Chapter Seven: The Gym

I was listening to Nasty C through the speakers in the Matthews' home gym. I was panting, tired and overworked but I was having too much fun to stop. And the more I worked out, the fainter the image of a naked Jackass was. I had to get it out of my brain. Or I would never look at him the same. It should have given me the same feeling I got when I accidentally saw my dad naked. A feeling of revulsion and complete mortification. But those weren't the feelings the image evoked inside me. And that is why I needed to get the image out. I was running steadily on a Stair Master, loving the burn in my thighs. I was wearing a bright pink sports bra and black running shorts. My body ached, especially my back. But I couldn't bring myself to stop. I suddenly didn't have the willpower or strength to force my legs to stop. My mind was in overdrive, replaying the scene I witnessed about an hour ago, over and over again in my head like a never-ending movie. His abdomen, his bulging muscles, the aggression, and pure lust on his face; the fire in his eyes and even his smaller self, which was anything but small. It was overwhelming, almost suffocating and I wanted it to stop. I couldn't think about my principal in that way. I admit that he's attractive. He looks like he stepped out of a Sports Illustrated magazine. His smouldering looks were enough to thaw my resolve. Good God, why is this happening to me?

I had been at working out for about 40 minutes now, and on the Stair Master for 15 without taking any breaks, alternating between walking, jogging, and sprinting up the conveyer belt stairs. I needed to be in shape at all times. My legs finally decided that they had had enough and threatened to give way, so I switched the machine off and carefully walked off the contraption. When my feet made it to solid ground, the effects of such a heavy workout caught up with me and they gave way. I let out a small whimper as I waited for the impact. But the impact never came.

"Jesus Azania, are you trying to hurt yourself?" his breath tickled my ear, sending shivers down my spine. I didn't even hear him come in. My eyes fluttered involuntarily, and suddenly I was swimming in fatigue. All I wanted to do was fall asleep in his arms. That thought alone made me jolt upright and slip from his strong arms.

"Principal Matthews! Uhm-no ... of course not! I ... uhm-urr ... lost track of time." I stammered, feeling my face burn from embarrassment. My eyes travelled down his body on their own accord, blushing as the image of his naked body flashed through my mind.

"So ... I'm 'Principal Matthews' now? What happened to 'Principal Jackass'?" he asked with a smirk. Just when I thought that my face couldn't get any darker, I was proven wrong.

"What? How do you know that I call you that?" I asked in disbelief.

"So, you're not denying it?" he pressed with a smug look on his face.

"Yes. No. Urgh whatever. Where did you even get that from?"

"Your dad is kind of a blabber mouth." He chuckled and walked further into the room, lowering the volume and taking my eyes with him. I started undressing him with my eyes, but I immediately stopped before my face turned red again.

"I have been called a lot of names in my life Azania, but I must say, 'Principal Jackass' is the most suitable." I wasn't really focused on what he was saying. My eyes were fixated on his muscles that were flexing as he lifted a dumbbell from the ground.

"Uhm, that is one thing we can agree on." My reply felt disconnected from the rest of my body. I kept my eyes on him, my heart pounding in my ears. He was wearing grey shorts and a muscle vest, but when I looked at him, he was naked. His body was like a magnet, and I was a bobby pin. I felt so drawn to him. But I had to remember who and what he was, and suddenly he was clothed again. I walked towards the bench to retrieve my towel and I started wiping the perspiration from my face, arms, stomach, back and legs. I could feel his eyes on me, weighing me down and making the air in the well-ventilated room heavy.

"Uhm, I'm just gonna go. Enjoy your workout Mr Matthews." I said in a small voice and walked towards the door.

"Wait." His voice was soft yet demanding. I slowly turned and looked at him, feeling my heart hammer violently against my ribcage.

"About what you saw earlier," he started to say, his face red from embarrassment. Mine matched his and I rapidly shook my head to stop him from talking.

"Oh, uh- don't worry. Can we just not talk about it? It's kinda awkward, you know, with the whole student and principal thing. What you do with your wife is none of my business anyway so uhm, we should just pretend that it never happened. Yeah?" my face and body language were calm. But I was the exact opposite in the inside. I felt like crawling into a dark cave and never coming out.

"Yeah, sure. Did you get to school okay this morning?" He asked softly. He was standing by the free weights section, seemingly looking for a specific plate.

"Uhm ... yeah. Thanks for the coffee, by the way. You didn't have to." I said to him, still standing at the same spot. He scratched the back of his neck uncharacteristically and chuckled.

