by JJ Knight
“Those two are with you?” the guard asks.
“They’re with me. We all work out at Buster’s Gym.”
Recognition crosses the man’s face. “I saw that article in the paper. Where’s the gym at? I might check it out.”
Franklin chats up the guard with the four guys, and since they’re clear to enter, I take off in the other direction.
I was hoping to get away clean. But, surely, Franklin will want to bask in the attention and forget about me.
I follow the instructions Camryn texted until I’m at the end of a long hall. Most of the rooms here are shut tight, but one has a small crack.
I push on the door.
Camryn grabs my hand and drags me inside. “Don’t be seen,” she says with a laugh.
I’m barely inside when she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me down to kiss her.
This is what I needed.
I relax into the kiss, reveling in the feel of her. All the familiar smells. Tanning oil. The floral scents I now know to be her shampoo and lotion.
“Poppyseed dressing,” I whisper against her cheek.
She smacks my back. “Nailed my lunch.”
“Who did you go with?”
“Amy.”
“I didn’t know you guys were friends.” Amy has never mentioned Camryn during our coaching sessions.
“We’ve been talking more since the two of you started advancing.”
“We’re making a killer team, the four of us.”
“We are.”
I hold her tight, pressing her head to my chest. My heartbeat slows down. I feel at rest.
“I think you have a shot,” she says. “I know you feel underdeveloped compared to them, but only a couple of them had any charisma. It’s probably going to be about like last time. I doubt you’ll claim the top spot, but you could place in the top five and qualify for Nationals. That’s what you’re here for.”
I twirl her ponytail around my hand. “I don’t even care about that. I want to do a good job up there for Dad and my brothers. This might be the end of the line.”
“There are plenty of open competitions if you lose here. And you’ll be invited to another qualifier even if you don’t place at this one.”
“Everybody seems to think I’m some golden boy, getting an article in the paper.”
“It’s a big deal. Bodybuilding needs all the good press it can get.”
“I want to hold you for a while.”
And we do. I let my anxiety fall away. Bodybuilding brought me to Camryn. It reconnected me to one of my friends. I definitely lost any flab I once had.
It’s done its job. Besides, when we confess to Franklin, I may lose my training partner. Today might be the last day it’s exactly like this.
“It’ll be all right,” she says.
“How did you know what I was thinking?”
“It’s all in how you grip my waist.”
“We have gotten to know each other, haven’t we?”
“We have.” She pulls away and looks up at me. “I want you to hear this from me first. Amy got me a job traveling with the international bodybuilding circuit. But I’m going to turn it down. I want to be here with you.”
I step back from her, holding her hands. “But isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? Travel? The big meets?”
She shakes her head, and I can see she wants me to support her on this. “That opportunity won’t go away. Now that I know about it, I can always try again later. Or if you make the international circuit, then I’ll go with you. I don’t have to take off with Amy halfway across the world when I feel like my world is right here.”
I pull her close again. “Promise me you won’t let all your opportunities pass you by.”
“I won’t. I have lots of connections. Besides, I’m attached to the golden boy of bodybuilding.”
I thread my fingers through her hair. “I’m glad you met my family. I think Anthony might have a crush on you.”
“It’ll all get straightened out as soon as we reveal who we are.”
“Tonight, maybe,” he says. “At least my family. And then we’ll deal with Franklin as soon as it makes sense.”
I squeeze his bicep. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You could both advance, and you might want to withhold this disruption to your partnership until it makes sense to put it to the test.”
“You’re right. You’re always right.”
I lift her chin to mine. She tastes perfect. Sweet and honeyed and warm. I drag her body flush against me. And something starts to stir.
She feels it. “Now don’t go tempting that pickle at a time like this. It’s less than an hour until the competition.”
“Tempt me later?”
She presses both hands to my cheeks. “You’ve got a promise there.”
So, I’m going to pause the story one more time.
Let’s savor this moment. Me. Cam. The competition ahead.
Everyone still likes each other.
We’re all a team.
Because, friends, everything is about to go belly up.
So, close your eyes, remember a time like this. Maybe you loved somebody. Maybe you had a big, bright moment ahead.
Give a nice long sigh.
Mine is about to end.
Okay, here we go.
I bend for one more kiss before I have to let her go and put back on the ruse in front of Franklin and the gym crew.
But then the door flies open, and it doesn’t matter anymore.
Because Franklin is there, shoving his sister aside.
And the next thing I know, his fist is in my eye.
32
Camryn
Oh my God. Oh my God.
I catch myself before I hit the ground. My brother is spinning around to punch Max a second time.
I leap onto his back. “Franklin, stop it!”
Max takes a step back to get out of range of Franklin’s wild swings. Max’s expression is murderous, and I can tell he wants to waylay my brother as good as he got.
But he controls himself.
“You mother fucking asshole,” Franklin yells. He tries to throw me off his back, but we’ve been fighting for a good twenty-five years, and I know how to cling to him like no one else.
