I’ve been here since before sunrise.
Someone’s playlist switches over to old-school hip-hop.
Dex jerks his head toward the speakers. “Who put this on?”
Bryce smirks. “What, you don’t like it?”
“I like it fine,” Dex says. “I just don’t need a soundtrack reminding me I can’t rap and shouldn’t try.”
Eli laughs. “That didn’t stop you last road trip.”
“That was confidence,” Dex says quickly. “Different thing.”
Gabriel shakes his head. “You were off-beat for three straight verses.”
Dex points at him. “Leadership is knowing when to lie for your teammate.”
Familiar. The kind of noise and rhythm that usually keeps my head straight.
Then Dex glances at the stack of plates I’ve loaded and his grin falters.
“Dude,” he says, dropping his voice a notch. “Are you training for a prison yard fight?”
I rerack the bar with a hard, clean clank and add another plate.
The bar dips.
My arms shake.
Good.
Pain is simple. Pain makes sense.
Unlike everything else.
I finish the set and rack the bar harder than necessary. The clang echoes through the room.
“Jesus, Cap,” Dex says from behind me. “You mad at the weights or trying to intimidate them into submission?”
I don’t turn around.
“Morning to you too,” he adds.
I grab my towel and wipe my face.
“Morning.”
That’s all he gets.
Normally, that would earn me a comment. A chirp. Something about me being grumpy before coffee.
Instead, there’s a pause.
I feel it without looking.
Guys start filtering in. Shoes squeak. Music switches. The room fills the way it always does.
Someone argues about fantasy football rankings even though it’s not football season.
