Page 26 of Atlas
Lauren
“Alright ladies and reach up with your leg.” Sunday’s voice echoes over the speakers as she demonstrates the next move on her pole. She wraps her very toned leg around her pole with ease before beginning her oblique crunches. I groan inwardly and Janie groans outwardly, but we both – far less gracefully than Sunday–wrap our legs around our poles and begin crunches.
“Why did I let you talk me into this?” Janie pants and I can’t help but roll my eyes.
“You know you feel better after, and I need someone worse than me so I don’t feel as self-conscious.” I grunt as my side burns. Janie hates exercising, unless it’s a fifteen minute light yoga session followed by a trip to Nuts About Dough. The girl lives her life like a sloth, just laying around and eating. There are times I’m envious. Janie has a slim waist and petite curves, but eats like a teenage boy, yet never gains weight. I, on the other hand, work out, eat a rather balanced diet and can look at a milkshake and my ass gets bigger. But, as much as I feel uncomfortable in my body, lately I’ve found myself wearing blue colors, and shorts or tank tops without jackets.
“I am going to die.” She wheezes as we switch sides. “So, how are things on the job front? How are things with Atlas?” I hear the suggestive undertones in her voice, but choose to ignore it. Atlas and I haven’t spoken much in the last two days. I’ve been busy with check ups and he’s been busy with some big tattoo appointment he’s been working on at night. A model, getting a tattoo under her boobs.
“I was supposed to go into the office, but I think my dad had his assistant go to get my stuff in order to save face.” I sigh as I lower my leg down. “Though whose face, I’m not so sure.”
“Do your parents not know what happened?” I shoot a hard look towards my red-headed friend as I press my lips together. She knows better than to ask that. There is zero chance I would willingly tell my parents what had happened. Mainly because I’m scared of what they might say. What if they think I deserved it? Or I provoked him somehow? What if they think I was too hasty and should’ve given him another chance because of his name? I could never look at them again if that happened, and I’m not ready to roll the dice and bet on them siding with me.
“How’s the tattoo going?” I ask as we sit on the floor, preparing to stretch.
“What tatto–oh my ass!” Janie whines as she rubs her butt cheek. “I either need to come more or stop altogether because this is brutal.”
“The model.” I state, trying to sound uninterested. She isn’t buying it.
I watch as Janie’s grin slowly spreads, and she reminds me of the Grinch. “Oh, you mean, Valentina?” She says the name in a husky, sensual way that makes me roll my eyes.
“Shut up.” I grumble as I reach for my toes.
She smacks my arm before attempting to reach her toes. “I’m kidding, my god you’re flexible. But umm, I guess it’s going fine. I haven’t really been staying late there. I’ve been busy trying tofind someone to run the front of the shop full time and I need to find a piercer. You wouldn’t want to run the front of the shop, would you?”
“God no,” I shake my head quickly. “I mean, it’s an awesome job, but not me. I can’t handle the people. I could barely handle my clients.” I am only partially aware of Sunday turning the music off and dismissing the class, but Janie and I stay on the floor to wait for Sunday to come over. “So is Atlas there, alone?”
“Oh my god! You think he’s banging the model!” Instantly, my face turns red. I lean over and hit Janie in the arm, making her whine in mock pain.
“Shut up!” I growl as my heart rate increases. Obviously, that isn’t what I’m thinking. Not entirely.
“What you said fucking hurt.”
Atlas’ wounded voice echoes in my brain and I feel guilty all over again. I hadn’t meant to shame him for his history, and really, did I have any right to be upset if he did have an interest in the model? After all, this is a fake marriage. But how fake was whatever this feeling is? Or that feeling when he hugged me that way. I had never felt so calm, so quiet.
“He’s not,” Janie says, matter-of-factly. “You don’t need to worry about him.”
“You know what he and I are,” I mutter as I watch Sunday heading over. “I have no right to worry about him.”
Janie shrugs, “I know what you are, and I also know what you bothwishyou were. So again, no reason to worry.”
“Hey there’smy new lady friend.” I giggle as Howard gives me a small wave while I walk towards the awning outside that he seems to favor.
“Hey handsome,” I grin as I sit on the bench. “What are you doing out here by yourself? Where’s Atlas?”
“Ah, he got in trouble and is inside talking to the overlords.” Howard waves a dismissive hand. “It’s all bureaucratic bullshit.”
My heart sinks as I look towards the entrance. “W-what happened?” Did he get into a fight? Was he late?
Howard scoffs, “What happened is, once you live past your utilitarian date, they prop you up in a corner like a damn plant. Water, sun, rotate and repeat. You get no say in your life anymore. Do me a favor, no matter how much you dislike someone, never send them to a home, there is nothing worse than having the freedom you fought so hard for, stripped from you by a thirty-year-old pencil pusher whose worst work injury consisted of a stiff back from sitting on his ass too long.”
I am still at a loss. Thankfully, Atlas comes storming out of the building, but halts when he sees me.
“What are you doing here?” He asks while making his way over to us. I can tell by his tense jaw and pressing lips he’s pissed.
“I knew you were going to be working late again.” I say while reaching into the bag I have across my body, I pull out two energy drinks and hand them to him. I hate that he drinks them, but the way his demeanor changes and a smile forms on his scruffy, unshaven face, I wish I had a palette of energy drinks to give him.
“Thank you Princess.”Princess.It occurs to me we haven’t seen each other hardly at all and he hasn’t called me Princess since our hug. I miss it, more than I think I realized until just now.
