Eight years later
“Wall balls suck. Running sucks. Rowing sucks. Handstand push-ups suck.”
Smiling as best as my fucked-up face could, I turned to the new girl and said, “Tell us how you really feel.”
She blushed and looked up at me, her eyes wide and surprised, as if she hadn’t expected anyone to notice her mutterings.
Normally, she might not have been noticed. But I tried to stay to myself. Staying to myself meant that I paid attention more.
“Oh, sorry.” She giggled. “Do you do cross-training a lot?”
“Yeah,” I cleared my throat. “My dad owned a cross-training gym. I’ve been in a gym most of my life.”
“Does he own this one?” she asked.
“No,” I answered. “He passed away quite a few years ago now.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” She held out her hand to me. “I’m Bernadette Waters.”
“Bernadette.” I tasted the name on my tongue. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jasper Madden.”
She didn’t comment on my burn scars—most didn’t.
But she was the first woman that didn’t flinch when they shook my hand.
The burn scars were bad, and always would be.
That was what happened when you had third-degree burns that traveled the length of your right side when a bomb explodes only a few meters away from you.
It was weird, because in clothes, on the left side, I looked completely normal. Though, that wasn’t always the case. In the beginning, I had redness and swelling that made me appear much different. Now, the swelling and redness was gone, leaving me with a completely devastated right side.
One angle, I looked like the old me. The other? I looked like I stepped straight out of a horror show.
“Hi, Jasper.”
“Let’s get started, nine A.M.!”
I reluctantly pulled back from Bernadette and turned to face the coach, Alex.
I liked Alex a lot.
He was a great coach for being so young, and he had a great personality for someone that was running their own gym.
Personable. Tough. Yet could talk to just about anybody.
And he had a really funny habit of giving everyone a nickname that wasn’t quite complimentary.
No one truly cared, though. They loved it.
Hell, I didn’t even care when he called me Firebringer.
It was a solid nickname, considering.
“Today, we’re going to do wall balls and handstand push-ups. Who has their handstand push-ups?”
I didn’t raise my hand.
I didn’t like bringing attention to myself.
