Date: Wed, 11 Oct 2023 12:35:55 -0400 From: Christopher A Subject: Adam in the Locker Room Part 2 I hated starting at a new school during my last semester of high school. Sure, I knew I wouldn't have issues fitting in, and the scholarships had already started pouring in, but I hated the fact that I wouldn't be spending the last few months with the people I had spent the last four years with. Divorces are supposed to be tough, but honestly, I was just happy to not have to deal with the constant fighting. But couldn't my dad have waited a few more months before selling the house and moving us to a new part of town? That morning I decided to make the best of my new situation. There were things in life I had control of, and things I didn't. I had decided to maintain utmost control of those things, like my body, my fitness, my grades. So the weekend before the new semester I got a fresh haircut and made sure I was in top physique. I wasn't crazy about these private schools and their uniforms, but I grabbed a polo one size too small and decided to roll up the sleeves. My nipples poked out shamelessly with my muscular chest and I looked at myself in the mirror. I had finished up a chest and tricep workout that morning and was proud of the pump in my arms. I know what they say about me, I know what they think of me. I think all of it is true, but I like to think I'm a bit more complicated. I do like the attention, I work out my body to keep up with my basketball and volleyball, sure, but the hours and hours spent at the gym each week are to ensure I'm lusted after. I love turning heads at school, I love lifting my shirt up pretending I need to wipe my face, when really I want the world to see the abs I worked so hard for. I do have a cocky smile, I know I walk around with a certain arrogance. Yes it's all true. I always wonder why and how this happened? I think it all ties back to my control issues, the looks are the reward, they are the validation that I have it under control. That I'm working towards something attainable. The issue is, I always want more, I'm never good enough, and hidden behind my cocky smile there's a wave of insecurity being contained by trips to the gym, protein shakes, and diets. I'm walking down the hallway now, satisfied by the giggles, by the admiration. I pretend not to notice it at all, but I feel every single double-take, I see girls looking at one another from the corner of my eyes and I feel a sense of satisfaction and relief. As I continue walking down the hallway I see Chris. I knew I would run into him at some point, but I still wasn't prepared for it. I find myself fixated on my walk. How was I walking? Are my shoulders rolled back enough? Is my chest puffed out? Are my sleeves still rolled up? I try not to notice him, not to speak, I don't want to make a fool of myself so I continue walking. I run into the nearest bathroom and sit in an empty stall thinking about what I'm going to do. Chris is the athlete here, the star if you want to call it that. I have seen him at tournaments throughout the years and every time I see him I feel a weird sense of inadequacy that I'm sure a therapist could help me analyse. I realised early in our sports' careers that I was a better player than him. I ran faster up the court and could outdribble him in most instances. In the volleyball tournaments I was always able to avoid his blocks by timing his jump and position, and angling my spikes away from his hands. I couldn't deny he was a great player, but he was also very predictable. But Chris' body always seemed to be ahead of mine. I hated using this term even internally because there was something degrading about even thinking about it, but he had a much more masculine body. In the 9th grade, the first time I met him during the autumn volleyball season, I was envious of his developing body. I know now that everyone hits puberty at different times, but I hated seeing him at 6ft at such a young age. A masculine frame of broad shoulders and a wide set back was already developing. And I remember even seeing the thick bush under his arms had already developed while I had only sprouted a few hairs here and there. That first match against him had gone alright, our team had lost, and I hate to make excuses, but I really did have a bad team and I can confidently say that even then, I outplayed Chris. Now we were both 18, and by all accounts, I should have "caught up" to him. I should have the same build he does, the same strength and broad body. But no matter how much I worked out, I always felt thin next to him, weaker. My body was muscular, but there was too much youth in my look. Chris had scruff, thick dark brown hair, and thick eyebrows that always looked clean. During their team huddle, Chris' voice dominated their conversations and you could hear his deep booming voice from the other side of the gym. In one of our volleyball games last semester, Chris and I were facing each other with only the mesh of the net separating us. I studied his body and found myself lost in the contours of his muscles and the dark hairs on his arms and his legs. In an effort to show him I had a nice body too, I lifted my shirt, feigning that I was scratching my chest. But I wanted him to see my body too. Wanted him to feel the same sense of envy. Chris didn't have abs the same way I did, he was a bit too bulky for them, although he definitely had muscle. If I could pinpoint our first standoff or showdown (whatever you want to call it), I would say it was there on the court. Him staring at me flexing his arms, and me lifting up my shirt. I didn't know at the time, and I still can't figure out how it happened, but this would set off a series of comparisons, showdowns, and even bets between the two of us. ________________________________________________________________________________ I wasn't surprised to see Adam in my fourth-period fitness class. I was relieved that I had somehow avoided him in the locker room. But now here we were standing in a circle with the eight other guys who had decided that spending an hour every day working out for a credit wasn't a bad idea. Our teacher asked us to go around the circle and introduce ourselves which is always so awkward. Once it reached Adam I studied him extensively as he began speaking. He wore a bright pink tank top and loose black basketball shorts.I hated the contrast of his tanned skin against his obnoxiously bright shirt. I think he intentionally stood between Bob and Allen, who I don't think had ever touched gym equipment in their lives, in order to elevate a contrast. He spoke in his cocky voice. We all needed to be there, but Adam definitely had better things to do. "Hey how's it going" he began slowly", "Uhh I'm