell into place. Gage hiding something on the floor at Laura’s house. Him sneaking something into the hood of her sweatshirt at the lake. The literal bowls of dimes he kept in his house. Gage Bishop was reminding his sister that she wasn’t alone in the smallest, most heartbreaking way.
As the realization bloomed in my chest like acid reflux, I lost control of my body and tripped on the treadmill. My tailbone and hip took the brunt of the unceremonious landing as the belt continued to revolve without me.
“You okay there?” Laura asked.
“Ugh. No,” I whimpered.
I was in love. And it was officially the worst thing ever.