Page 28 of 4th Degree

The only expense I have right now that’s “frivolous” is the gym.

My eyes slide closed as a breath stutters out of my lungs. Fuck.

I’ll have to quit the gym. It was a lot of money even when I had the scholarship, but there’s no way I can keep it now.

I allow myself a final moment of despair, and anger, and self-pity. It feels like a special kind of torture that this comes after my conversation with Craig, that right as things were going well, and I finally found a place of peace, that this would happen.

Sagging with defeat, I wake up my iPad and make the decision to end my gym membership when I go in tonight. And in the reflection of the black screen, a second before it illuminates with the email all over again, I see a single tear roll down my cheek.

11

COACH

It takes me three seconds to figure out that something is wrong when Skylar walks into the gym.

It's not just that her class has started in the room next door, the sounds of the warmup emphasizing that she isn't here fifteen minutes early the way that she usually is; it's also that she's not wearing her trademark excited expression. Instead of looking happy to be here, she seems...distressed.

“What's wrong?” I ask, my concern coming out in a barked order. I clear my throat and try again, my voice softer this time. “Everything okay?”

She nods. “Fine, everything's...fine. I just, umm, I need to talk to you about something.”

That snaps me to attention. Standing from my seat, I jerk my head toward the office and silently gesture her to a more private setting. “Let's talk in here.”

She follows me into the room without a word, but she doesn't look nearly relaxed enough to take a seat. So I stay standing, watching in disbelief as she twists her hands in front of her body and as her eyes look everywhere but at me.

What the fuck is happening? I can’t tell if she’s nervous or just reluctant, but I don’t like either option.

“What's going on, Skylar?” I ask.

“I need to quit,” she says without preamble. It catches me so off guard, I feel like I’ve been slapped. “I know your contract says to give ninety days’ notice, but if there's any way you could make an exception?—”

“Wait…what?”

Her eyes widen at my outburst. Honestly, I’m just as surprised as she is at the severity of my reaction, but…what the fuck. She’s leaving?

“You don't seem like the kind of person who would quit,” I explain, arms crossing over my chest as I take a breath. “I want to know why.”

She seems shocked by my statement. I don't tell her that I've been in this game long enough to know when people are quitting for the right reasons, and when they're quitting for the wrong ones.

“I just don’t have time to train anymore,” she says, still not meeting my eyes. “My work schedule got busy, and I’m already stressed with school, so?—”

“Did something happen at the gym?” I ask, suddenly worried that there’s something going on under my roof that I’ve missed.

Her attention jerks back to me, and her eyes widen as they latch onto mine. “What? No, of course not. I love it here. I…”

“Then what is it?”

Her eyes fill with an expression of tiredness, of…defeat.

I fucking hate it.

“Do you really have to quit?” I press. “Can we tweak your membership instead? I know you’re paying for the unlimited option, but most people do twice a week, or three times, and it makes it easier on time and money resources?—”

And that’s when I realize I touched the truth. Because the second those last words leave my mouth, her body freezes and her eyes fill with tentative hope.

But only for a second, because sadness takes over again as she shakes her head.

“It wouldn’t help, unfortunately.” She sighs, her gaze dropping back to the floor. “It’s kind of all or nothing at this point.”

---