I don’t even have the chance to get a word in before she starts.
“How was Pilates, superstar?” She laughs, “Find your inner Zen? God knows you need it.”
I scoff. “Zen? I just used muscles I didn’t even know I had – and they all hate me now. I’m in so much pain.”
Gigi snorts. “That bad, huh?”
“Worse. I can’t believe I have to do this for, like, two months. It might actually be the death of me.” I mutter. Because… Seriously, this may actually kill me.
“Sounds like someone’s being a little dramatic.”
I’m not though. I swear I’m not.
“You try contorting into these random positions while she stands over you saying dumb shit like “belly button to spine” and whatever else. I swear, it’s torture.”
Gigi is silent for a beat. “She?”
Fuck. I should have fucking known she would home in on that.
“Uh… yeah. The instructor – Scarlett – she’s uh… really committed, I guess. To my form and all that. Yeah.” Why am I acting like a schoolboy with a crush? I don’t even like her.
“Uh-huh…” Gigi starts, “So you think she’s hot, don’t you?” Fuck.
“Well, maybe. I mean she’s easy on the eyes, though she’s way too pushy. So, take that as you’d like.”
“Hmmm. So, you hated the workout but liked the view, huh?” I need this conversation to be over, I can’t deal with this shit.
“Stop it, Gige. I’m not in the mood.” I snap.
“Alright. Just take it easy there, Romeo.” She teases. God, she’s irritating.
We’re silent for a moment before I decide to break it.
“Have you spoken to dad recently?" I ask cautiously.
Dad hasn’t reached out since the injury – it's the radio silence that concerns me.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, he called.” My heart skips a beat. Why would he have called Gigi and not me? I’m the one that got injured.
“Yeah? What’d he say this time?”
Gigi is silent. Long enough that I have to check if the call dropped.
Eventually, she responds with a sigh. “Just that you should’ve seen that hit coming. That you should’ve played through the rest of the game.”
I laugh sarcastically. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
I would have expected nothing less, to be honest.
“I’m sure he doesn’t mean it like that.”
I scoff. “Gigi, of course he means it like that. Don’t stay down, don’t let them see you in pain. He’s been saying it forever, why would he stop now?”
“I’m sorry, Lev. You’re allowed to hurt, you know.”
I’m quieter when I say, “Not in his world, apparently.”
Silence encompasses us before I decide it’s time to wrap this conversation up for now.
