It invigorates me and the room. All the moms are mouthing along to the words as they pump two-pound weights to the beat. Ever since I started giving this job my all, my classes have been better attended and the vibes have been largely more positive.
“All right, everybody, grapevines to the right!” I instruct into my headset. It’s always a little trippy hearing my voice through the speakers. Now that I’ve stopped viewing this as a dead-end gig and accepting that this is just where I am in life, I’ve begun to enjoy the sense of community it has brought me.
The packed class moves in unison like a health-conscious school of fish. It’s nearly mesmerizing until I notice the door in the back of the room open. A medium-height man with jet-black hair ducks into the class late. I can see him in the reflection of the mirror as he puts down his duffel bag and grabs a set of weights.
Cardio Dance Fit is a nonstop exercise class, so I don’t have a second to scrutinize the newcomer, but my heart senses what my eyes can’t confirm.
In the blur of bodies, I try to keep my hopes in check and my expectations low, which is hard to do when at every song change, I get another peek that throws my systems off. A muscular arm doing a bicep curl. A pair of blue Nike sneakers in a kick. A butt I could pick out in a lineup underneath a pair of five-inch-seam running shorts.
It’s not until the class is over, the music has stopped, and we all gather in a circle for a cooldown that I finally see Leo’s sweaty, smiling face and know for sure.
Well, not entirely for sure.
I could be imagining this because Leo lives on the other side of the country, right? He wouldn’t be taking a cardio dance class in suburban New York for no reason. Unless he’s taking a cardio dance class in suburban New York for...me.
I give the class the shortest cooldown imaginable and send everyone on their way.
My regulars are the sweetest, so they all line up as I pack up and thank me for my time. Some tip me. It is gratifying. But I’m hoping these women move it along because Leo has grabbed his bag and tacked himself on to the end of the line.
When the room has cleared, it’s just me and him. A few months hasn’t changed much. His hair is a little longer. His arms might be a little bigger. Regardless, it’s his dark brown eyes I can’t look away from. There saying so much that his simple “Hey” can’t cover.
“I can’t believe you’re here right now,” I utter. “You are here, right? Because these last few months have been kind of jumbled, so this could totally not be real.”
Leo, ever the cocksure stud, flexes one bicep and with his other hand, he guides my palm to the mark. “Does this feel real enough for you?” He drops my hand immediately and lets out his melodic laugh. “Did I surprise you?”
“My heart is racing, so I’d say yeah, you surprised me.”
He dips his head, voice going all bashful. “I got your text a couple weeks ago.”
I had been wondering. Leo left his read receipts on. I knew he’d seen it, but he never responded. I needed to respect that he wasn’t interested in reopening us. “So instead of responding you flew all the way out here?”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” he says with a cheeky wink. “You’re not the only reason I’m out here.”
“I’m not?”
“You’re not,” he says, coyly not divulging any more.
We’re back on our banter-y bullshit. Maybe I didn’t dash us to smithereens when I left after all.
“Why else are you here?”
He shakes his head. “Oh, no. You’re not getting answers that easily. I only came here to give you this.” From the front pocket of his duffel bag, he pulls out a small purple envelope. “You’re not allowed to open it until I leave, got it?”
A smile overtakes my face. “Got it.”
“Good luck,” he says before giving me a quick kiss on the cheek and then dashing off.
I pack up the rest of my belongings, all the while my mind is on what’s inside that secret envelope. Once five minutes have passed, I sort through the contents. One is a folded piece of paper. The other is a Go Directly to Jail card from Monopoly.
Is this his twisted way of saying he wants nothing to do with me? That I’m in relationship jail or something?
I open the note:
Holden,
You’ve got 24 hours.
Happy hunting.