Adam and I'm just here to workout and let off some steam". He phrased his statement as a question and chuckled, as if being asked to introduce yourself to a group of strangers was the dumbest request ever. God, why the hell couldn't he have stayed at Riverside. Once our gym teacher had done the mandatory orientation, we were free to workout. Students had the option of following a routine with the teacher, or doing their own thing. I made eye contact with Adam and then looked at the bench press area and decided this is where I would begin. I knew just from our bodies that I would out bench press him easily. He walked over and took the bench next to me and as we prepared our plates we finally spoke: "Hey man, Chris right?" "Ya, was it Adam?" I stammered as if Adam was the most exotic name on the planet. We were both acting like complete idiots, we clearly knew each other, so what kind of game were we playing? "Ya man, do you need a spotter Chris?" "Nah man, it's all good, I don't think I'm hitting any PR's today, what about you? Need some help?" I asked condescendingly. "Haha, if I try and set some PR's I'll come find you". We both loaded our plates, completely aware that we were being watched by one another. I grabbed the 45lb plates, and noticed that Adam put his 35lb plates back and settled on the 45lb plates. I layed on my back and began pounding out 10 reps easily while Adam clearly struggled with his weight. "Should have stuck to the original weight" I thought to myself smiling as I watched him struggle. Adam looked at me as I easily put the barbell back and then sat up, cool as a cucumber. We looked at one another and Adam spoke, "ya I did a chest and tricep workout just this morning so I'm just taking it easy". Fucking hell, this guy is already coming up with excuses eh? If you already did a workout this morning, why not settle on the stairmaster, or better yet, hit the legs. Don't come over here, workout next to me and then belt out excuses. Fuck it, I thought, I'll show him. "Ah I gotcha, ya it's all good. I hope it gets easier next time. I'm just warming up actually, this is my warm up weight" I said confidently as I added two more plates to my barbell. From the corner of my eyes I could see Adam looked defeated. He wore a sense of disappointment, and I beamed with pride as I pounded out 8 reps of my heavier weight in front of him. "This is what he gets for being a cocky bastard this morning and ignoring me" I thought to myself triumphantly. ________________________________________________________________________________ Chris had humiliated me. Whether or not it was intentional I was pretty pissed off about what had just happened. I don't know why guys care so much about bench press anyways, isn't it more important to be fit, to be healthy, to have better endurance, to be a better player? So what if he could outlift me so dramatically? I found myself distracted by what had just transpired that I was having trouble finishing my sets. Yes it was true I was exhausted from my workout, but even at my best, there was no way I could lift even close to what Chris was lifting next to me. There it was, that sense of inadequacy. That "loss of control" feeling that I hated. I needed to do something, needed to assert myself and get some of my pride back. "This is so ridiculous" I thought to myself "why do I care so much?" But before I could convince myself to leave it alone and move on, I felt my lips moving and I started speaking, "You know Chris, you got a spotter right here, and it looks like you're crushing it. Why don't we try and get you a new PR right now?" ________________________________________________________________________________ I don't know what Adam was getting at or what his plan was, but I liked the thought of setting a PR right in front of him. I could tell from how much he struggled with the 35lb plates, that there really was no contest. But this was the perfect opportunity to rub salt in the wound and I was not about to pass up the opportunity. "Sure man, let's do it. Help me get set up and we'll get started". I motioned to the plates and stood up and prepared to crush a new PR. As I lay back down on the bench I looked up at the bar and noticed Adam was standing awfully close to me. I thought maybe he hadn't spotted someone before and didn't know you didn't need to stand so close, but being an athlete I highly doubted he hadn't done this before. "Are you ready?" he asked, with what I can only describe as mischief in his voice. "Uhh ya I think I'm ready I-" I suddenly lost my words as I looked up and realised I was looking straight up Adam's shorts. I could see the bulge inside of his white briefs. "What the fuck" I thought to myself. I needed to get back to my workout and as I grabbed the barbell I took another peak and started losing control of the bar. "Woah, slow down there man, gotta maintain focus. Is something distracting you?" the asshole asked in his cocky voice pretending he didn't know exactly what had just transpired. "Ya man, I'm good, give me a second". I sat up, looked at myself in the mirror and took a deep breath. I told myself to focus, to get this weight and hit that PR, I didn't even want to start thinking about what was happening, why I couldn't stop thinking about it. When I lay back down, Adam came and stood close to me again. I told myself not to look, to look only at the bar and nothing else. To focus on the weight, and not this cocky asshole who was playing some twisted game. As I tried my hardest to focus, Adam "adjusted" his bulge. I'm a guy, I've been known to scratch my balls, or adjust the sack, especially during a hot day or a sweaty workout. But this was different, I swear to God Adam was teasing me, he wasn't just scratching or adjusting, he was mocking me with it. I was furious, I felt like getting up and just fighting him. Leave this up to strength and finally beat the shit out of him like he so rightfully deserved. But before I could make any violent decisions, Adam spoke, "Oh bro, you might wanna hide that in here". I looked down at my loose gym shorts, and had not noticed that I was pitching a tent right in front of everyone! My erection was throbbing and I knew this wasn't one of those that could be talked down easily. "Don't worry" Adam mocked "it happens to the best of us". I tried to save face and made up some excuse about the blood pumping from the workout but I knew Adam wasn't buying it. I excused myself and Adam said he could put away the plates while I dealt with my "stiffy". I didn't say anything else. I was too embarrassed. I had nothing else to say. I ran to the locker room, stood at the sink and splashed cold water on my red face. I looked at myself, "What the fuck is happenign to me".