Measuring Up

So maybe it’s a good thing he’s being professional so my mind won’t play tricks on me.

We’re trainer and client and even though I’ve enjoyed our workouts, I’m totally not looking forward to today. There’s a heaviness in my chest that won’t go

away.

Tegan waits for me by the door as always, giving me the smile I’m starting to realize is the real one. Not the Ken smile or the fake one. The Tegan one.

Me, on the other hand, I frown. “How can you be happy on a day like this?”

“It’s not that bad, A

“It’s not that bad for you. For me, it’s torture. I used to weigh every day, and I haven’t touched a scale for weeks. Now I’m freaked out about getting on there and finding out I gained five pounds. Of being disappointed I didn’t lose anything. You have nothing to lose or gain here, no pun intended.”

We’re back in his little cubby and Tegan puts his hands on my shoulders. He’s started to touch me more like this over the last week. Professionally, of course, but still more than he did before. “Relax, A

“Pfft, like that’s going to happen.”

He lowers his voice, looking at me with those eyes that seem to see too much. “Then listen to me. Whatever that scales says, you’ve rocked it this week. Be proud of that, because it’s what really matters. You’re here and you’re doing better every single day.”

Wow…he’s really good at his job.

I try to turn away, but he hooks a finger under my chin and holds my head in place. I can’t turn away, not only because he’s touching me and that warm, zapping

feeling is flowing from him to me, but because I’m wondering if he can feel any fat on my face.

“I do have something to lose or gain. I’m your trainer, but that’s not all. We’re… friends, right? I mean, I took a hit for you. Can’t sock me in the face and say we aren’t friends.”

It’s a

ever going to stop reminding me of that?”

Tegan drops his hands and gives an easy shrug. “Not when it gets me what I want. You ready for this? I think you’re ready.”

“Do you always get your way?”

He looks at me like it’s a stupid question.

“Ugh, fine. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

All Tegan says is, “I knew it.”

***

“Come on. Show me, Rocky. You’re lagging and you know it. You did more repetitions than this last time.”

I slide my legs back into place, letting the weights clank extra hard as they snap down. It’s easy for him to say. All if this is easy for him. He’s not the one who worked his butt off only to realize said butt didn’t get any smaller. “My legs are burning.”

“That’s the point. It’s a good burn. That’s how you know you’re doing something.”

I look up at Tegan, trying to silently plead my case. I’m tired, frustrated, fat and done with this for the day, but by the way he crosses his arms, I can tell he won’t have any of it. “We have one more set to go, then we can move on. You knock the rest of these out, and I’ll let ya hit me again.”

Ugh. He’s so frustrating. I won’t let him work his evil ways on me and make me laugh again. “I don’t want to hit you. Well…maybe a little.” I hope he hears the

playfulness in my voice.

“Well, crap. That’s all I have, but we’re finishing anyway. Ten more.”

Ready to get this over with, I push the bar up with my legs ten more times. It’s not as bad as I made it sound. Yeah, I feel the burn, but for some reason, I like leg days the best. Tegan runs me through two more exercises. By the time we’re done, I don’t know what it is, but tears threaten to fall from my eyes. I don’t ask for much. I’m not looking for miracles, but I wanted something more than one freaking pound. “I gotta go.”

Weaving my way through all the machines and people I fight my tears. It’s stupid. I know it, but they’re standing there, begging to burst free anyway. Tegan’s

behind me. I’m not sure how I know it, but I do. Maybe I can somehow smell that mixture of soap and ocean he always carries or maybe I can feel his eyes on me as I waddle away, but whatever it is, I know he’s there.

Before I make it too far, I feel his hand on my arm, steering me into his cubicle. “A

I hold up my hand. If he keeps going, I’ll cry. How mortifying would it be to break down in front of him? As always, Tegan’s there to push me, stopping me

when I try to leave again. “No, listen to me. You’ve kicked ass this week.”

“Yeah, one pound of ass. Actually, not even that. Three quarters of one.”

“And? Does that take away from everything you’ve done? Wipe away the hours you’ve spent here? The hard work? The sweat? Nope. It takes time.”

I feel my resolve splitting, the anger somehow diminishing, but leaving the sadness. How does he do that? “But it sucks… I wanted… God, I don’t know what I

expected.”

He sighs and I realize how close he’s standing to me. All lean muscles, soap, ocean, and…something that always seems to make me feel better. “You expected

what everyone does, which is like super results or something. It doesn’t happen that way and you don’t want it to happen that way. You’re doing everything right here. Well, almost everything.”

His words get under my skin. Not in a good or bad way, just in a Tegan way. “Oh perfect one, what am I doing wrong?” My sarcasm starts melting away the

sadness now. Or maybe that’s Tegan’s work too.

“You want this, right? Tell me you want it.”

“I want it. Hello? Isn’t that why I’m here?”

He takes a step closer and I nearly pass out. That’s the affect he has. “Always so sarcastic.” Again, closer. Is it possible for him to get any closer? I sort of want to find out. “You want it. You’re determined; those are all good, but now I need you to start believing.”

“I…” I what? My mouth is opening, trying to tell him I believe I can do this, but for some reason, the words won’t come out.

“I told you, I think people can do anything. I learned that from my bratty little brother. Now you need to start believing you can do it. Here,” he touches my

forehead and I shiver. Like seriously shiver. “And here.” He touches a hand over my heart. Now, my legs go weak and it has nothing to do with the hour workout I

just had. “I seriously think…I have to think that if you want something enough, if you find a way to make yourself believe it, it will happen. The question is, can you do that?”

I’m not sure I can do anything. Not right now, with the way his hand is on me. Embarrassingly enough, I don’t even trust myself to speak so instead, I nod my

head. Logically, I know he’s just trying to be supportive. That part of this comes from his brother, but can’t I just pretend it’s all about me? That he cares, that he wants to touch me as much as my body wants to be touched?

“You gotta have faith, A

said, you haven’t weighed in a while. That week off could have set you back more than you realize.” His hand is still there. Mayday! His hand is still there and I don’t know what to do! Couple that with my need to believe he’s right. My want to really have faith that I can do this and I’m a mess right now. Up, down, backward,

forward, one pound, ten. I don’t know or care in this moment. It’s only one little touch, but I feel it everywhere. From the tips of my toes to the top of my head, I feel him.

Dropping his hand, he steps away. “See ya next time.”

As fast as my legs will carry me, without it looking like I’m ru