Girl on Track

13| Quite the liar

The next few weeks end up blurring together. When I'm not at school with Vanessa, at home with my parents, or working with Alex, I'm training at the track with Tyler.

It's like I'm divided into four different people, and each person has a role to play: the student, the worker, the daughter, and the racer. It's manageable for now, but sooner or later, these people, these worlds, are going to collide–that's when things will get messy.

My sessions with Tyler are what I look forward to most. It's not just the riding, it's being able to learn from someone so experienced in racing. Some of the things Tyler shows me I've never even heard of, and I feel myself becoming a better rider for it.

In between riding, I manage to squeeze in some sessions at the gym. I find Saturday mornings are the quietest time to exercise, and I'm just finishing on the rowing machine when Tyler walks in. He stands in the doorway and briefly looks over. He's wearing a tight black tee that conforms to his arms and some black sweatpants. The more he trains with me, the more I can't help but notice just how good he looks in them.

"Hey," he says. He walks over and grins as he adjusts the weight machine next to me.

I smile. "Hey."

We train in silence for the next fifteen minutes, because Tyler quickly learned that any conversation during these sessions is too much of a distraction for both of us. 

He stops to have a drink at one point, and he glances at my leg press machine before shaking his head in disapproval. "C'mon," he says. "You can push heavier than that." He puts down his water bottle and changes the weight without waiting for my response.

"That's too heavy," I say. "I'll pull a muscle."

"It's not." He moves in front of me and stands between my legs. I immediately tense, aware of how intimate this position feels. He rests his hands on both of my thighs, and I all but stop breathing. "Relax," he says. "If you lift and it's too heavy, I'll take the weight."

I hesitate, because what he's really asking is for me to trust him, so after a second, I do. I go to lift the leg bar, which is heavy, but Tyler is right–it's not impossible. I manage around two sets of six before the weight becomes too much, and Tyler immediately grips the bar and helps to lower it back down.

He looks up and grins. "See? Sometimes you just need to push yourself and trust that you can do it."

My heart is pounding. Even though his hands are no longer on my thighs, it still feels like they are. "I didn't know you were such a motivational speaker."

He smirks and helps to pull me to my feet. "One of my many qualities."

I try to straighten up and realize my legs feel wobbly. It's the same feeling I'd gotten when I first started training, a mix of fatigue and weakness that makes me feel shaky.

Tyler drops my hand and slips his around my waist instead, suddenly looking concerned. "Are you all right?"

My skin under his palm starts to prickle. This is the most physical contact we've had since I've known him, and it's making it hard to think straight. "I'm fine, I think I just pushed myself a little too hard. I need to go and shower–my shift starts in thirty minutes."

He nods, and I break apart from his embrace before grabbing my phone. There is a text from Vanessa inviting me to some party next weekend and a missed call from Mom. I text Vanessa back to tell her I'll come, and she sends me the address. Then I call Mom, who answers the phone within half a second like always.

"Hey, Mom. Everything okay?"

"Hey, honey. Sorry for calling, I know you're busy at work."

For about a second I'm confused, but then I remember I'd lied about what time my shift starts today. Mom's starting to get suspicious with all of the training and workouts, so I told her I've been picking up extra shifts at work, instead.