Control Yourself

As Shae was checking her mail box, located in the lobby, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She rolled her eyes, knowing well enough by now who it was.

“Forrest…” She mumbled, not even bothering to turn around. She grabbed the chunk of mail from within her tiny mail box, shutting it back up and locking it afterwards. Slowly she turned; filing through her pointless envelops and junk mail.

After their encounter in the grocery store a few weeks prior, the guy had finally mentioned his name; Forrest. Shae, of course, didn’t automatically return the favor, but since Forrest had now become a client of her studio, it didn’t take him too long to figure it out.

“You’re no fun,” He said, towering behind her. She shrugged.

“So you’ve told me before…” Shae muttered, brushing past him back towards the stairs, eyes still fixed on her stack of mail.

“I came down here to ask you something,” He said. Shae grunted, finally lifting her head to meet his eyes with her own.

“What’s that?” She asked tiredly. Forrest grinned.

“Well, I’m a little antsy, so I wanted to know if you wanted to walk and grab a coffee with me,” He asked casually. Shae rolled her eyes, however friendly of a gesture it may have been.

She still didn’t like him, and couldn’t understand why he still tried.

“Sure,” She shrugged nonetheless.

Shae stuffed her junk mail into the blue bin, following behind Forrest as her sandals flipped and flopped across the floor. She squinted upon entering the bright, Nevada sunlight, cursing her jeans that were tolerable in the air conditioned complex. However, the sun felt nice against her bare shoulders, soaking through her white, eye-hook camisole.

The pair was silent.

“I don’t have money on me,” Shae finally said, breaking the silence. Forrest grinned.

“So that’s why you agreed to come,” He joked. Shae scowled. “It’s cool; I got it.”

Shae inwardly groaned, hating when people offered to pay for her – even when it was something as simple as a drink. It made her feel as though she owed them something in return. A debt to Forrest Griffin, her least favourite person at the moment, was not something she was looking forward to repaying.

“It’s a little warm for coffee, anyways,” Shae said, wiping off her upper brow with the back of her hand.

“Well, they do sell cold drinks, too,” He grinned. Shae rolled her eyes. There was no escaping it; one way or another, Forrest was going to buy her a drink.

“Don’t you have training or something?” Shae asked, folding her arms across her chest.

Forrest shrugged.

“I deserve a break now and then, don’t I?” He asked rhetorically. Shae sighed; Greg never took a break.

“I guess if you’re not that concerned about your greatness,” She mumbled. Forrest chuckled.

“I don’t need to train every day to know that I’m good,” He told her. “I train my hardest and teach my best six days a week, so, I like to have a ‘me’ day.”

“How admirable,” Shae smirked. “How does one even choose fighting as a profession in the first place?”

Forrest shrugged.

“It wasn’t really my first choice,” He said. “I went through university for political science, I worked as an officer for a while and started fighting, but then I wound up on television – Ultimate Fighter, have you heard of it?”

Shae rolled her eyes, nodding. Forrest grinned.

“Well, I was sort of set on returning to Athens, and live my life as a cop, but then Dana White – president of the UFC, y’know?” Again, Shae nodded. Forrest chuckled. “He convinced me to stay, to give it a shot, and well – I won.”

Shae narrowed her eyes at him.

“You won?” She repeated. Forrest nodded.

Apparently, she couldn’t recall his face despite Greg watching the show religiously.

“After that, it just seemed fitting to stay with it,” He told her. “Now I’m a trainer, I coached a season of the show, I’ve been champion, and I’m feeling strong.”

Shae rolled her eyes.

“I like to think I didn’t choose fighting,” Forrest said. “It sort of chose me.”

Shae couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“That’s the cheesiest thing ever,” She wheezed in between laughs. Forrest playfully shoved her.

“And how does one decide to become a yoga teacher?” He asked. Shae shrugged.

“I’ve always been really involved with fitness,” She said, her laughter dying down now that the spotlight was on her. “Uhm, I started as a personal trainer, working for the gym, but, I wanted something more calming. I started saving, invested in the studio, and well, my classes became a hit. I paid off the studio debt, started teaching a variety of classes, and now I have a mini-empire…”

“Plus you met Antonio somewhere in between, as well…” Forrest reminded her. Shae grumbled.

“I’d rather not talk about him,” She scowled.

And they didn’t.

Forrest immediately changed the subject, keeping Shae’s mind off of fighting, her ex, as well as the fact that Forrest was a serious fighter. They were braced with cool, refreshing air as they entered Starbucks, causing Shae to shiver slightly. She decided to go ahead and order a warm drink; her drink of choice being the soy, chai latte. Forrest, of course, had to boast about his hot drink theory, ordered an espresso for himself. The two sat down at a table for two, sitting across from each other, oddly making eye contact now and then. Shae’s foot brushed Forrest’s by accident and she immediately jerked away.

“I still don’t understand why you hate me,” Forrest said, taking a sip of his coffee. Shae rolled her eyes.

“I told you; I don’t hate you, I just don’t like you,” She said. He shrugged.

“Okay, well, why don’t you like me?” He asked. “Why can’t we be friends?”

Shae grunted.

“Because then, I’ll like you,” She said. “And it would be okay for me to like you.”

Forrest stared at her in disbelief.

“You can’t like me because then it would be okay for you to like me?” He repeated, his nose scrunching up. Shae nodded.

“Something like that,” She mumbled.

“You’re confusing as hell,” Forrest muttered.

Shae shrugged her slim shoulders, sipping on her latte.

“No one asked you to figure me out,” She retorted. Forrest grinned.

“I know,” He chuckled. “I just like a challenge.”