Harris curled ten-pound weights in his room. He’d asked Tucker to drive him to the store to pick them up, but Tucker told him he had a weight set in the bottom of his closet.
“You have weights?” Harris asked. Tucker hit the gym once or twice a week, and Harris had never heard him mention working out at home.
“You remember that muscle head I dated for a month? They were his spare weights. He left them when I left him.”
Harris took off his sweaty T-shirt and huffed and forced himself to do more. The cool metal bar brushed his bony hips on the downswing and then his armpits on the uptick.
Hips, armpits, hips, armpits.
“What’s the point of all of that?” Mr. Winters asked. He sat on Harris’ bed eating hot buttery popcorn.
“I need to bulk up.”
Mr. Winters laughed. “Why?”
“Don’t bother hi