He cranes his neck around. “Get off me, bitch.”
Max lunges forward to grasp the front of Franklin’s shirt. “Call her a bitch again, and by God, I will break every bone in your body.”
Franklin swings, but with the extra weight of me on his back, Max easily steps aside.
Franklin stumbles, and I rock him hard enough to bring him to the ground.
I roll away and stand between the two of them. “Listen you two. You both have to get on stage any minute. Max has a black eye I’ll have to fix.” I gesture to Franklin’s hand. “And you’re lucky if you didn’t break a bone. Get yourself together. You’ve worked years for this. We can sort this out later. So get your ass back out there, Franklin. Talk to your crew. And let me fix Max. And, by God, don’t think I won’t tell the judges and get both your asses thrown out of here if I feel like I have to.”
Both of them stop glaring at each other to stare at me.
Franklin turns to Max. “This isn’t over. We’re going to settle this like men.”
“I am not property for you to settle!” I yell. “I have my own life. I have chosen Max. Back off, Franklin.”
Franklin whirls around to me, his eyes blazing. “You guys were sneaking behind my back like snakes. It’s what you both are. Fucking snakes.”
He takes a step like he might take another swing at Max. I jump toward him, arms out.
Franklin laughs. “Look at you. So jumpy. Defending this asshole. This isn’t over.”
“Yes, it is.” I give him a hard shove, and he finally steps away and takes off down the hall.
“That went well,” Max says.
“I have to fix your eye.”
Max envelops me in another embrace. “It
will be fine. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine. But you are not.”
I pull back and check his face. His eye has already shifted in color and is starting to swell.
“This is going to be hard to fix. Let me get some ice.”
I take off down the hall and burst into the main atrium toward the concession stand. If my brother has hurt Max’s chances tonight, by God, I will never forgive him.
When I get back to the room, Max is doing push-ups on the floor. “I need to get my pump on.”
I dump the ice from the cup onto a makeup towel and twist the top. “Where’s your bag?”
Back out in the main arena.
“Do you need anything from it?”
“No. It’s my snacks and weights. I can do without it.”
He switches to a sitting position, and I press the ice pack to his eye.
He doesn’t flinch, but it has to hurt. “Are you all right?”
He laughs. “I’m great. I’m glad the secret’s out. I could have done without a punch to the eye right before I go on stage, but hey, it’s over.”
“Hold this. Let me see what I’ve got to cover it.”
I rummage through my makeup. I find a foundation close to his shade. When the light hits, it might be obvious, but that’s better than sporting a big purple shiner.
I organize my tools and send a quick text to Amy: Are you with Franklin?
She writes back: He just lined up to go on. Seemed on edge. What’s up?
Franklin found out and punched Max. Trying to stem the damage.
God. You need me?
Can you grab Max’s bag and bring it to the last dressing room on the right?
Will do.
“You have a spy?” Max asks.
“Just Amy.”
“Did Franklin go on?”
“He’s lined up.”
“So, I have about fifteen minutes.”
“Exactly. Let’s get you out of these sweats so I can prep you. It’s gonna be tight on time.”
We awkwardly work together as I hold the bag to his eye, and he peels out of his pants and jacket.
Amy arrives as I’m folding up his clothes.
She’s pink-cheeked and harried. “How bad is it?”
Max pulls the ice pack away from his face.
“Oh, my God. I can’t believe Franklin did that.”
“Of course you can,” I say.
“I’m resigning as his coach. I’m not going to have that sort of behavior between my clients.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “We can sort this later.”
“You can get him disqualified for this.” Amy sets Max’s bag down beside him.
“We’re not going to get him thrown out,” Max says. “It was a reaction to us lying to him. It’s perfectly reasonable.”
Amy huffs. “Your definition of reasonable and mine are not the same.”
I pull the ice away from Max and pat his skin dry. “I can’t wait any longer. We’ll have to work with what we’ve got.”
I don’t know what it feels like for him as I press color on the discolored skin around his eye, but he’s one-hundred percent chill about it.
“That’s looking good,” Amy says.
I smooth the color, set it with powder, and blend out some highlights and shadows so it looks more natural.
“You think I should do the other eye to match? I’m worried it will be obvious when the lights hit it.”
“Less is more,” Amy says. “Besides. You’re out of time.”
She’s right.
I lean over and give Max a soft kiss. “Put all this from your mind. Focus on what you need to do up there.”
He gives me an easy grin. “I got this. Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”
Max takes off for the backstage. I collect his things, and Amy and I rush to make it to the auditorium before the heavyweights go on.
We don’t bother trying to find the Pickles, and we definitely don’t look for Franklin or the gym crew. We slide into the back row and sink low in our seats.
Amy squeezes my arm. “Are you okay?”
“A little shaky. But I’m all right.”
