Page 9 of My Infatuation with Isabella

2. Dylan

April 12, 2023

Scott finishes hislast set on the bench press, then sits up, huffing. He dabs the sweat from his face with a towel before standing up. It’s late afternoon, and the gym is quiet, but we only have about thirty more minutes before it starts filling up again.

“Nice, boy,” Peter says, giving him a high-five. “But don’t you think you’re pushing too hard today?”

Still breathing hard, Scott slurps from his water bottle. “Nope. I can go harder.”

Pete and I both know the reason why he’s been in a slump these past few months, but bringing it up only makes him aggressive, so we just keep the conversation neutral.

“You’re turning into a tank,” Peter says, slapping him on the back.

“I have a goal in mind. You know what I want?” He looks over at me. “Dyl, pull your arm straight.”

I flex my hand, pushing the base of my palm toward the floor.

“There.” Scott points to the back of my arm. “See the definition of his triceps? I want cuts like that on my arm. How’d you get those?”

“I box,” I reply with a shrug.

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