hearing my name, Sean, spoken by Bubba that gave me a warm feeling. Maybe because it was so unusual that such a big, handsome, popular guy would know my name at all.
“You can call me Sean,” I said, feeling a little shy for the first time. I pushed up my glasses.
“Sean.” Bubba smiled at me, looking me right in the eyes, and it made the warm feeling spread. “So… how much have you weight-trained before, Sean?”
“I haven’t. That’s why I need help with form.”
He blinked at me and waved one large hand at the papers. “You’ve never done any of these exercises? Ever in your life?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
He looked perplexed. “What about team sports?”
“No. I’ve always focused on academics. I never had to take athletics of any sort at the private school I attended.”
His smiled faded. “You mean… like… no dodge ball or volleyball or anything? Not even in gym class?” He sounded shocked.
I shook my head. “No. I never took gym classes,” I clarified This seemed to be a concept he wasn’t grasping.
“What about, like, jogging?” he asked with a hint of panic in his eyes.
“Not really. Perhaps a few yards to get out of the rain.”
“Hiking? Water skiing? Canoeing?”
I chewed on my lip. “My family isn’t the active sort. We went to museums a few times a year.”
“Minigolf?” he asked faintly.
Clearly, my answers were disappointing him. I thought it was clear I was out of shape. What did he assume I needed a personal trainer for? But I wracked my brain. “I’ve played Ping-Pong,” I offered brightly. “But I wouldn’t consider myself a good Ping-Pong player.”
He lowered his gaze to my chest and arms in my black pajama top with the Bat signal on it. I crossed my arms over my chest self-consciously.
“I am quite serious about this plan,” I said defensively. “I have muscles, after all, like everyone else, and all muscle tissue responds to training. Surely, a personal trainer should be able to work with anyone.”
“Yeah, hey, no problem. I always say I like a challenge.” Bubba smiled weakly at me.
Ha. I was determined not to be a challenge but a star pupil. After all, I’d been one my entire life.
And this was only physical exercise. How hard could it be?
“Try this one.” Bubba held out a dumbbell like it was a feather.
I took it. Damn, it felt like lifting a truck. I had a hard time even holding onto it because it wanted to pull right out of my grasp. I let it hang by my side, my fingers aching.
“Okay, now keep your feet spread apart a little, that’s right, and stiffen your spine, shoulders back, feel the strength in your core.” He waved a hand from my shoulders to my groin, indicating a core which felt like it had no strength at all. “Keep your wrist turned in like that, and now bring the weight up slowly.”
I tried. I understood the desired movement. He’d demonstrated it, making it look easy. But my arm only came up about thirty degrees with the weight before my muscles started to shake and I couldn’t go any farther. I didn’t mean to, but my arm dropped, and the dumbbell slipped from my grasp to the floor where it made a loud bang.
“Sorry,” I said, rubbing my forearm. “It slipped.”
“That’s okay,” Bubba said too lightly. He picked up the weight and looked at it with a sad face. “That was only ten pounds,” he whispered.
I crossed my arms over my chest and looked away. This wasn’t working. It was my—our—first training session, and it was a catastrophe. That was the third dumbbell Bubba had handed me. The first one I hadn’t even been able to hold in my grasp. I knew I was out of shape, but now it was becoming clear to me how terminally moribund I really was. I felt humiliated—and angry too.
“Look, this isn’t productive,” I said sharply. “Let’s forget it. I’ll work on my own. Tomorrow or… something.” I turned and headed for the locker room.
I didn’t want to see Bubba anymore. Clearly, when it came to the body, he was a giant, and I was a gnat. It was like me trying to teach physics to a two-year-old. What had I been thinking volunteering for flag football? I’d been so naïve. And how was I going to tell Jax and my frat brothers that I couldn’t do it? Who was going to take my place?
And what about my goals? My New Year’s