We’ve barely made it. The first heavyweight comes out, the one who won last time.
“Damn, he looks good,” Amy says.
“You ever date a bodybuilder?”
“No. I try not to mix business and pleasure.” She elbows me.
Yeah, I know.
Max is near the middle again, and his entrance is heralded by a roar from the left side of the audience. I glance over and squint in the dim light. The Pickles and the gym crew aren’t sitting together, but they are close. Franklin isn’t among them.
I want to know where he is, but I don’t dare text.
Amy leans in. “It’s not too obvious. I think you’d have to know to see it.”
I focus on Max. With the intense lights casting varied shadows, and Max’s continuous movement, it isn’t super obvious while he’s posing.
But as soon as he goes to stand with the other competitors who have finished their routines, I feel like it’s perfectly clear that one eye looks different from the other.
My anxiety ratchets up as we get closer to the end. They often hold their form during the final posedown. His eye is going to jump out. Will the judges notice? Will they care?
But when all the competitors come forward on the stage, it’s not as bad as I think. He got lucky in the lighting placements.
Maybe we’re going to pull this off.
As the judges rearrange the competitors, I realize I don’t even know how Franklin did. His scores should have been announced well before we came into the audience.
But I’m not sure I care. After what he did, I’m not even going to tan him anymore. Amy’s ditched him, too. If he keeps advancing, or even if he continues to do the opens, he’ll have to find a new team.
And pay for his own damn tans.
The judges finally send the men to the back of the stage while they tally the numbers.
Amy sits back. “He looks good up there. He may not be huge, but he’s beautiful.”
I see what she means. If these were male models instead of bodybuilders, Max would win hands down. He’s gorgeous, friendly, charismatic. And built. His skin is taut, veiny where it should be and smooth in all the right places. His symmetry is perfect. And of course, his tan is exactly right.
But this isn’t a modeling competition. It’s about muscle mass. And he isn’t even in the top ten for size.
I have no idea how this will go.
The announcer makes small talk while the music thunders in the background. The crowd starts clapping to the beat, anxious to hear the results.
This is the highlight of the show. The heavyweights and then the posedown of all the winners.
The runner takes a card up to the announcer. He glances at it and says, “In this qualifier competition, the top five heavyweights will have the opportunity to advance to Nationals.”
My heart speeds up. He might be top five.
“In fifth place, from right here in Los Angeles, we have Cliff McClellan.”
I release my held breath. I was hoping to see Max in fifth. The higher it goes, the more likely he’ll be left out.
Amy reaches out to grab my arm and squeeze.
In fourth place, also from Los Angeles, our own Max Pickle!”
I jump from my chair so fast that makeup brushes go flying. I scream. I hug Amy.
He did it!
The roaring goes on so long that the announcer finally says, “I see Max has quite the fan club.”
I finally manage to look at the stage. Max is holding a small plaque and waving at his family. He probably can’t see me way in the back.
Finally, the gym crew settles down and Max steps back.
I can’t even watch the top three receive their medals. Max has placed! He can go to Nationals!
The majority of the bodybuilders, including Max, step back while the t
hree winners pose for pictures. Then everyone walks off stage, leaving the gold medalist to be joined by the other winners for the overall posedown.
I turn to Amy, who has collected my brushes in her lap. “Let’s go back. I can’t risk that Franklin might be back there waiting for Max.”
Amy nods.
We jump from our seats and take off running for backstage.
But when we get there, Max is shaking hands with the other competitors and smiling. Franklin is nowhere to be seen.
“Are you going to Nationals?” I ask.
“I’m invited. But I don’t know. We’ll have to see.”
He puts his arm around me.
That’s the one good thing to come out of today. We can touch each other in public.
“Have you seen Franklin?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. But I haven’t had a chance to walk around.”
“I say let’s don’t. Let’s call your family and get out of here.”
He accepts his bag from Amy. “Thanks. A lot of this is because of you.”
She blushes. “I don’t know about that.”
“Do you get to introduce me as your girlfriend now?” I ask.
He pulls me close. “Absolutely.”
33
Max
Dad insists on a huge afterparty to celebrate my fourth-place standing.
We discover from the other members of Buster’s Gym in the audience that Franklin did not place in his category. No one’s seen him since he left the stage.
I send my dad and brothers to the restaurant while Camryn and I head to my place for a quick cleanup.
I’ve been to her place a dozen times, but she has never been to mine.
We pull up to the gate of the townhouse complex, and I give her the code to punch in.
“Looks fancy,” she says.
“Not too much. But definitely an upgrade from that crappy house I rented with your brother and our friends.”
“I’m not sure I ever went there.”
“I think I would have remembered meeting you.” I give her a grin, but even so, concern edges her features as I guide her to my side of the complex.
“You going to text him?” I ask.
“Eventually. Once he’s had some time to cool off.”
“I don’t remember him being like that when we were roommates.”
