Page 50 of Giovanni
I gesture to Bex, ready to make introductions when Giovanni does it.
“Hi, I’m Giovanni.”
He extends a friendly hand toward her. She grips his hand hard like she did mine, which causes a flash of surprise to wrinkle across his face that goes unnoticed by her.
“Bex.”
“Nice to meet you.” His eyes are briefly drawn to the intricate rings adorning each of her tattooed fingers. “Those are some impressive rings.”
She glances at her hands, a nonchalant shrug accompanying her response.
“Thanks, though they’re a bit of a hassle with my guitar. Scratches up the surface,” she says with a hint of ruefulness, but then quickly adds with a smirk. “But hey, it’s all part of the look, right?”
Her casual attitude and the easy way she brushes off practical inconvenience for the sake of her personal style are both amusing and emblematic of her free-spirited nature. Her stark contrast to my conservative demeanor and her carefree attitude is surprisingly captivating. I find myself genuinely drawn to her, appreciating the refreshing perspective she brings.
“Yep, you have to fully embody who you are.”
Giovanni’s words couldn’t be more accurate when I look at his physique and the embodiment of his bodybuilding dreams we worked on the other night. I glance down at my body, the extra weight, the oversized t-shirt, and sweatpants, and wonder what mine says about me. Undisciplined and out of shape is what it screams. When I raise my eyes to Bex agreeing about embodiment and explaining a recent tattoo mishap, I catch Giovanni staring with a slight inquiry in his expression. Who’s the overly observant one now? When her story comes to a natural conclusion, Giovanni turns his attention to me.
“Are you ready to start?”
Something in his tone warns me of what’s to come, and that’s the question remaining on his face.
“I sure am.”
I press the stop button on the treadmill, welcoming the pause despite knowing the importance of a proper warm-up to preventinjuries. Giovanni extends his hand to me, and I take it, aware of Bex’s observant gaze on us.
“Hey, let’s grab a protein shake after your workout sometime,” she offers while toying with the case of her earphones.
“I’d like that.”
I smile warmly at Bex, realizing that I’ve just made my first gym friend and, in fact, my first new friend in quite a long time. Her invitation is a pleasant reminder of the unexpected connections that can arise in everyday places.
“Cool.”
As she plugs her earbuds back in, she adjusts her treadmill settings, transitioning into a brisk sprint. Her vibrant pink hair is a colorful contrast against the gym’s neutral backdrop. I find myself glancing back at her a few times, impressed by the speed and intensity of her running.
With that, she puts her buds in, lowers the incline, and increases the speed to start sprinting. It’s impressive, and I look back at her several times as Giovanni leads me away.
“What was with that look back there?”
His body bumps into mine, drawing my attention back to him.
“What?”
“You looked her up and down and then did the same to yourself, then frowned. I want to know what you were thinking because I feel it’s not good.”
We pause in the hallway that leads to the group fitness classes, the sounds of the gym—the clanking of weights, the rhythmic thumping of treadmills—fading into a softer hum. His hand gently cups my elbow, a reassuring gesture that prompts me to stop and face him. I let out a small sigh, feeling a bit exposed.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that, or at least not mention it.”
His expression softens, understanding and empathy evident in his eyes.
“Hey, it’s okay. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
I take a moment, hesitating to divulge more insecurities that he already knows, which makes it even more embarrassing to admit.
“It’s just . . . seeing Bex, so confident and in her element, ripped to shreds in her tiny gym outfit and then me in my baggy clothes made me a bit self-conscious.”