"Certain things I can't unlearn, no matter how hard I try." He said to himself, still avoiding my eyes.

"What are you trying to unlearn?" I asked curiously.

"Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about." He picked up the plate he was looking for and walked over to the squat rack, sliding the plate onto the bar. He called me pretty.

"Uhm, okay..." I didn't know what else to say. I guess I should leave him to his exercise.

"So, the netball captain wants to injure herself, huh?" he said, having finished loading the weight on the bar. He ducked under the bar and positioned it comfortably on his shoulders.

"Absolutely not. I just got carried away, 'is all." I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm sure the biokineticist at school has taught you how to train safely." he said, and then huffed and lifted the bar from the rack and took a few steps back. He met my eyes in the mirror and held it when he started to squat.

"My dad taught me not to do certain things, but I do them anyway." I said to him, still holding his gaze through the mirror.

"Touché. So, you weren't trying to hurt yourself, but you weren't following safety guidelines which would eventually lead to hurting yourself?" He asked with amusement, huffing and puffing through his set.

"Well, I wasn't really thinking so I can't tell you what my intentions were." I said to him.

"Do you ever think?" He asked as he finished his set and racked the bar. I laughed in disbelief.

"What kinda question is that?" I asked him, cocking my head.

"A valid one." He said simply.

"A stupid one." I replied defiantly. My body had cooled down and was littered with goosebumps so I rubbed my arms with my hands.

"Tsk tsk Azania. Could you bring me a Powerade from the fridge, please?" he was rearranging the plates on his bar again. I walked to the bar in the corner, still amused that they have a bar in the gym. I grabbed a Mountain Blast Powerade for him and a Jagged Ice one for me and sauntered over to where he was squatting again. I put it on the bench with his phone.

"Are you done training?" he asked after thanking me. I didn't want to leave yet, so I said no.

"Want to squat?" he was done with his second set, drinking the Powerade I brought him. I watched his Adams apple bob up and down as he swallowed. Do I have a throat fetish?

"I'm pretty sure you were there when I fell from my chair and injured my tailbone." I answered in a 'duh' tone.

"Oh yes, that was hilarious." He said, chuckling to himself. Probably thinking about the trip to the hospital last Friday night. I buried my face in my hands and groaned.

"You promised me that that would never see the light of day! We're supposed to take that to the grave!" I complained and he laughed.

"Aw really? So I can't even talk about the time they gave you morphine and you thought I was-"he started but I jumped over the bench and put my hand over his mouth, halting his speech. I could feel his lips stretch into a smile against my palm, tickling me ever so slightly.

"Shut up Anthony!" I growled and he gently wrapped his slim fingers around my wrist and pried it off his face.

"You just called me Anthony." He said with a grin. I rolled my eyes and huffed.

"Shut up." I uttered and flopped down on the spring floor.

"It's rude to tell someone to shut up, you know." His voice was a velvet soft melody to my ears. When I turned my head to look at him, he was already looking at me, and for a second, he was naked. I blinked the image away. "Well, I'm training legs today. You're welcome to join me."

"You wouldn't mind?" I asked him, shocked.

"Why would I mind?" he asked me. He returned all the plates to the free weight section.

"I mean ... you're you." I said with a shrug of a shoulder.

"And who is me?" he asked me, adding more plates on the hack squat machine. The man really loves his squats.

"Am I allowed to say an asshole?" I tested. He stopped and looked at me, his face hard but his eyes dancing with laughter. My heart fluttered in my stomach.

"You may not." I could hear the humour in his voice; making me sag with relief.

"Then that's really going to limit my vocabulary." He laughed at that, and I laughed with him. It felt really odd. Like I was fraternizing with the enemy. The thought made me frown.

"I have to go." I said hastily and stood up, grabbing my towel from the bench. He turned to look at me, confusion on his face. "I thought you're joining me for a leg session?" confusion was in his voice too. I shook my head. I wouldn't even be able to explain why I had to leave if I tried. I just knew that I had to. I could feel it in my bones. I turned around to walk away but he grabbed my wrist and stopped me.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency. His face was etched in a frown, looking at me in scrutiny.

"Nothing, I uh ... I'm tired. The adrenaline has worn off and I feel like I have been run over by a truck. I uh, I need a shower before dinner." I explained, looking at the floor. Nothing was said for a few moments, and then I heard him sigh.

"Alright, don't let me keep you." And just like that, he was Principal Jackass again. I turned around and walked out, never looking back. But I could see him looking at me in the mirrors. The frown still firmly planted on his chiseled face.