Page 12 of Resistance Training
Does he not recognize me?
“Um. It’s me. Vivian. Sparky. From high school.”
“Uh-huh.”
Apparently heisa marble statue now.
I slowly pull away, clearing my throat, and pick up my jacket and bag from the floor.
“I go by Mitch here,” he says. “The name Brad had…negative connotations for me.”
He takes a seat in the desk chair, leans back, his bent legs spread apart, feet flat on the floor. Not at all languid. Open, and yet somehow those wide legs are wordlessly telling me that I could have had what’s between them eight years ago, but I blew it. I mean. I didn’tblowwhat’s between his legs, I blewthe situation. In my opinion,he’sthe one who blew it.
Regardless—he has assumed a power pose. An aggressively hot one. He gestures toward a bench.
I’m being benched.No hugs for you.Fine. I will earn the hug.
“I never called you Fat Brad,” I remind him warmly. “Youknowthat. But wow. It’s so good to see you. You look so…”
“I know. As I was saying. You’re late.”
“Brad—Mitch. I sent you, like, a hundred emails for a year after we graduated. Did you not read any of them?”
“I did not.”
Ah.
Okay.
So he’s still mad.
Got it.
Well, two can play at that game. I was mad at him for a long time too. I’m just not as big of a stubborn asshole as he is.
“What’s it been,” he asks, “seven, eight years?”
“Eight. Since we graduated and you disappeared.”
He casually reaches for a clipboard on his desk. “When’d you move to Portland?”
“Two years ago. When didyoumove to Portland?”
He doesn’t answer. He hands me the clipboard with some forms and a pen. I happen to notice there aren’t any rings on his fingers. And that his hands are larger than I remember. “I’massuming you didn’t fill out the general intake forms when you got here because Gwen knew to send you straight back to me. Since you were late.”
“I got here at exactly seven.”
He doesn’t acknowledge my comment at all. “Please fill out this brief questionnaire. No need to go into detail today, since you were supposed to get herebeforeseven. Usually I’d have you fill it out in PDF before you arrived, but I forgot to get your email address from your sister when I talked to her.”
“So you talked to Aubrey? Does she know you’re you? I’m so confused. Also, I do have the same email address I had in high school. The account I sent you the aforementioned emails from for a year.”
And it’s as though he didn’t even hear me! “Questionnaires will be filled out every week while you have private sessions here. We’ll use them to track your progress along with the progress you track in this complimentary Good Form journal.” He reaches for a soft cover journal from his desk and presents it to me. There’s a Good Form logo on the cover, and under that it saysThe 4 F’s of Good Form.
“Thank you.”
“Welcome.”
“So youdidn’tread my emails wherein I apologized for hurting you and said a lot of really great things about you and got really vulnerable about my feelings? And therefore you’re still mad at me? Is that what’s going on here?”
