Chapter 21-The Machine

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When I went to the gym the next morning, my new brunette friend Megan wasn't there. Although I always made a point to smile or wave to her whenever I saw her, now that we'd actually connected, I felt a bit relieved she hadn't shown up. Today I, Lexie Greene, was going to do something I'd never done in my life.

Use a weight lifting machine.

"What are you staring at?" Mira asked, puffing away next to me on the elliptical. Her legs flashed in and out of each other in surprising sequence. Instead of gawking at the newscaster, she'd started paying attention to her workout lately. "You look like you're staking out a chili dog stand or a place to drop a nuke."

Not a nuke, just my body.

"I don't know." I shrugged nonchalantly, my feet whirring in the elliptical next to hers. We'd been going to the gym for weeks—which felt more like an eternity—and I had started to dread the same routine of bike, elliptical, treadmill. "Just thought I'd try out something different today. You know that weight loss TV show I watch? The episode last night said that you should change up your routine if you start getting bored."

"Try swimming."

I snorted. "Swimsuit in public? Not on your life."

She cocked an eyebrow. "What else is there for people like you and me?"

"Like a weight lifting machine."

"You're going to try one of those?" she asked, swinging her head to the other side of the gym where a young man was pushing some sort of bar into the air with painful grunts.

"Yeah, well, I'm just getting bored, you know? I either wog on the treadmill or ride this thing. Don't you just want to change it up sometimes?"

She mumbled something suspiciously close to all I want is a Pepsi, so I left her to her mutterings and scouted out the options again. Surely it couldn't be that bad, could it?

"What if you hurt yourself?" she asked. "You have no idea what you're doing on those things. Then you wouldn't be able to work out, and then you wouldn't lose weight."

And then you'll meet Bradley looking like this, my brain finished. I rolled my eyes and shoved those thoughts away. "I'm not going to hurt myself."

"Yes you are."

"Look, it's not like I'm going to do those free weights that Megan does," I cried, shuddering at the thought. "They look too complicated and I'd probably drop one on my face. These machines don't look so bad."

"Weights will make you all jacked up and buff like a man."

"Megan said they don't and I trust her. I'm going to do it, Mira. I'm determined. I'm also bored out of my mind watching a rerun of Jeopardy. They never have anything good on. What happened to Golden Girls?"

She pressed her lips to one side of her face in a dubious gesture that solidified my determination.

"Oookay," she sang. "Can't wait to see this."

Resolute, I stopped the elliptical and clambered off. The tip of my sneaker caught the foot pad and I stumbled, but caught myself by hanging off the handlebar until I could regain my feet. Mira snorted. I avoided her judgmental gaze by straightening my clothes and walking, head high, to the other side of the gym. I stopped at the indoor track that the sweaty Asian man looped around every morning.

I'd never crossed the track before.

It felt like a moment out of a warped version of West Side Story. When I finally walked across, I found myself swimming in a veritable jungle of iron, rack, and weight. I crossed my arms in front of me, suddenly nervous. Mira was right. I had no idea how to use any of these. When I glanced over my shoulder, she was intently watching, a half-smirk on her face.

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