Chapter 6
6
As Priya and I use our work-issued membership cards to gain entry to the gym, I’m almost surprised that they work, given that this is our first time scanning them. I’m surprised Rick hasn’t cancelled mine to save money, now that I know the way he sees me.
It’s a long time since I’ve been in a gym. You know what, it might even be when I was still at school – but I’ve seen them on TV, and in movies, and on Instagram and stuff. Still, nothing could have prepared me for what I’ve just walked into. I thought it would be more sportsy, that it would smell bad, that it would be full of sweaty people. This place is more like a nightclub. Everything is so sleek, chic and modern. Music is pumping, the lights are flashing, and it smells really nice. And then there are the people in here – stunning, every last one of them. I’m half expecting to see staff going round, handing out shots.
‘This place is unreal,’ I say to Priya, quiet enough that only she can hear me, but loud enough that she can hear me over the techno music. I can actually feel the bass, rumbling through my feet, as I take each step.
‘Yeah, who knew keeping fit was so… so… I don’t even have the words,’ she replies. ‘I wasn’t expecting lights or music – although I’m half expecting a smoke machine now.’
‘Perhaps they save that for the evening,’ I joke. ‘When the disco ball comes down.’
We pass row after row of treadmills, each with its own screen, all of them currently showing music videos, which is kind of trippy to look at. Then there are the bikes, those steppy machines that I am far too sedentary to be able to name, and then we get to the weights section.
A monstrously muscular man – I’m talking Mr Universe style – is roaring to himself as he lifts a barbell up and down, up and down, screaming with each lift. It’s hard not to pull a face. Honestly, it looks so unpleasant, he’s already buff as hell, and he doesn’t look like he’s having a very nice time. I’m certain he’s getting something from it, or why else would he do it, and I don’t judge him for being into it, what I’m saying is that, for me, it looks like my idea of hell. I also don’t think putting myself through something like this could possibly make me any better at my job.
‘Looks too much like hard work,’ Priya says quietly. ‘Surely it’s just an excuse to quite literally flex your muscles?’
‘I don’t suppose I can think of a better place to do it,’ I point out. ‘It would be pretty weird if he was doing it in the queue at Starbucks, or while he was at the dentist.’
‘I can see him now, delivering a eulogy at the front of a church, kissing his bicep,’ she jokes.
I snort.
‘I’m just saying, I’m not impressed by it,’ she explains. ‘And I can’t imagine who would be, watching someone struggle to lift something twice their size.’
Right on cue, I notice James and Liz up ahead. He’s lifting a dumbbell – not quite as heavy as the one we just saw, but enough to make him break a sweat. All of this might not impress Priya much, but I would be lying if I said it didn’t make the butterflies in my stomach go nuts as I watch James, noticing the way his muscles flex and ripple with each movement.
‘Right, let’s show our faces,’ I say to Priya as we approach them.
‘Okay, cool, just make sure you’ve finished drooling before we get there,’ she teases.
I try to shake it off, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment as I hastily (and probably over-theatrically) avert my eyes.
Neither of them notice us. James is too busy lifting weights and the only wait ing Liz is doing is looming over him, watching his every move.
Priya and I exchange glances, wondering if and when they will notice us.
‘Hey, guys,’ Priya says, interrupting… whatever this is.
Liz’s attention snaps away from James (something you can tell she isn’t happy about) as she turns to us, her surprise evident.
‘What on earth are you two doing here?’ she asks, sounding both genuinely shocked and incredibly suspicious.
‘Well, what do you think we’re doing, silly?’ Priya replies. ‘We’re here to work out, obviously.’
Sometimes I wonder what I would do without Priya around. It’s nice, having someone on my side, feeling like they always have my back. Especially when it comes to Liz, and James, when I’m desperately trying to keep things professional. Priya will say the things I’m too worried to say and she will often call out when she thinks Liz is taking things too far – something that, if I did, would probably only egg Liz on.
‘You two, though?’ Liz claps back. ‘I didn’t realise you guys even knew this place existed.’
‘I knew you cycled, Priya, but I didn’t realise you were into fitness too, Robin,’ James says, directing his attention towards me.
Funnily enough, the only fitness I’m into is just how fit James is.
I swallow hard, trying not to let my nerves get the better of me, but the butterflies feel like they’re multiplying now.
‘Oh, yeah, I’ve been getting more into it lately,’ I lie.
Well, it’s not totally untrue, is it? I’ve been getting more into it lately if lately means the last thirty minutes.
James nods approvingly. Oh my God, am I impressing him? I desperately need to not fuck this up.
‘It’s fun when you’re first getting going, and you’re trying to work out what you’re into,’ he tells me with a smile, and I need to get my mind out of the gutter.
