Personal Goals

“I’M GOING, OKAY?” I shouted back at my mother before turning and slamming the front door shut behind me. I was boiling mad. I stormed down the stone steps that went from the front of my house to the paved roundabout driveway where my car sat. It was one of the many things my mom had been yelling at me anyway- that I hadn’t parked it in the garage like I was supposed to.

Not only that, but apparently she wanted me to go to a fucking personal fitness trainer. Whenever I thought of personal trainers, I thought of awkward as fuck guys teaching people how to lose weight. I didn’t need to lose weight, though! I was perfectly fine! And on top of that, why did I need to go out of my way to drive to a gym? We had a fucking workout room in the basement. Why couldn’t this trainer guy just come to me?

After I started the car I furiously punched the address of the place my mom had given me into the GPS. It wasn’t very far away, but I was still bitter as fuck that I had to go. I guess it was my fault anyway, but whatever. Long story short: my mom walked in on one of my hookups with a friend with benefits, and was appalled. Now, she was doing everything she could to try and get me to make a ‘productive use of my time’, whatever the hell that meant.

I guess I could have just decided not to go, but my mother blocked that loophole as well. She had the personal trainer’s number and told him to call her if I didn’t show up. If I didn’t show up, she threatened to make me pay my own car insurance. Basically, being a teenage male and driving a sports car meant that insurance was steep as hell. The only way I would have been able to afford it would have been to get a job- something that I was even less keen on doing.

Before I knew it, I was finally at the gym. It was tucked away behind a grocery-anchored shopping center, and it didn’t look very busy from the outside.

The inside of the gym was practically dead. I mean, I guess it was that slow point in business, right after people’s crazed new years’ resolutions about getting fit had died off. I had to laugh at that, but then again I guessed I wasn’t one to talk. Maybe I wasn’t over weight, but I sure as hell wasn’t fit.

Anyway, I was wandering through the freaking ghost town of a gym looking for at least the trainer I was there to see. I looked down at the paper that my mom had given me. The guy’s name was Victor. Apparently she didn’t remember what his last name was, but how many Victors could there be in one place? For some reason I imagined some big, burly, Russian guy.

“Can I help you?” I heard a voice from behind me. I spun around to see a guy standing behind the counter. I hadn’t even noticed him there. He was a shorter Hispanic guy that wore a cut-off tank top and wore his hair down in brown curls. His skin was tanned and his arms were nicely toned – quite nicely.

“I’m looking for some guy named Victor,” I shrugged. He came around the counter so that he was standing in front of me and held out his hand to shake.

“You can call me Vic,” he said, flashing me a friendly smile. There was something off about his smile though. It seemed kind of fake. Also, this guy was totally not what I was expecting. I mean, yeah, he was really good looking, but he wasn’t Russian or big. Actually, he was shorter than I was … but damn, those arms. “You must be Kellin. I spoke to your mom on the phone the other day.”

“Uh, yeah,” I shrugged, casually, as I shamelessly looked him up and down. Yeah, he was definitely hot. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I thought. “Just so you know, I really fucking hate exercise.”

“It’s not that bad, you’ll see,” he shrugged, adding a little chuckle. “Are you ready to start?”

I rolled my eyes and glanced around at all of the different machines and stuff. I didn’t even know what half of them did. This was so not going to be fun.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I moaned. “What do I do?”

“Well, first I’ll need to stretch you,” he said, then froze when he noticed the face I made. I could visibly see him blushing.

“Slow down there, tiger,” I teased, “We don’t even know each other.”

“Not what I meant … um, anyway, let’s go over to the mats, I’ll show you what I mean,” he explained, turning away from me. He brought me over to a row of mats and motioned for me to sit down. I could totally sit down- I was really good at that. I set aside my car keys and my water bottle and joined him on the mats.

“Okay, so before you do any type of workout, it’s extremely important to stretch,” he explained, and my mind went right to the gutter.

“Or else it’ll be pretty painful, right?” I said, holding back an extremely immature fit of laughter. He took a deep breath, and kept his gaze stern.

“Yes,” he said, through gritted teeth. I could tell he was trying to make it seem like he didn’t see the innuendos I was making. This just entertained me even more, because it made it obvious that he knew at least a little about gay sex. “Anyway, let’s start with the arms.”

He stretched his right arm horizontally across his chest, holding it in place with his other arm. I did the same, though I couldn’t take my eyes off of the definition in his arms that stretching only highlighted. He showed me a couple of other arm stretches before we started on legs. Legs were interesting too, because there were a couple of moments where he was actually holding me in place, trying to get me to stretch further.

“You’re very good at this, Victor,” I said, trying to make my voice as seductive as possible. I was horrible for flirting with him; I knew I was, but whatever. He was really hot and he was touching me, so obviously I was going to get turned on.

“I told you to call me Vic,” he said, standing up as we finished the stretches. Just looking for another excuse to make physical contact with him, I reached my hands up for him to help me to my feet. I was pretty sure I saw him roll his eyes, but he helped me up anyway.

“Okay, then Vic,” I muttered. “What do I do now?”

“Well, since it’s only the first day, we’re going to do some light cardio, just to get your endurance going. After that, we’ll get in some core and stretch again before our session ends,” he explained. “You know, the key to being able to exercise right is having a strong core.”

“Oh, I bet,” I smirked, imagining what those abs must have looked like under that tank top. I hoped that if we worked up enough of a sweat, he’d just take it off all together. He walked me over to the cardio machines and pointed to an elliptical. I got on and watched as he pressed a bunch of buttons to get it to the right setting. Embarrassingly enough, it was set at one of the lowest difficulties and I was still out of breath after only five minutes.

“Aren’t y-you gonna do anything?” I panted as I kept at it with the stupid fucking elliptical. I felt like I was fucking dying.

“I already did my workout today,” he shrugged. “This is your session, not mine.”

“What if … What if I said it would m-motivate me if you did?” I breathed heavily. It was a lot harder to talk and ‘run’ at the same time than I thought.

“I don’t know, would it?” he asked.

“Yes,” I assured him.

“Maybe next time,” he shrugged. After he decided I had enough of this torture, he allowed me to stop. I stumbled off of the machine, my legs feeling like Jell-O. I gulped down my water, only for Vic to come over and warn me that drinking too much too fast could make me sick, and that I should just take it in small sips. I didn’t really listen to him, though. I just really needed a drink.

After that, he led me over to the mats that we were on before.

“So, tell me, Kellin,” he started to say as I sat down. “What are your fitness goals?”

“Fitness goals?” I repeated.

“Yes, like, where do you want to go with your training? Are you looking to improve your lifestyle, or looking to gain muscle? Anything you want to work towards, really.”

“Um, I don’t know,” I snapped. “I don’t really want to be here at all.”

He frowned at that, then laughed nervously. “Well, your mother did warn me that you’d be difficult.”

“Good,” I shot back, though I added a satisfied smirk as an idea formed in my head. I think it was in that moment that I decided that I knew what my personal fitness goal was: I was going to seduce the hell out of my trainer. How’s that for difficult?