“Do you want to go to a movie? Maybe go shopping after your physical therapy?” Mom set my oatmeal in front of me.

“No, thanks.” I shook my head, picking up a spoon.

“Come on, Jayme. You need to get out. You haven’t left this house since you came home, six days ago.”

“I don’t want to go out.” I took a bite of my cereal.

“Savannah has called you a dozen times. Are you ever going to return her calls?”

She had only called once and texted twice. “I will. I promise. I’m simply not ready.”

“Not ready? She’s your best friend.”

Best friend was a stretch. We hung out, but Colton had been my best friend. Savannah and I only saw each other at practice, parties, or when she wanted to go shopping for something and Chloe was busy.

“Nancy called to see how you were, wondering when you’d be back.” Nancy was my cheerleading coach. She was tough but fiercely loved her girls. She was the one who had called a dozen times. “Reece. Breakfast!” Mom filled a bowl of dry cereal for my sister. This week she liked her cold cereal without milk. “I thought it was sweet. Everyone misses you and wants you back.”

I stuffed another spoonful into my mouth so I didn’t have to respond.

“Reece!” Mom shouted again, placing my sister’s bowl in front of the seat next to me.

Footsteps pounded down the hall, and my sister bounced into the room full of energy and life, jumping onto the chair. I was envious of the innocence, the complete blissful naiveté to her world. Everything and anything was possible. Simple, magical, and innocent.

It was that way only a few months ago for me. It made me want to protect Reece even more. I wanted her to enjoy it as long as she could, where Santa Claus and fairies existed. No pain, no death, no sadness you couldn’t find the bottom of.

“Nancy said she’d loved to have you there. Help with the routines and stuff.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Jayme.” Mom let out a big sigh. It seemed as if her patience was thinning. “You need to do something besides sit here in your PJs watching TV. Get back into a routine.” Aka normal. “You love cheerleading. I think it would be fun to be with your friends.”

I wish it sounded fun. I had enjoyed cheerleading, but the thought of sitting there, watching them learn new dances and cheers for football games made me want to crawl in a ball. It felt meaningless.

“Mom, let me start physical therapy first and go from there.” I was tired all the time anyway. Therapy was going to be a huge challenge.

 

“La-la-la-la…” My sister sang out, trying to bring attention back on her.

“Reece don’t talk with your mouth full,” Mom said.

“I wasn’t. I was singing.”

Mom glowered at my sister.

“Technically she has you there.” I tried to hide my grin.

Mom’s glare moved to me.

My sister giggled, holding out her spoon to me. I clanked mine against hers in victory. Dad had taught us this move. Whenever we chose his side or he won a banter at dinner against my mother, he would clink our utensils in triumph. Reece did it all the time now.

Mom sighed and rose from the table. “I wonder if I can still run an ad in Craigslist to sell two insubordinate children.”

 

 

Dad got off work early to take me to physical therapy. We walked into the building near downtown, an old strip mall that had been gutted and fitted with a gym. There were a handful of rooms for massage and private training, but we headed for the main reception area. The woman there took the medical paperwork from Dad and signed us in.

“Justin will be right with you.” She smiled.

Dad and I nodded and turned to view the room. Treadmills lined the window area facing the parking lot. The opposite wall and the spaces in between were equipped with weight machines for every muscle group you could think of.

A brawny man walked up to us, dressed in workout pants and a tight-fitting shirt. “Hi, Jaymerson. I’m Justin. I’ll be your trainer here.” His large hand enveloped mine, shaking it. His thin T-shirt showed every bulging muscle in his chest and arms.

“Hi,” I squeaked. He was average height and looks, but his smooth bald head, bright green eyes, and fit body caused me to stumble over my words.

“Suzie is the other trainer here.” He nodded to a woman in the corner supervising a middle-aged man on the leg press. He was missing his left leg from the knee down.

Suzie was striking, possibly of Hawaiian decent. She was short but fit and curvy in all the right places. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, showing off her cute round face and bronzed skin. I was glad Justin was my trainer. She’d make me want to slap myself thoroughly.

“Let me give you a rundown of how we run things here,” Justin continued on. My father stood diligently next to me. I could see questions already forming in his head. His job gave him too much knowledge of what I would be going through. “We work with each client for an hour and a half. Forty-five minutes is with us; the other time is stretching and working on machines with a partner. We think the healing process has a lot to do with your mental state.” My father nodded at his statement. “And we’ve noticed over the years clients have mended faster mixing with other people going through the same thing. Do you have any questions?”

My father opened his mouth, and I sighed internally. “I agree being around others helps, but I’m more curious about the routine you have to get Jayme back on her feet. That is very crucial.”

“I feel mental outlook is the most important,” Justin said politely back to my dad. I agreed with him. Dad was used to football, where men pushed their bodies to the extreme, without the psychological stuff.

As Justin obliged my father and went into detail about my workout routine, my attention wandered over the room, taking in the people and machines spread through the space. There were only a few people here and most were older. A girl lounging on the mat caught my attention.

