Strike One

Chapter Eight - Achieving a Personal Record

Whitneys Point of View:

I thoroughly want to pound out as many reps in squats today as possible. I need to get last night out of my head, all of it. I cannot fathom a student athlete of great potential attempting to roofie someone; that is career suicide. This Suchy kid is really messed up. This only motivates me more as I continue to push through squat after squat. Abi is my spotter. She hasn't said much to me this morning, but she has nodded at me every so often to let me know she is here for me. I informed the entire team through a group text last night. I felt it made it more real and, too, if it did ever happen to anyone else, then we have proof that it happened before.

My mom jokes to me all the time, I do have a Criminal Justice mind - and she is not wrong. I always think about what is right and what is wrong. When it comes to the gray area, I typically keep my distance from that, whatever it may be. I don't like ultimatums; I don't like being lied to and I don't like being a woman who is taken advantage of. I'm better than that, I know that. Chandler knows that too.

He was kind and honest. He and Luke both showed courage last night in defending me, even though I don't believe I would have needed it. The thought that they cared enough about someone who they barely know wellbeing, well, it makes me believe that there is still good people in this world. After my dad passed, I felt that too, but as time went on, people stopped calling and checking in on me. It was a hard pill for me to swallow. People only wanted to be in my life when it was hard, but they too faded away as the memory of my father's passing slipped their minds. My mother and I were still grieving, s**t I still am. People always feel awkward talking to me because typically the thing that brought us together in the first place was my father.

I turned to Abi and told her the next set I was beating my personal record. She smiled and was incredibly excited to bust out her set so she could get to mine. Seeing that our weight room was specific to the athletic teams, names of those within their weight class when they hit PR's that were better than those within the same weight class would be placed upon the board above the mirrors within the weight room for all to see. Today, I was going to crush 300. I previously had a try my best to beat the score up there of 305lbs. I was going to make my first attempt at 5 complete reps of 310 pounds to secure my spot on the board, at least for now.

Abi, of course, after she finishes her set, turns to the weight room and announces I'm going for a board personal record slot at 310! Everyone hurried over to get a sneak peek at me, attempting to beat the current record that was set by a former basketball player in my weight class a couple of years ago. Time to write my own story, I tell myself.

I am applying the weights to the left side while Abi applies the same amount to the right side for it to equal out to a complete 310-pound place holder. When I see members of the baseball team stretching off to the side, and there he is, smiling at me with that big, gigantic smile he has. I take my spot under the bar and line myself up. I hear coach Hutch giving the guy’s approval to come over and cheer me on. Lifting weight reminds me a lot of catching - its more mental than it truly is physical. Obviously, I need to be able to physically lift this, yes. But, if you get in your head, you won’t hit your goal. Same as catching. After my dad passed and going through Physical therapy - weights became my outlet.

I look down at my left shoe and on the tip bares my father’s baseball number in sharpie. I dip my head under the bar and place my shoulders in line and look in the mirror and see Chandler behind me now and not Abi. It doesn't even affect me in the way it should, in fact it makes me proud for him to be here with me during this. I get through a couple reps and my legs are shaking and I'm

gritting my teeth. Chandler places a hand on my back and one on my stomach and, again, it doesn't make me flinch. It's like his hands were made to be on me, his presence was made to be near me. He continues to encourage me, and the team is cheering me on. I honestly, don't even know what he says to me in those last couple reps, but I'm able to kick the last couple out and achieve my goal.

It went silent for me for a minute. Like a moment of triumph. Then the silence clears out and I hear the entire weight room going insane. Even outsiders are watching from the near end of the room. I smiled, wiped my brow and hugged Chandler - I'm not exactly sure what came over me, but I pulled him into a full embrace. It's one of those moments where you feel so incredibly happy you could cry but can't because people are around. That is what Chandler does to me, that is how he makes me feel.

I pulled away quickly from him and headed toward the locker room, but not after muttering some type of appreciation towards him. Inside the locker room, I went into a bathroom stall, shut the door behind me and tried to hold back my tears. I truly don't understand why. I keep taking deep breaths to try and calm my body and mind just like my therapist instructed me to do. After a couple rounds of that, I opened the stall to find Abi standing there - I'm not sure when she got in the locker room, because I didn't hear her at all.

She places her arms around me and quickly pulls me into her embrace. "I'm so proud of you. Whit, your dad is so proud of you. I didn't know him personally, but I felt him here today," Abi tells me as she continues to embrace me. I shake my head in a yes motion because if I speak right now, I will lose it. She then says, "Chandler, he insisted on being your spotter. I'm sorry if that upset you, but he was in a different mood, like he was determined you were going to do this, and he was going to be in the front row to watch. To be honest, it was incredibly sexy," she confesses. I smile, she's right. It is really hot.

We sat down on a nearby bench within the locker room and Abi looked at me, "You know, you're going to be OK." I smiled, it was like she knew exactly what I was thinking, how I was feeling, and she knew the right words to make it seem/feel OK. I nodded to her, this is one of those silent moments between friends that exists, and only exists because the bond to which your friendship is created on is pure. Abi is a pure soul, she believes in good, and fights for good. I'm lucky she has my back.