Healed

Chapter 8

"There she is!" Aaron, the owner exclaimed as he made his way towards me. "I was starting to think you weren't going to show"

Aaron was a man in his early twenties with brownish blonde hair. He had moderate muscles for a guy who owned a well known gym. "Geez didn't know you wanted me gone so badly"

"How can I ask my star trainer to leave?"

I rolled my eyes but grinned at his obscure way of showing love. I wasn't exactly a trainer. I came here whenever I was frustrated or after my therapy sessions.

As seen after the fight with my mum and now.

So in a sense I came here a lot. It was thanks to Aaron's wonderful mentoring that I became a good fighter. According to him I had a lot of potential and a lot of pent up anger so instead of burning schools I trained here.

I said yes. I mean come on who doesn't like free things?

I walked towards the boxing area which was my specialty. I said hello to the others and hurried into the changing rooms. My bag was always kept here with the essentials like clothes. After changing I take a minute to look at myself.

My brown hair was filled with coloured extensions, my hazel eyes barely seen thanks to the dark eyeliner. My clothing consisted of a simple sports bra and yoga pants and my tattoos were visible.

Yes I have tattoos. Just like every dysfunctional teen in the world.

The me right now was a complete opposite to the me from my past. I looked tougher and felt more confident.

I walked out and said hello to a few members who knew me. Mingling wasn't my style but I didn't want to be rude to Aaron's clients so I often humored them by involving myself in the conversation.

"Yo. You have a new client". Again. "He's already waiting in there for you". Romone, a co-worker said giving me a sympathetic look.

I walked into the ring to find a guy who appeared to be my age if not a year older resting against the metal bars. He had the aura of danger and looked like an exconvict or worst a psychopath ready to kill.

This was gonna be fun. See if he was a psychopath then I was the fucking queen of psychos and If he also thinks resting against a rusting metal bar makes him look dangerous then he's been reading too many books.

"Hi" I said politely bringing his attention to me "I'm your trainer Zoey". He gave a half nod before pulling off his t-shirt revealing a set of magnificent abs.

What? Just because i said I hate the male species doesn't mean I hated abs. I loved abs, sue me.

"Are we starting with basics or do you know a few pointers?"

"I have some experience" he replied. "Are you sure you can handle it?"

"I wouldn't be recommended if I wouldn't be able to". Just because i was a girl didn't mean I wasn't tough. I think the major population of males in school could testify to that.

************

I was fucking sore. My body hurt and I felt exhausted from all the exercise.

I was currently resting on the rings floor after our two session match. The said client whose named turned out to be Damion was good..

Not Mayweather good but average good. He managed to keep up with me and even once tipped off my balance. He was by far the strongest teenage male I had met.

"You're pretty good" told you so.

"Thanks. You're not so bad yourself. You actually kept up with me". He gave me a small grin before taking a gulp of water. "You have skills"

"You flatter me"

Surprisingly it was easy to talk to him. I thought i'd be on edge with him but it felt surreal almost normal. The only guy I've ever gotten close to was Mickey and he was practically like a brother to me.

Don't get me wrong. I wasn't falling for this guy, unlike you unrealistic people I actually didn't believe in love at all. I just felt the same way i did when I was with Clara or Mickey. It felt like being with a friend. "When did you learn to fight?"

"Sophmore year of high school. I had a lot of free time so I trained with my sister's friend, the owner actually". I replied in a low voice. Cue heart wrenching moment.

It hurt to remember Molly. It hurt more since I stayed with Aaron who loved her. My heart felt heavy like a huge baggage had been dumped on  it.

But I didn't want this stranger to see me weak no matter how comfortable we were with each other. I excused myself and hurried into one of the bathroom stalls and sqauted against the door.

I didn't cry. No I became immune to the effects of crying years ago when I cried my heart and soul out. Tears were for the weak and I wasn't weak anymore.

I couldn't be. Not after I promised to be strong and to live. That promise was my driving force, my motivation and although I may never see him again I will never forget.

My breathing went back to normal just like it always did when I thought of him. The boy who magically opened my soul. He didn't ask for more than I could give and for that I was greatful. I fell in love at the moment I thought I'd never fall in love again.

He made me feel special, he made me feel whole. He was a beautiful memory and my one true love. He was my Eric and he would always be in my heart.