She seemed to be around my age, maybe a little older. She was about five-seven. Her body was average, more on the skinny side but not at all toned. She definitely wasn’t a gym rat or fitness freak like Suzie. Her hair was a white-blonde with red, pink, and green streaks underneath. Her eyebrows looked almost black, and she wore thick black eyeliner. A handful of different style necklaces hung from her neck over a white T-shirt. She had on grey cotton leggings and black Nike shoes.

She noticed me staring at her and rolled off the mat to stand. She waved me over, and I drifted away from the buzz of my father’s questions and walked to her, my steps stiff and awkward.

“Hey, newbie.” A wide playful grin crossed her face. I could sense confidence radiating off her. “Welcome to Justin’s and Suzie’s torture chamber where their pleasure is in hurting you.”

“Sounds like fun.”

The girl snorted. “I’m Stevie Colvin.”

“Stevie?”

“My mom was obsessed with Stevie Nicks.” She shrugged.

“You kind of look like her.”

“Yeah, why not simply embrace it? Think my mom was hoping I would be able to sing too. No such luck.”

I smiled. “I’m Jaymerson.”

“Were your parents obsessed with whiskey?”

“No, that’s Jameson. I was named after my grandpa.”

“Well, your hair is the color of whiskey. Bet you’d go down as smooth.” She winked. “So, what’s your story, Whiskey? Why are you here?”

“Car accident.” I glanced down at my leg, the brace under my sweats strangled any sensations from the nerves.

“Hit and run,” she said, pointing to herself. “Walking across the road near campus on a Friday night.”

“Seriously? They didn’t stop?”

“Probably some drunk frat boy who didn’t want to get into trouble.” She tightened her tricolored ponytail. “Now I’m back living at home till I’m all healed. Hips and back are all messed up.” Her lips twisted down in a frown. “Just looovve living at home with my mom again.” She shifted around grimacing, not putting her weight anywhere for too long.

“How long do you have left?”

“The doctors say another three months if I keep diligent.” A wicked smile enveloped her features. “But I’m not good at being diligent…unless it’s sex.”

Her bluntness took me aback for a moment, but then I realized I liked it. It was refreshing.

“Speaking of…” She nodded her head behind me. “I mean, seriously, his ass can’t be for real. Love to lick it.”

I turned to look over my shoulder. Justin was talking with my father, his profile to us. His butt and chest bulged and curved almost obscenely.

“Also, that one…now I’d really like that one in my bed.” Stevie motioned with her head over my other shoulder. I twisted to see our other trainer, Suzie, bending over, helping the man to stretch out one leg.

My eyebrow curved in surprise. “You’re bi?” I couldn’t help blurting out. I had never met anyone around my age open about being bi or even gay. I knew there were, statistically speaking, and I’d suspected about some kids at school, but few in my high school had admitted it. Stevie seemed to have no such reservation.

“I’m an opportunist.” Stevie grinned. “Why limit myself when I can have both?”

I thought it might make me uncomfortable, but it didn’t. It seemed to fit her.

“I suspect you’re as straight-laced as they come.”

“No,” I responded, my voice unsure.

“Please.” She tilted her head. “You are the stereotype goody-goody girl. Sheltered, sweet, and obedient. Kinda boring, Whiskey.”

Ouch. I frowned and pressed my lips together, wanting to object, but my mouth stayed closed.

“Not to worry; you’ve met me.” She motioned to herself. “I will soon purge those faults out of you.” She winked and laughed.

Speaking her mind seemed to go with her character, and for some reason even though it was directed at me, I liked her even more for it. If I did anything similar, people would be aghast and upset.

“JayJay?” my dad called over. “I’ll pick you up at four thirty.”

I waved to him as he headed for the door.

Justin walked over to us. “Okay, girls, we are here to work, not talk.”

“How about we watch a movie and eat popcorn? I’ve heard it’s very therapeutic,” Stevie said hopefully.

“And how about you grab a yoga ball and weights instead?”

“You are no fun…I mean zero.” Stevie rolled her eyes. “But hey, I’ve heard having sex is a workout and mentally beneficial. You in?”

Justin didn’t even flinch. I had the impression he was used to her frankness. He lifted a dark brown eyebrow, his demeanor no-nonsense.

“Yeah, yeah, yoga ball.” Stevie turned to the far wall, where the yoga stuff sat heaped in piles. “Doing Tantra fitness moves over a large ball, and he doesn’t want me to include him. Just mean,” she mumbled to herself.

“Jaymerson, you are going to start on the machines with me.” He turned toward the treadmill. “Be prepared. This is going to be an uphill battle for a while. You are going to be in a lot of pain, and you are going to have to work especially hard.”

“Way to sugarcoat it,” Stevie yelled from across the room.

He shrugged. “I don’t sugarcoat things.”

Stevie wagged her head. “He doesn’t.”

Even with dread of what was in store for me, I chuckled at Stevie’s comment. I knew I was going to like her. She was different from anyone else I knew.

It was exactly what I wanted.