One of the things that I like about him – other than him being really cool, devastatingly handsome, and impossibly charming – is the fact that he really cares about the things he cares about. His commitment to going to the gym is unwavering. He takes good care of himself, because he enjoys it, and he is happy to help anyone else who wants to try to get into it. He doesn’t care if I’m athletic or not, he just thinks it’s great that I want to be (even though, yes, technically I am only pretending that I want to be).
‘Weights,’ I say – and that one really is a lie. I don’t like weights of any kind, no matter how you’re spelling it.
‘Really? You’re into lifting weights?’ James asks, his eyebrows rising in surprise – but thankfully not disbelief – as he looks me up and down.
I nod keenly – a little too enthusiastically, perhaps.
‘Yeah, I’ve been all over it lately,’ I reply, trying to sound convincing. ‘I’m still starting out but I’m lifting more and more each day. It’s just so… it’s great, isn’t it?’
Silky smooth, Robin.
James gives me a curious look.
‘I know just what you mean,’ he says, which is lucky, because I don’t. ‘What do you like about it?’
He asks this with genuine interest, as though we may have finally found something in common, and I rack my brains for a good answer. I remind myself what Rick said about selling yourself, and selling a sort of story about who you are. I just need to tell James what he wants to hear.
‘I enjoy the challenge, and the feeling of accomplishment when I push myself and find myself getting stronger,’ I reply, hoping it sounds believable.
‘Right,’ he replies with a smile. ‘Feeling that real progress, in real time, it’s a real high.’
Oh my gosh, we’re chatting, and we’re getting on, and it’s working! And Liz looks livid, which is just the best feeling in the world.
‘Are we going for a drink after this?’ Liz asks, stepping in front of me so that James has to look at her and not me.
‘Are you not seeing your new guy tonight?’ he asks curiously.
‘Him? Oh, no,’ Liz replies. ‘He’s not a good fit for me. Let’s just say I’m looking into other options.’
Ergh, I forgot the two of them were in their new flirting era. I need to get his attention back on me. She can’t steal him right from under my nose like this.
‘We’re flying tomorrow,’ James reminds her. ‘I’m going to get an early night.’
As James shoots Liz down, her face drops just as fast. Right, now is my time to shine, to literally muscle back in.
‘James, while I’ve got you, I was wondering if you could help me work on my lifting technique,’ I ask with a smile. ‘Seeing as though you’re such a pro, and I’m still trying to improve.’
‘Yeah, of course,’ he replies. ‘I’d be happy to help. Let me take some weight off this one for you.’
As James preps the barbell for me, I look over to Priya. Her mouth twitches briefly into an impressed smirk before disappearing just as quickly, before Liz can see.
With James’s helpful guidance, I position myself in front of a large weight, feeling his hands gently guiding mine into the correct stance, and as he touches my hands I feel a shiver rattle its way through my entire body. I don’t think I’ve ever felt his hands on me before and, truthfully, realising this is making it almost impossible to focus on the task at hand.
‘And lift,’ he prompts me.
As I lift the weight, I feel like my arms might just slip out of their sockets. The pressure is almost unbearable, and it’s taking all my effort to fight off the urge to let out a scream. Somehow, I manage to lift it, though every muscle in my body protests against the effort. I don’t feel accomplished, or stronger, or any of that shit that I said before. I feel sick, dizzy and like I might just die (I’m tempted to say willingly) if I don’t put it down.
I return the weight to the floor with a huge sigh of relief (or that might just be me huffing and puffing to catch my breath), trying to hide the fact that I’m pretty sure I just saw my dead grandparents beckoning me towards a bright light.
‘Great job,’ James says, smiling encouragingly. ‘There’s work to be done but I admire your dedication and your passion. That didn’t look easy.’
‘Thanks,’ I say, smiling back.
‘I could definitely lift that,’ Liz says. ‘And it would be much easier – watch.’
She nudges me out of the way. Really, truly, everything is a competition to this girl.
I do as she says and, with a determined look, she attempts to lift the weight, struggling to hoist it up. Finally, with a victorious grunt, she manages to lift it before dropping it down with an irritating sense of pride.
‘No help required,’ she declares, shooting me a smug glance. ‘I guess I’m just stronger.’
My blood begins to boil. Honestly, what is it with this woman? She can’t let me have anything, can she? Everything is a competition, anything I do makes her feel like she has to do it too – but better, of course. Why can’t she just let me have this one? I wasn’t even claiming to be the best at this – nor did I even imply I was all that good and worth competing with.
Oh, but now… now I can’t let it go.
‘Can I try more weight?’ I ask James.
‘Are you sure?’ he replies. ‘You didn’t feel like that last one was too much for you?’
