I was right to only plan a simple exercise today. I feel dead tired after a simple cardio that lasted only a little long. I rest my weight on my hands which are behind me while I'm sitting on the mat.
My chest rises and falls. I work to bring my breathing back under control as I feel the warmth in my arms after the few push-ups I added to my regimen.
Now I have worked my legs, my arms, and a bit of the rest, mostly my abs. The tank top feels mildly irritating against my chest, especially as it clings onto my erect nipples.
I really should have worn a bra underneath. At least the shorts below are good. The designers did a good job with it.
I stand up and stretch a bit. That brings me to an idea. I should learn to swim. Not only for survival in case… Well, I forgot that there is only one sea as big as a whole world. The rest are just lakes, rivers, and sparse bodies of water.
Alright. If not for survival, at least for the exercise of my muscles under different conditions. That should also be a way to keep myself slim, and I can pull Liz along to play when the occasion presents itself too.
Yes, then it is decided.
I exhale. I already feel less tired. I know that the worst will come later, maybe tomorrow morning, but for now, I feel good, energetic. I let the mat behind to dry and go to the kitchen.
I take out a large glass bottle of milk from the fridge. It looks no different from usual milk, but there is no label on the bottle. I smile at the level of the milk in the bottle. It is around two and a half. Considering its origin, it is impressive, and my smile can't help but deepen thinking how the source of the milk must be dealing with it out there.
I look down at my chest, and I wonder if I will also come to produce some of it.
I heat a bowl of it, and I serve myself a bowl of cereal with pieces of chocolate and hazelnuts. I hesitate, but I don't end up adding sugar.
After I finish the bowl as an afternoon snack to regain energy, I clean up and go to take a bath. I have never liked things being left messy, and I am more diligent in this life.
I wear pants, sneakers, and a jacket over a simple sports bra to go out. I should not feel comfortable with something like that, and indeed, I feel tense, insecure, but it is a desensitization cure I am forcing myself through. Though, maybe the little bit of perversion inside me is rearing its head because the cool wind suddenly makes me feel a little excited.
I raise the zipper higher, and I run out. Along the way, I check my phone from time to time. I don't want to lose my way. After an hour, I have gone around the neighborhood and the self-defense centers close to it.
Most are the same, just offering different courses. It would not be too much to call them taekwondo, karate, judo and so on. The names might differ, but fighting, neutralizing threats, inflicting harm, at the end of the day, can't leave the same system of the martial arts of my past life.
Now there is only one gym to visit. It is the one I have paid special attention to, just that it is also the farthest.
Half an hour later, I stop before a gym called Def-Art, based on defense art. It is a name like any other, but what interested me is the variety of courses and the chance for high level practice.
I push the door, and after talking to the receptionist, she calls a boy around the same age as Josh.
"Hello, I'm Elijah. I'm an assistant coach for beginners. Are you here to try?"
He is handsome. His temperament feels clean too, better than Josh. He has dirty blond hair, and a smile that feels like spring. He must make many girls swoon over him.
I regulate my breath and respond with a smile of my own:
"Hello, I'm Max. I came to get some information first. Only after that will I decide if I want to try."
"Then come with me."
He shows me the place. There are many classrooms, each one a hall holding a good number of students of different ages. They have many disciplines like they said on the web. And…
"Each class pays particular attention to practice unless the student doesn't want to. In that case, the practice will be minimal. As for the superior class, it is for those who are at least red belt in at least two disciplines. Their practices are harsher, but their gains are bigger."
"MMA? Do you train professionals for its competitions?"
Elijah smiles at my question:
"Yes, but no here. This is the store for amateurs."
"Oh."
It is impressive.
"For minors, there is a form for their guardian to fill, so if you want to learn here you can take it when you are leaving. And here, there is no distinction between genders. The practices are mixed, so you won't be shortchanged just because you are a girl."
"Alright, give me a form. I will come back later."
I cut him short because I have seen most of what I should see already. Beyond that, I am feeling uncomfortable with a boy in proximity for too long, especially when his eyes seem to look at me with more than a casual look.
'I wonder if she will come back. I want to ask her out.'
"Ahem."
I clear my throat and hurry to the reception. He follows me to get me the form himself.
"Can we exchange numbers? That way you will be able to ask me anything you don't understand."
I glance at him, but I don't even need to consciously read his mind. His desire is blasting out like a loud broadcast. It is not impure like Josh's. It is even kind of pure, like the seed that can grow into a beautiful romance, but…
Heurgh!
I don't feel disgusted, but my discomfort grows.
"No need. If I need anything, I will call the club directly or come back for a visit."
I ignore his gaze, as well as the anticipation for my return his mind is focused on, and I bolt.