Page 26 of Just a Little White Lie

“(Drop Dead) Beautiful” by Britney Spears is pumping through the speakers at the gym. I scan the couple guys lifting weights in the back before flicking my gaze to the woman on the treadmill. She’s going for it, clocking up the k’s while the belt whirs quickly beneath her.

I linger near the desk, waiting for someone to need me. I’m up to date on everyone’s programs and am now just kicking around until my shift ends. At least it’s a short one today.

I’m kind of bored… and it’s making me think of Lauren.

Along with this song.

Man, she is drop-dead beautiful.

When did that happen?

I mean, she was always gorgeous. I liked her the second I saw her, but she was twelve, so it was easy to think of her as a kid. Each year I watched her grow, not necessarily taller—I snicker—but in other ways. Her breasts came in, her curves formed, and then I left high school and moved on to bigger things, putting her out of my mind.

I moved to Australia before she left for London, and I honestly didn’t think I’d see her again.

But oh man, I’m seeing her.

Kid sister. Kid sister. Treat her like your sister!

I shut my eyes, reminding myself of the plan I have to stick to. Teasing and hassles, nothing sweet or kind. I mean, yes, I was forced to be nice to her on Saturday night. I couldn’t help it. She was drunk and crying and so freaking vulnerable.

I had to help her.

And I did.

She’s working right now, isn’t she?

I check my watch, wondering how her day is going.

Man, I hope they put her with a class of angels. She needs the confidence boost. If she can just have a few easy days, teaching nice students who actually want to learn, that’s all it will take for her to get into the swing of things. She’ll rediscover all the reasons why she went into teaching in the first place.

She’ll become like Mrs. Weatherly and end up loving life again.

I have to believe that.

Because I know what it’s like to have grand plans, to be loving life and then have it all ripped away from you.

I don’t know if Lauren saw this impending disaster heading her way or whether she was too caught up in living life loud to even notice.

I definitely did not see my disaster brewing until it was too late.

Talk about being blindsided.

Shifting away from the desk, I stroll the gym, having a quick chat with Charlie before moving on. He’s an everyday gym bunny. The guy has to work out or go insane. That’s what he tells me, anyway.

I watch him pump iron, his muscles straining, his face contorting as he pushes the limits, then drops the free weights with a huff.

“Good job, man.” I clap and give him a thumbs-up before moving on.

Checking the bathrooms, I replenish the paper towels, then straighten up the skipping ropes in the corner before slipping into the new studio Rob has been working on. My boss is always looking to expand and improve. He’s owned the gym for nearly five years and wants to bring in some class elements. He’s not exactly sure what yet, but he knows some people need classes for motivation, and he’s built the studio in preparation.

I wander into the space, looking at the mirror-lined walls and flashing back to the hours I used to spend in a room just like this.

Positioning my body, I take a breath and do three perfect spins before landing again.

Dance.

I miss it.

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