Chapter 56

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Chapter Fifty Six

The bell rings.

I hurry across the parking lot before anyone can see me. At least I'm skipping literature, my least favorite class.

When I get in the field house the first thing I notice is the familiar smell. It brings back the memory of the first time I was in here. Trace had just got done storming off after I accused him and Beatrice of being together. I followed him out here to try and make it right. It worked. We've grown so much closer since that day.

The smell is of pure sweat and body odor. It's like walking into a locker room after a basketball game and the sweaty socks hit you in the face.

I see Trace laying on his back, working on a weight bench. He's taken off his shirt, left in only sweatpants. He's got music blasting through the speakers playing Eye of the Tiger by Survivor.

Of course.

He hasn't heard me yet so I decide to take advantage of this moment and just watch him. He grips the bar with weights on either side.

He takes a deep breath and as he lifts, exhales his breath slowly. There's a lot of weight on either side but he's lifting it with seemingly ease.

His muscles contract as the bar gets higher. His chest muscles are tightening with every movement.

I walk closer to get a better look. He must've seen movement from the corner of his eye because he jumps slightly, nearly dropping the weights on himself.

I gasp and rush over to him as if I'd be any help to not let it fall and crush him. He catches them back before they hit him, raising it up, setting it back on its grips.

He shakes his head once and sits up, "I didn't hear you come in."

"Clearly," I laugh, leaving out the part about how I came in minutes ago but stopped to watch him.

"What do you bench?" I question. He smirks.

"My standard bench press is somewhere between 220-250 pounds. Standard being the operative word meaning I can definitely lift more than this, but that's a good weight for me to pump out enough reps and feel the strain. My one rep max is 360." the words roll right off of his tongue like he's been practicing this speech his whole life.

I'm not going to lie though, 360 is heavy for someone his size. That's impressive.

"I want to see what I can do."

He stares at me as if waiting for the punchline to come where I tell him I'm kidding, but I don't.

He nods, "Okay, Ems. Let's see what you've got."

I lay back on the weight bench and I can smell the hundreds of sweaty guys that have laid on this same spot before me. My nose begins burning, but I ignore it.

He takes weights off of both sides until there's only forty pounds left total. The bar itself weighs forty pounds so this will be a test to see how weak I really am.

I wrap my hands around the bar and take a deep breath.

"Wait," Trace stops me, moving my hands further apart before telling me to continue.

He stands behind me serving as a spotter. I take a deep breath and lift, slowly exhaling my breath like I saw him doing.

It's heavy, like trying to hold a ten year old above your head. But I can still manage to do it.

With shaky hands, I set the bar back in place and turn to Trace with a confident smile.

He nods with pursed lips, "Good job." He's impressed.

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