After finishing dinner, following what by this point was an everyday routine, Gabe, Bob, and I went to the garage to train lifting weights.
"Nope," I said to Gabe as I took a weight plate from his hands that he was attempting to put on the barbell.
"What?" he asked, somewhat offended. "But I've been alone with the bar for a long time," he argued, almost pleadingly, immediately pointing to the metal bar resting on the rack of our home gym.
"I know, but your muscles and bones are not well developed yet, little man," I quickly replied, giving him a gentle push under the bar.
"Dad," Gabe pleaded to Bob.
"You heard your brother; he knows what he's talking about," Bob responded seriously while lifting a dumbbell in each hand asynchronously.
"Okay, okay," Gabe said in defeat as he lay back again, preparing to lift the bar. "This way, my muscles won't grow; I don't even lift with the same bar as you guys," he continued complaining with a furrowed brow as he lifted the bar.
"That you're lifting is thirty-three pounds; your load will be progressive. Don't expect to lift anything heavier until you're a few years older," I calmly explained to the excited kid. "Now stop complaining and continue quickly; you're taking up space," I scolded, giving him a light tap on the forehead.
Muttering, Gabe continued with his exercise.
As always, Gabe entered several minutes before us to have more time to prepare for sleep. After saying goodbye to Bob and entering the house again, I also completed my nightly routine before lying down, ready for the next day.
I would be lying to myself if I said I wasn't nervous. Meemaw would return tomorrow with two possible outcomes: empty-handed or with a lot of money.
Hoping that my memory was not deceiving me, I closed my eyes, trying not to think about the consequences of losing so much money in such a risky bet.
The next day unfolded normally. Waking up a few minutes before the alarm, I informed Gabe to get ready with me and go for our morning run. Once again, Gabe, pushing himself to the end, managed to run the same distance as me.
Sending him to the only other bathroom in the house, I took the main one before having a light breakfast, ready to head out.
Saying goodbye to Mom and the kids, Bob and I headed to school in his horrible yellow truck. "By the way, today you'll ride back with George," Bob suddenly said during the drive to school, reminiscing as he moved to the rhythm of the music.
"Okay," I replied to the man calmly.
After Bob dropped me off at the school gate, as I did every day, greeting people I passed by, something I did now out of muscle memory, but when I really thought about it, I couldn't help but be amazed at what I had missed for so many years.
Socially isolating myself to continue studying had worked wonders for my academic ability, but now I knew I had basically lived like a recluse in the social aspect. I had no friends, and that was depressing.
Walking gratefully, appreciating this opportunity not to be a social recluse, a few steps away from me, I ran into Kat again. She was walking briskly down the hallway, head down, bumping into people who weren't quick enough to dodge her.
I didn't know Kat well enough to intrude into her life, but remembering the pleasant girl I had met several days ago, her current behavior didn't match. It seemed like she didn't want to talk to anyone; maybe I should talk to her friends.
At my locker, my friends, as usual, were already stationed, talking and laughing about any current hot topic.
"SuperStar, today you're going for Debbie?" after greeting everyone, Brock asked, making everyone look at him with confusion.
"Who's Debbie?" a surprised David asked. "Are you cheating on Regina?" he asked again, much quieter, leaning into my personal space with a kind of proud look on his face.
"No, idiot," I replied, pushing his forehead slightly, making him step back. "Debbie is a car," I explained, making Brock nod with excitement.
"Yes, it's my uncle's car. SuperStar here is going to buy it," Brock added with enthusiasm.
"No way!" Georgie exclaimed excitedly. "Finally, we'll have a car to go after girls," he added equally excitedly, David joining in.
"The car will be PJ's; I highly doubt the 'girls' will be attracted to idiots in the back seats," my usually calm friend sarcastically joked, making David and Georgie lose their excited smiles.
"PJ!" before I could say anything to add to the hit on my silly friends, Sheldon suddenly appeared by my side with his comically oversized briefcase and perfectly arranged clothes to avoid wrinkles.
"Hey Sheldon, good morning," I greeted the little boy.
"Good morning to you too, PJ," Sheldon greeted back with a moderate smile on his face. "PJ's friends," he added, nodding to the other present teenagers.
"You look much better," I affirmed, and it was true. Now he had his usual pale complexion and didn't seem to be low on energy. "Did you decide to start eating again?" I asked, happy that he looked much better.
"Oh no, solid foods are a health hazard," the boy immediately replied with certainty. "Mom decided to liquefy all my solid foods and give them to me in liquid form," he explained completely seriously.
"It's a good temporary solution, but you have to overcome this fear soon. Skipping chewing is not healthy," I told the boy while starting to organize things in my locker.
"I don't understand, why is chewing solid foods important?" the little boy genuinely asked.
"Well, chewing is an essential part of the digestive process, Sheldon. When you chew, you not only physically break down the food, but you also initiate the release of digestive enzymes in the mouth, which facilitates digestion. Besides, by liquefying your food, you might be missing certain nutrients, like insoluble fiber, which is essential for your digestive health," I explained calmly. "You're nine years old, Sheldon, and you're a healthy kid. Supplements are for much older people than you or those who don't have such a healthy digestive system," I tried to explain, being as serious as possible.
"I appreciate your concern, PJ, but as I said before, I have many things to achieve, and a poorly chewed sausage won't stand in my way," Sheldon said resolutely.
"Okay, just think about what I said," I told the boy, not wanting to press him further, giving him a light pat on the shoulder.
"I will," the little boy assured me seriously.
Before I could ask my friends if they were ready to walk to our first class, I met a familiar look, surprise marked on the faces of almost all my friends.
"It's always surprising to remember how smart you are," Alan said calmly, explaining the shock among my friends.
"I'm much smarter," Sheldon said, apparently offended that his incredible brain wasn't being praised. "True, but you're a high school kid; it's not that impressive after a while," my calm friend explained ironically, nodding for us to start walking.
As we walked to our first-period class, David and Brock seemed to have remembered how Sheldon had greeted them all while making fun of Georgie. "PJ's friend," they teased.
The day unfolded like any other school day. Sheldon, with his now much more normal anemic state, eagerly raised his hand every time a teacher asked a question, making me match his energy a bit by answering the questions asked in class.
