We hang up and I grab the first size sevens that I see, walking with my purchase to the register. I pay and toss everything onto my passenger seat, then swing by my office to check in on things.
As usual the day slips away, until I find myself checking the clock to see it’s already 5:35. Shit. There’s no way I can make it home to change, then across town to his gym. Thankfully, I have a gym bag in the back of my car. It’s old as shit, from when I used to take yoga classes, but it has workout clothes in it.
Running out to my car, I open the back and dig through it. There is a pair of navy blue yoga pants, but a tank top is a totally different story. Frustrated, I pull out every last item from the bag, only coming upon some socks, another pair of pants, and two sports bras. Looking at the two bras and then down at myself, I’m fucked, I don’t have a choice. I grab the purple one and some socks, then my new sneakers from the passenger seat.
I cannot believe I’m about to show up at his gym half dressed. I shake my head to myself. What choice do I have? Quickly, I change in the restroom and wish that I had time to stop and buy a shirt or tank top from somewhere.
On the drive, traffic is a bitch, in true New Jersey fashion, giving me plenty of time to get myself all obsessive and worked up. I remind myself to stay calm – I’ll only be a few minutes late and I’m just working out with a friend…nothing more. As the minutes on the clock tick by, I get more and more nervous, looking down at my bare stomach.
Finally, I pull into the parking lot. It’s crowded and looks super busy, making my anxiety spike that much more. But I don’t have a choice. Parking in the only available spot that I see, I grab a hair tie from my center console and hop out, dragging my confidence behind me.
Walking up the stairs to the all-brick building, I check my car to make sure it’s locked before entering. I’m just mentally stalling at this point because goddammit, I’m nervous. And Elania Harmon doesn’t get nervous. But there’s something about this man that does that to me.
“What’s up? You look stressed,” Amanda asks me.
“You know Elania’s coming to work out and…” I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence. Right now I sound so dumb and insecure.
“Come on, Nate, you can tell me anything,” she urges me.
“It’s my leg.”
“What about it?”
“She doesn’t know about the prosthetic and I don’t know if I should tell her now or not.”
Amanda glares at me. She views my leg the same way I view her being gay. It shouldn’t make a damn bit of a difference to anyone. Or change anyone’s opinion of me. But it’s always in the back of my mind and I fear it’ll lead to rejection.
“Forgive me if I sound uncouth, but what the fuck does it matter? I mean, that’s what you tell me all the time.”
I look her in the eye, her sincerity shines through, I realize eventually that I’ll have to tell Elania. It’s just, inside my gut is telling me that the better decision is to tell her now, to not hold anything back.
“You’re right.”
“Damn straight I am. Now please take your ass to the locker room and change into some shorts. I’m sure she’s already been wondering why you are in jeans all the time while we’re pretty much trapped in Satan’s ass crack all summer.”
Leaning over, I give Amanda a hug. My leg or lack thereof is part of who I am. It doesn’t change me as a person or hinder my abilities in any way. I shouldn’t let it affect me mentally. Deep down I believe that’s what led Arion to stay with Bain, but I guess that’s really only speculation at this point. Maybe I’m just hiding behind it because it’s easier than the full truth. Fuck if I know.
Heading into the locker room, I change into a blue pair of basketball shorts and check the time on the wall; it’s 6:13. Fuck, maybe she’s not coming. Maybe I got stressed over nothing, seeing how at this point she’s almost 15 minutes late and seems to take punctuality crazy serious. So far, I haven’t heard a word from her. I go back into the office and check my phone…still nothing. I’m not going to text her. If she forgot, or better yet, blew me off, then fuck her. It might actually help me out.
“Hey, Nate.” Ryan, one of the girls from the front desk, comes into the office and interrupts my mindfuck.
“What’s up?” I ask her, trying to hide the annoyance to my tone.
“Can I get some ones for the front register?”
“Is it out?”
“Almost,” she responds. Just as I bend down to open the safe. My heart stops. There she is. Jesus Christ, there she is. Half dressed, looking hot as fuck, long brown hair pulled up on her head, showing every part of her body, and in my gym.
“I’ll bring ’em right out,” I tell her, not able to look her in the eye as mine are glued to Elania’s body.