Matched Up With My Tomboy Childhood Friend

Gym

“Now, let me see your body,” she says.

“What?” I'm dumbfounded.

“Just your upper torso.”

I swallow, looking at the side. “I don't know...”

“Come on, don't be shy. I won't s*xually abuse you or anything.”

With unmeasurable uneasiness, I slowly lift the bottom of my sweat-drenched shirt and remove it. Although I feel refreshed, I'm uncomfortable because she's right in front of me.

“As I expected, spare ribs.”

My shyness turns into anger. “Making me undress then insult me—that's what you're after?”

“Whatever...” She rolls her eyes. “You have to work out a little harder. It would be simple because you're thin and not fat.”

“Okay,” I nod. I look at the time on the clock mounted on the wall right next to the window at the left. It's already 2:20. “I gotta go back to the campus,” I tell her.

“Me too.”

“You guys are practicing too?”

“Of course.”

“Oh...” I stand up and went for my wardrobe to find fresh clothes while she looks around a bit more. I think she recognizes the things that she gave me. She might be willing to come back to watch anime again. After putting on my blue dragon-printed shirt, I ask, “Do you want to watch anime? I have downloaded tons of it.”

“Maybe some other time,” she answers, looking at me above her shoulder.

“Why?”

“I don't have enough free time.”

And that's that. We went out to return to campus to prepare for the sportsfest this Monday. The day after that I woke up early as she told me. I wake up early so arriving at her place at 8:00 a.m. is not much of a big deal. We have a 7:30 a.m. class after all. I wear my jogging pants and a sleeveless shirt. The building of her dorm is very far away from mine but a little closer to the school. I had to commute to get there on time. She warned me about being late but she knows I'm always on time. Then I remember the times when she always beat me being early at school. Good times.

Getting off of the jeepney, the building is already right in front of me. It's one of the tallest buildings in the city. Then the gym is on the second floor. I see that a lot of people are going in and out of the building, running errands of their own. Also, some of them come from the gym, drenched in sweat, and have large muscles.

I make my way inside the building and walk up the stairs instead of the elevator. It's just a floor away, so why would I ride the elevator? Because of my backpack filled with water and extra clothes, I feel quite tired. I overestimated my ability.

At last! Only a few steps deep into the hallway to the gym! Sh*t! I haven't even started working out and I feel tired. Also, my body is tired because of the dance practice and basketball. I think I won't survive the real deal. No, I shouldn't think of that. For my well-being, I will see this through!

The glass door to the gym is showing me how vast this gym is. There is a lot of equipment and a dozen people working out. All of them have big muscles and there are also ladies with... ahem... fine bodies.

Although she said that she already paid for me, I hesitate as I push the door inward. The owner looks at me and just nods. I don't know how he recognizes me. Did she show him my picture or something?

Then my chest jumps a little, seeing her in her sportswear and working out on an indoor cycling bike. She's wearing a black sports bra and leggings. Tsss... she has abs. Her hair is tied into a ponytail and her face is full of sweat. Now I know why she has a fit body. She looks... blazing ho- Ah, what am I thinking?! I'm here to work out!

As I walk towards her, I'm worried about what everyone else in this gym might think of me. I'm the only one who's looking like a walking chopstick. She just grins at me while panting and continuing her workout.

“Just wait for a moment,” she says, breathing hard. Her sweat is dripping from her chin. Then “Woo!” she sighs, closing her left eye. “Done!” She grabs the towel from the handle of the cycle and wipes her face.

The way she's wiping her neck... I must look away.

“I look hot, don't I?” she asks.

“Wha..t?” I ask in a cracked voice. I clear my throat and to recover, I say, “You look fine—I mean.”

“You can bust a nut while thinking of me if you want to,” she teases that I know she's just joking.

She laughs while I scold her, “Stop that! Someone might misunderstand your sarcasm.”

“Okay, okay,” she says, still chuckling. “Your reaction is quite funny. But I'm serious,” she says with a straight face. “if no one j*rks off for me, my effort would be wasted.”

“There would be a lot of guys who will be glad to do that in my stead.” Rubbing my eyebrows, I realize I'm going along with her stupid idea. “Ugh! Just shut up if you don't have anything good to say.” She laughs at my face again.

“The reason for me maintaining a good feminine body is because girls can have a crush on other girls, unlike you boys.”

She does have a point. No straight boy in the right mind would have a crush on other boys. That would be weird in my perspective. But in girls, somehow, it's okay. I find it interesting too... like those Yuri (girl to girl) anime I watched before. I don't know why but I kinda like it. Girl to girl relationship is somehow just a deep friendship between girls. It's quite opposite of Yaoi (boy to boy) fans. Most of the Yaoi fans are girls. That's how I understand why a straight boy like me, finds Yuri shows a little entertaining.

“So,” she says, still sitting on the cycle. “let's get to business. I sent you a workout routine. Did you look at it?”

“Yes.”

