“Whatdoyoumeanthere’s a mob outside the studio?” I ask Tiffany. I’m trying to get situated in my office, waiting for the familiarity and comfort to wash over me, but that’s impossible when you’ve been putting out fires for the last two days.
Not literal fires, but things that pull me from my to-do list—the one I love to complete—and deal with things like a glitch in our booking system which basically doubled the capacity for a yoga class. Or a typo in the schedule which had twenty eight people showing up for a 9 PM yoga class that was meant for the morning.
Then there’s the paparazzi encounters—more negative than previous. It’s uncomfortable for our members, and my staff, to be bombarded by camera flashes while you’re trying to get to and from a workout.
I’m thankful for everyone’s grace and understanding. Staff, gym members, the police officer who I called when I was nervous about someone with a camera lurking by our staff entrance. Meanwhile, it feels like my body is in a vice, the air around me too heavy to even take a deep breath. This is my fault—it’s me they’re trying to see or maybe someone famous coming to work out—and that means I’ve tried taking on more than usual. Which is quite the choice, considering I’ve never had less time.
It’s like something horrible is about to happen—I can feel the tide about to shift. There’s nothing like waiting for the wave that’s going to demolisheverything in its path. And this place, which is so much of me, means everything.
Tiffany shifts her weight in the doorway, “Exactly what it sounds like. There’s a line of people who are trying to come in. Some have gym bags, like they want to drop in, and some are saying they just want to buy merch.”
“Are any of them members?”
“I don’t think so. The members are coming in and using their cards to unlock the front. Security hasn’t had any issues.”
The entry system is new. It was necessary when we got the influx of new signups and it’s honestly a great way to make sure the gym doesn’t have too many people at once—I don’t need any issues with the fire marshal. This was an upgrade I was looking to make in the next two years but didn’t have the funds to complete it. Now, my original plan didn’t include a security guard, but it was recommended with the increase in traffic and popularity.
“Let’s make sure that security is doing okay and have them make an announcement.”
“What’s the announcement?” Tiffany asks when I don’t immediately offer it up.
Rubbing my temples with my hands, I go into problem solving mode. Honestly, it’s where it feels like I’ve been living lately. My brain gets all murky; one second it’s fixated on how I wish I looked different in a football uniform, then it’s on the calls and texts I’m behind on, before it jumps to something else.
The last few days there have been some honorable mentions—the missed field goal and the almost kiss with Tyson. It’s like I don’t have enough time or mental energy to think through these things. So, I get a third of the way in, trying to sort it out, and then we’re on to the next.
The field goal was supposed to be no pressure—give me a challenge—but since I missed it, there’s been this pit in my stomach that refuses to close. It’s like I’m teetering on the edge and about to fall in at anymoment. Coach clapped me on the shoulder and my teammates told me good job. They called out the positives: you had the leg, you were so close, you’ll make it next time.
Being able to kick a field goal is key to every team’s game plan. The Cosmos are at a disadvantage with someone who can only come in for extra points—and even then, it’s still kind of a question mark. I haven’t missed yet, but I have only had a few opportunities. Everyone said it was fine that I missed the attempt, and people even cheered on my miss, but it was like a punch to the gut.
“Blair?” Tiffany interrupts my thoughts.
“Sorry. Okay, here’s what we’ll do. Give everyone a business card, have them sign up for the newsletter, and we’ll make changes to our schedule in the next few weeks. We’ll add a designated time to shop for merch plus an additional drop in time for non-members.”
“Wait. That’s brilliant,” She lifts her hands and rests them on her cheeks. “Should we get merch?”
I laugh because she’s right. The only things we have are a logo T-shirt, stickers, and a water bottle. Again, this is something I wanted to expand on when I had the time and funds. Guess there’s no time like the present. “Yes. I’ll work on it.”
Another item to add to the never-ending to-do list.
“Anything I can help you with?” Tiffany asks.
“I’m sure but I don’t even know where to start right now. Let’s go take care of the mob and we’ll go from there. Okay?”
My phone buzzes on my desk.
Tyson
want to do takeout tonight?
can give you the rundown on the away game schedule
I flip the phone over, as if Tyson can see me through the screen. He’s another thing my brain has been running through, ever since the Halloween party. Ever since we almost kissed.
The way he looked at me… This time, there was no second guessing. His blue eyes were like waters I could happily drown in. And the disappointment that crashed into me when we were interrupted. The balcony felt like a movie, all of the almosts coming to a tipping point, and I was eager to see what was coming next. Instead, Zack’s thoughtfulness and remembering my love for coffee was like someone turning the lights on in the theater just as the big reveal was to hit the screen.
Me
as long as you’re cool with a late dinner
