Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter Eight: Climbing Shit Mountain

The two hour training session almost killed me, and I considered myself a reasonably fit person.

"You did awesome!" Nick, Christian's trainer, complimented me as I sprawled out flat on the floor.

"I want to die," I moaned dramatically while moving to my side. "We didn't need to do five rounds of those intervals. Three would have been fine," I continued to complain. "Also, battle ropes are objectively the worst. Let's not next time."

"Christian needs those for his scrawny bird legs," Nick explained with a smile.

"And I don't need them for these holiday hams," I offered, moving one leg up toward my chest and grasping my thigh. My thighs were stupid muscular, but I appreciated them. I guess. Nick just laughed.

At this point, Christian hopped off a treadmill and joined us. "You need to do a cooldown," he said, pointing at me.

"Nah, I'm good," I said, rolling my body back and using the momentum to jump onto my feet. "I'll just stretch a little."

I moved to a corner of the facility, and Christian followed me. "You clearly work out a lot," he said, as we both put mats down on the floor. "I think you could probably deadlift more than me." He indicated that he was clearly checking out my legs.

I laughed awkwardly, "Yeah, because I'm a solid foot shorter than you and my thighs are twice as big as yours. Deadlifts are a bit more natural of a movement for me."

He smiled. "Are you going to do this with me again tomorrow?"

"Sure!" I exclaimed while forcing my body into a runner's stretch. "My trainer will be thrilled you're making me do this. Not going to lie, I was looking forward to being immobile for a few weeks. And she knew it." When I had the option to be a lazy slog, I usually took it. This circumstance was at least eliminating the option.

"Did you play sports growing up?" he asked while holding a pigeon stretch.

"Yeah, I played a lot of sports – soccer and golf were the main ones, though. I actually went to college on a full golf scholarship, which is a weird thing most people don't know about me."

"Seriously?" Christian raised an eyebrow at me. "I suck at golf."

"No joke. I haven't really played since graduating, though. No time, and I've lost interest. I do like to kick around a soccer ball on occasion." I shrugged.

"Where did you go to college?"

"I left Milwaukee and went to UCLA. You?"

Christian shook his head left and right. "I was drafted out of high school, so I sort of missed that opportunity."

"Ah, that explains why you're so inarticulate!" I exclaimed, clearly joking. "The whole baseball thing seems to be working out well, yeah?"

"Couldn't ask for more. I'm really lucky," he said.

"You seem so happy and content when you talk about it . . . I wish I felt the same way about my career choices," I stood back up and started a triceps stretch over my head.

"You don't like acting?" He looked genuinely concerned when he asked me the question.

"I like acting. I don't like the power game you have to play to be able to act and be successful doing it. I'm constantly climbing Shit Mountain waiting for someone to push me down. It's exhausting. I shouldn't complain, though. I, too, am really lucky to get regular work." I gave him a half smile.

"What would you be doing if you weren't acting?" He seemed genuinely curious whenever he asked me a question. Like he actually wanted to hear my answers. It was refreshing, but also uncomfortable. I wasn't used to people displaying active listening skills.

"Probably something boring. I have a degree in actuarial science, so I'd most likely be calculating your car insurance rates."

"Wait, you didn't major in theatre or something like that?" Christian was done stretching and just focused on me at this point.

"No, not at all. I did improv and acted in plays while in college, but I was never classically trained. I just won the lottery when a casting agent noticed me during a lame sketch I did. Then I figured I'd give acting a real try. If I knew then what I know now, I probably would have just settled for the insurance rates."

Christian looked at me with an odd mixture of admiration and confusion in his eyes. "For me it was sort of baseball or nothing. Baseball is my one thing. Maybe I'm fortunate I was never bombarded with options."

"I'm sure you had other things. I mean, based on you pushing me today, you could definitely take over for Nick over there." I said, pointing at Nick, who was knocking out some pullups.

When Nick noticed me looking at him, he hopped down from the bar and walked over to us. "Hey love birds, let's get some lunch before I return you to your obligations at Castlevania."

Christian blushed, but I just rolled my eyes. "Lunch sounds good," I said.

"Yeah, lunch sounds very good," Christian added, looking at me somewhat too intensely.