“I did with my workout early so I have time to show you how to do each workout properly.” Cool... “First off, don't be obsessed with having big muscles like most of the guys who workout. Your goal is to have a fit body. Based on what I heard from girls, they like fit bodies rather than buff or thin. Fit is right in between. Not too buff that you'll intimidate them, and not too thin that they will see you as a wimp. Also, you have to have a little v-shaped body—this is what they always say that they find attractive. But be careful since most women find tummy a little bit attractive. You mustn't overdo the workout. You can achieve a fit body with this workout that my friend sent me. Don't worry about drinking protein shakes or taking steroids. You just have to be fit and eat enough healthy foods. So, no soda, junk foods, or sweets.”

I don't like sweet food and drinks that much so I easily answer, “Okay.”

“Now, let's get to it.” She goes off of the cycle and leads me to the first part of the workout. It's a treadmill. “Hop on,” she says.

I stand on the treadmill, putting the clip with a string on my shirt. If it gets pulled, it will turn off automatically for safety. She didn't consider if I was ready or not and just made the treadmill go faster. It's fast!

“Hey, I think this is too fast for me.”

She stops increasing the speed then puts her hands on her waist, grinning at me. “You can do it.”

“Th... that's extremely motivating,” I sneer. After a few seconds, my lungs couldn't keep up. “Slow it down...,” I pant. My insides are aching! “Please! I'm gonna die!”

“Oh, moan more,” she teases, chuckling.

“Ugh... I told you to stop that! And I'm serious! I'm gonna hurt myself!”

“Hold on, you still have thirty seconds,” she says, looking at the clock on the wall. I'm breathing hard, so it's hard for me to say something at this point. Then she just counts, “Five... four... three... two... one...”

“Hah!!” I exhale as she starts to slow down the speed. Seconds later, it stops and I put my hands on my knees to breathe.

“Don't slouch!” she yells, s******g my butt.

“Ow!” I cry out, bending my body backward. “What the hell?!”

“Always stand straight in correct posture! Chest out and shoulders back. You have to get rid of that nerd neck you have.”

She's right in telling me that I have a nerd's neck. This is because of slouching when sitting in front of a computer and playing mobile games with bad posture. It feels painful doing what she said because I'm not used to it.

“Alright, let's go to another part of the workout,” she says.

I follow behind her and I feel my legs would give up any moment. My lungs are dying inside my chest. My nose could not take in enough air I need. I feel like I'm gonna die! She's ruthless!

The next exercise is on an open space with mats on the floor. She folds her arms, looks at me, and says, “Do sixteen reps of wide-arm push-ups. Four sets.”

“That's not how much the guide said.”

“I know but you need to push through your limits.”

“Don't you think that's too much?”

“No complaining.”

I get on with it and lie on my front. Spreading my arms and with my palms against the floor, I start to do push-ups. At the fifth rep, I can't lift myself anymore.

“I can't!” I grunt.

“Do it!” she encourages.

Exerting the best I can, I continue to push until I give up at eleven reps. “I can't...,” I wheeze, lying on my face.

“You're weaker than I expected. Well, let's move on to another exercise.”

She goes on overdoing rather than following the guide. She makes me reach my limit (no dirty jokes intended) until I give up. My body is dying in exhaustion. My head is dizzy, trying to get some decent oxygen. I've never been this exhausted in my life! I wish I never followed what she said. I wish I never met-

No... somehow... I feel that she... she cares for me. I'm a little glad that I met her again. She's pushing me to take care of myself. While doing curl-ups, she's rewarding me with a cheer every rep. I know that this is how most fitness coaches would do it but she's not a coach. She's my friend that cares for my well-being. Except for the well-being of my mind, of course, because she's nuts.

The hellish time of my life is now over—the routine is over! I survived! I sit on the floor, letting my sweat drip from my nose and chin.

“Good job,” she says, giving me my bottle of water.

“Thank you,” I thank her as I grab it.

“Let's go to my place. I'll show it to you to be fair.”

“Okay.” Standing up, I look at the clock and I realize that I've been here for only half an hour! I thought I've been suffering for hours.

She goes into the women's bathroom to change—obviously and I go to the men's. Changing inside the compartment, I feel icky touching my drenched clothes. I should've brought a plastic bag or something so that it won't dampen the insides of my bag. I just shove them in after I finished wearing fresh clothes. What I'm wearing are a simple blue t-shirt and jeans. I didn't change my shoes.

Upon leaving the restroom, I waited for her to come out. I just lean against the door and scroll through social media. I mostly scroll on articles to be updated in the news.

A few minutes later, she comes out dressed like a tomboy. With oversized white t-shirt and brown shorts that reach her knees. Her hair is still tied up into a ponytail. She looks like a straight girl but not for me since I know who she is.

“Let's go,” she says, leading the way. I follow behind her.

“Want me to carry your bag?”

She clicks her tongue. “Hell no. I ain't weak, bruh.”

Oh, I can't believe I forgot. “Okay,” I say in a way I couldn't be more awkward.