I shake my head.
‘No, I’m ready to try more,’ I say. ‘If you don’t try, you don’t know, right? As long as you’ll help me, of course.’
I’m going for flirtatious, but not obvious. Like, I’m flirting with the idea of flirting, in a way that he might notice, but not in a way that comes on too strong.
‘Sure,’ he replies as he adds more weight.
I have realised that even if it might seem more impressive lifting weights on my own, I stand more of a chance of sparks flying between me and James if he has his hands on me. Well, a girl can dream, but it’s worth a shot.
I assume the position – with James close behind me – as I mentally prepare myself to lift another weight – a heavier one this time.
However (and this won’t come as a surprise to absolutely anyone) as I attempt to lift the heavier weight, this time nothing happens at all. My muscles strain against the resistance, but the bar remains stubbornly unmoved. It’s as if my body refuses to cooperate, and for a moment, it feels like my physical body stays attached to the metal but my soul leaves my body, standing upright, instead.
James pats me on the back and offers me a sympathetic smile, clearly impressed by my determination at least.
‘Hard luck, Robin,’ he tells me. ‘But we can work on that.’
‘Yeah, hard luck, Robin,’ Liz echoes as I stand down. ‘I guess it was just too much for you. I could lift that though, easily, without breaking a sweat, watch.’
I roll my eyes, not even trying to disguise it (although luckily no one notices it) because she is just too much.
With a smug smile and determined expression, Liz grabs hold of the weight and begins to lift, her entire body trembling as she just about gets it off the ground.
As she struggles to lift the heavy bar, her face contorts into something that doesn’t even look like her, her skin turning an alarming shade of purple.
‘Okay, Liz, you need to stop, you’re going to pass out,’ Priya says as she approaches her cautiously.
But Liz is – stupidly – determined to prove herself and, with one final, desperate effort, she manages to lift the weight to chest height. However, her victory is short lived because she just can’t take another second of it and so the weight slips from her grasp. And where does it land? Right on Priya’s foot with a sickening thud.
A sharp scream echoes around the gym, drawing the attention of everyone around us.
As Priya cries in pain, clutching her injured foot, I drop down beside her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder to comfort her.
‘I’ll get help,’ James says, springing into action.
‘You’re going to be okay, Priya,’ I say, trying to reassure her. I have no idea what’s going on inside her trainer but I can’t imagine it’s anything good.
A stressed-out-looking gym employee rushes over to assess the situation – and it doesn’t take him more than a few seconds to work out what needs doing.
‘You need to take her to the hospital,’ he says. He’s trying to mask the urgency in his voice but it is undoubtedly there.
‘I can drive her,’ James tells the man, stepping up to help.
I nod, grateful for his offer.
‘And I’ll come with you,’ I reassure Priya. ‘It’s going to be okay, I promise you, just try to breathe and, soon enough, they will pump you so full of drugs you’re not going to care.’
Priya – despite her agony – manages to laugh a little. You can tell that she’s freaked out, trying to keep cool.
‘I’ll come too,’ Liz says.
‘That’s okay,’ I tell her.
‘No, I want to help,’ Liz adds. ‘I’ll make sure you’re okay, Priya, don’t worry.’
This is just classic Liz, to actually cause the problem but then, rather than take responsibility and apologise, to make it all about her. I swear, she’s even competing with me now, to see who can be the best friend to Priya in her time of need. I mean, not only am I so clearly a better friend to Priya generally, but even if the competition were tough, I’m not the one who just dropped a fucking weight on her fucking foot while I was being a fucking arsehole.
James goes to get his car from the office car park, to get it as close to the entrance as possible, while I help Priya slowly (but excruciatingly) hop in the right direction. Liz just saunters behind us.
As we head back past the Mr Universe man, he notices that Priya is hurt – she is screaming, understandably, so you can’t miss her – so he puts down his weight and hurries over.
‘What happened?’ he asks.
‘A weight landed on her foot,’ I tell him – leaving out the part about Liz being the person who dropped it while trying to show off. ‘We’re taking her to hospital. Our friend has gone to get the car, so we’re just heading to the door.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll carry you,’ he insists. ‘Come here.’
The man slowly and gently scoops Priya up in his arms, carrying her like she’s a baby.
‘I’m so sorry for all the things I said,’ Priya sobs to him.
‘I think it’s just the pain, making her a bit funny,’ I explain to him – because obviously he doesn’t know all of the things Priya said about him showing off.
‘That’s okay,’ he says with a smile. ‘Let’s get her to the car.’
The only thing I care about now is getting Priya to the hospital and getting her sorted out.
And, to think, when we were on the way here I actually wondered if this might be enjoyable.