“We should probably get going. Church in the morning.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she groaned, dropping the hose on the table after one last pull. “I love Jesus, but this town on a Sunday is something else.”
I laughed a little, but my stomach was still in knots as we walked out to the Rover and drove across town to my place. Rhodes had straight up ignored me, which I guess wasn’t really any different than what he did when we trained together, but it still bothered me. Did he always have to have a stick up his ass? And why was he all cuddled up with Mrs. Landers?
My brain ran wild with possibilities as I tossed and turned in bed that night. When I finally did fall asleep, I dreamed of shoplifting with Rhodes and getting arrested. But for some reason I didn’t cry or scream when they put the handcuffs on us and threw us into the back of the cop car. Instead I laughed, and for the first time, Rhodes laughed, too.
• • •
I woke up angry on Sunday morning. I thought praying and singing in church would calm me down, but it didn’t. Instead, I found myself not listening to Pastor Mike and thinking about Rhodes and Mrs. Landers. I convinced myself that it wasn’t him with her that upset me, but rather that he didn’t even acknowledge my existence. Up until that point, I thought he just didn’t like to talk much, but acting like he didn’t know me in a public place gave me a new idea. It hit me then that maybe he was ashamed of me. He was my trainer — not my friend — and I knew that, but I wasn’t okay with him treating me like I didn’t matter. I may not have been as beautiful and fit as the other women he trained, but I still deserved to be treated like a paying client.
He didn’t owe me anything. He didn’t have to be my friend. But I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why he insisted on always being such a jerk. He dodged my questions when we trained, opting for silence, instead, and he ignored me the one and only time we bumped into each other outside of the gym. He didn’t want to be my friend? Fine. But I was his client, and he at least needed to be nice to me.
After church, I changed quickly and ran out of the house to head to my training session. I was fuming in the car, going over all the things I would say when I finally got face-to-face with Rhodes. What’s your problem? Am I really that hideous that you can’t say hi to me? What the hell were you doing there with Mrs. Landers?
Of course, as soon as I actually made it inside the training room and was met with those sharp green eyes, everything I’d planned to say flew out into space, leaving me with my arms crossed and foot tapping on the spongy gym floor like a moron.
Rhodes cocked a brow, though his mouth remained a thin line. “You’re late. Get on the treadmill. Bump the incline up to four and the speed to five.”
I glared at him, willing my mouth to open, wishing the words I’d recited would flow from my mouth like I imagined they would if we were in a movie. But I came up empty, and I couldn’t take the heat from his glare any longer so I huffed and climbed onto the treadmill, doing as he said.
Rhodes didn’t take it easy on me that day. After forty-five minutes on the treadmill changing the incline and speed every three minutes, I was drenched and on the verge of passing out. I couldn’t drink water fast enough. Then he had me on the machines. It was leg day, which was news to me, and I found out quickly that leg day sucked. But, I had anger on my side, and I pushed through everything he threw at me.
I tried to take every question I had and use it for fuel to go faster. I focused on the embarrassment and anger I felt when Rhodes ignored me the night before and geared my frustration toward lifting more and lasting longer. I was doing everything I could to ignore what I was feeling and think only of what my body was doing.
Almost as if he knew I was fighting something, Rhodes pushed me harder than he had the entire week before. He made me do more reps when I thought I was done, yelled for me to run faster when I slowed down even the slightest, and got in my face when I murmured that I couldn’t do another set. He knew I was perturbed, but he didn’t ask me about it. He made me work through it. And that just pissed me off more.
When two hours had passed and he told me to get on the Stairmaster, I’d had enough. I tried to push through it, but two minutes in I felt my breakfast threatening to make a second appearance.
“I’m done,” I said, gasping for air as I hit the stop button on the machine. The stairs halted and I rested on the top one, laying my head on my slick forearm as I stared down at my sneakers. Suddenly, Rhodes’ hands gripped the bar and he lowered his eyes to mine.
His jaw was so square, so set — just having his face inches from mine made me uncomfortable. When he spoke, his voice low but firm, a chill ran down my neck. “No you’re not.”
“Yes.” I lifted my head, wiping the sweat dripping from my forehead with my towel. “I am.”
“Stop quitting. Tell your mind to get out of the way so your body can work.”
“I have been working!” I yelled. I was surprised at the level the words left me, but I wasn’t sorry. I was exhausted. I was pissed. And I was officially at my limit.
“And you’re still working. You’re not done. Let’s go.” He pressed the green button and bumped the speed up to six, forcing me to walk. I smacked his hand away and stopped it again.
“I’m going to throw up.”
He sighed. “No you’re not. You’re just psyching yourself out.”
“I CAN’T DO THIS!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, my chest heaving as I dropped down to the ground from the steps. There were people staring at us then, but I didn’t care. I stepped right up to Rhodes, putting me chest-to-chest with him. I felt intimidated, but I didn’t dare let it show. “All you do is scream at me and push me and I feel like nothing is happening other than me feeling like I want to die every night when I leave here. You never let me breathe, you never smile, you never talk to me, and last night you pretended like you didn’t even know who I was. I don’t know if you’re ashamed to be seen around me or what but I’m not putting up with it. You may be my trainer, Rhodes, but that doesn’t give you the right to be an asshole.”
Rhodes’ eyes were on fire as he stood back, arms crossed, taking every lashing I handed out with my verbal beating. At first he seemed amused, but with every word, his face fell a bit further.
Satisfied with his dumbfounded expression, I tossed my towel over my shoulder and snagged my gym bag from the floor, heading for the Rover.
I was shaking as I strapped on my seatbelt, physical proof that though my words were confident and sure, I was far from both. Starting the car quickly, I pulled out of the club without looking back to see if Rhodes was trying to stop me. My breaths were still hard in my chest and my heart hammering against my ribs when I made it home.
The house was quiet as I dropped my bag at the door. I heard Mom on the phone down the hall, but I headed for the kitchen first, grabbing a Gatorade out of the fridge. I chugged half of it before heading toward where I heard Mom’s voice. I wasn’t sure the whole training thing was for me anymore, but before I made any decisions, I wanted her advice. My hand lifted to knock on the door frame when I heard my name. Pausing, I tucked my hand back to my side and leaned back against the wall, straining to hear what she was saying.