Attitude Adjustment

20 You Work Out, Big Boy?

Four days later, I still can't process what Hayden did for me.

The man chased after my mom's boyfriend in the middle of the night. Punched through his glass. Then imprinted his knuckles on his unsuspecting face.

I mean...live, laugh, Hayden.

In summary, my legs might be open.

In other words, I might want him in my esophagus.

No, seriously. That day revealed the messed up part of our families to both of us. The brutal tension between him and his dad versus my mom's boyfriend breaking my car windows...an extra layer of something has developed between us.

Call it trust. Call it unspoken understanding. But something has changed.

So while the days continue and we live under one roof, we see each other in a different light. I learn his little habits, like how he clears his throat when he's uncomfortable, or how he can inhale a thirty ounce steak like it's made of water, then still have room for ice cream.

He gets more talkative when we watch movies. My theory is that it's easier to focus on something else and he doesn't have to make a lot of eye-contact.

We also fight every time we play board games. I'm pretty sure our neighbors can hear us. Milo's blood pressure goes up, but it's not my fault that his dad is a sore loser.

My car is still at the body shop, getting repaired. So on Friday, when Hayden once again goes to his nightly gym session, I decide to go with him.

He's been taking me to work every morning (because he's so nice), but this is our first time going to the gym together. So wish me luck.

I'm dressed like Adam Sandler, with my hair up and no makeup. I'm there for gains. Harry and Edwin are getting married soon and mama needs to look good.

Hayden? Hayden belongs in the fridge for being such a snack.

The brooding beast stands tall in black, knee-length shorts and a sleeveless, loose shirt. Every time I look at him, I want to volunteer to be thrown over his shoulders like a bag of potatoes.

Stomp on me.

"I'll see you later," he says as we enter his huge, air-conditioned gym (I got a free pass). He puts his AirPods on and moseys over to where the treadmills are to warm up.

I do my usual ten minute stretches in the yoga area, doing my absolute best to ignore his existence. Emphasis on doing my best.

He doesn't even look my way. Not even once. Edwin and Harry were clearly delusional when they said that Hayden was into me.

 Is it because I look like Adam Sandler? It is, isn't it? I should've dressed slutty.

"Excuse me?" A friendly looking fella squats to talk to me, when I'm suffering on the leg press machine later. "How many sets do you have left?"

"Just one more," I say cheerfully. 

"Okay, cool." He lingers around for the next minute or so, waiting for me to finish.

Now I have an audience, so I'm putting even more pressure on myself to hit a new weight record. I've seen those videos of people's knees breaking inward from pushing too far on the leg press machine. I'm tiptoeing on the line of becoming one of them.

As soon as I'm done, I wobble out and stand, but when I turn to leave, Hayden is blocking me.

I flinch back, hand to my chest.

He looks away. "Everything good?"

"Yeah, why?"

He's scanning the area like he might piss on someone. "No reason."