Free Web NovelChapter 57: Slam ball
"Won’t you get up?" He asked after getting tired of waiting.
"I can’t," I winced. "I need help." freёweɓnovel.com
Another sigh escaped his lips as he came over and lifted me.
"You can’t even run?" He looked at me.
"I can..." I lowered my gaze. freēwēbηovel.c૦m
"Then what happened?"
"I don’t know... Something might be wrong with it," I pouted, pointing at the treadmill.
He sighed and walked back to the stationary bicycle, picking up the slam ball. "You have to engage your core. Come," he called, and I went over to him.
He passed me the slam ball. "Try lifting the ball. It only weighs 5 kg."
"Okay," I said, lowering my body and reaching for the ball, but as I tried to lift it, I found it incredibly hard.
Why is it so heavy?
"Your posture is wrong," he noted. "Hold on." He stood up and came to me.
"Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, like this," he instructed.
"And slightly bend your knees. Grip the ball with both hands, arms extended," he continued.
"Ohhh," I nodded, watching him.
"Now lift the ball. Try lifting it a little," he said, placing the ball on the floor and backing away.
"Try lifting it like I did," he instructed.
"Okay," I said, repeating his actions. I was able to lift it a little.
"Can you try lifting it over your head?" He asked.
"I should... I should be able to do that." I placed the ball on the floor and repeated what he taught me.
I lifted the ball, but I couldn’t get it past my waist.
"Maybe you should warm up for two minutes. Warm up and try again," he suggested, sitting on the bicycle and taking out his phone.
"Alright," I carefully placed the ball on the floor.
Should I jog? I guess I should. After making up my mind, I started jogging, jumping, and spinning my arms to warm up.
Bryce is on his phone; he’s not watching me. I wonder what he’s doing. He said he wasn’t busy today, so why are his eyes glued to his phone? What is he doing?
If he has things to work on, he should leave; I also want to sleep. I don’t want this.
"What are you doing?" He asked, looking at me. His question snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Yes?"
"Why are you just standing here?" He groaned.
"Oh... Oh, I’m exercising." I started moving my arms again.
"There’s a jumping rope over there; skip two hundred times and get back here," he instructed.
Two hundred? Why? That’s too much.
"Ok..." I murmured and walked over to the rope. I picked it up, skipped twenty times, and then became tired.
I don’t think I can reach a hundred skips. Although I can’t do it now, I’ll try to skip thirty more times.
After giving it my all, I managed to complete fifty jumps.
"I’m done," I lied, approaching him.
"You only jumped forty-six times. Is forty-six the new two hundred?" He looked at me.
What? How did he know that? He was on his phone; did he count?
"You think I wasn’t looking at you?" His brows went up as he observed me.
"I... I..." I lowered my gaze, speechless.
"I don’t think we’re getting anywhere; we’ve been here for more than thirty minutes. Do you wish to spend your day in the gym?"
"I..." I don’t wish to be here.
"I... I’ll lift the ball now." I walked to the slam ball, took a deep breath, and stood with my feet shoulder-width apart. I bent my knees slightly, grabbed the ball with both hands, arms extended. I lifted it to my waist, then kept going until I successfully lifted it over my head.
I suppose the next step is to slam it to the ground, right?
I looked at Bryce, but he didn’t say a word; he continued watching me.
Okay, time to slam it on the ground. After taking another deep breath, I engaged my core and released the ball to the ground. After releasing it, I shifted so the ball wouldn’t hit me.
Bryce suppressed a laugh, sitting back on the bicycle.
"Your performance was below average, but I’ll give you a five out of ten," he said.
Five out of ten? I secretly scoffed. I gave it my all, and he gives me a five? I deserve at least an eight.
Ugh, he is so stingy and greedy.
"Repeat what you just did; do it many times until you get used to it. You’re here to improve your strength, power, and coordination," he murmured, eyes on his phone again.
I thought he wanted to train me. Why are his eyes glued to his screen? Can’t he focus on me? I rolled my eyes.
I want to lift this ball and slam it into his face. Will he faint if hit by this ball? I doubt it. He has the strength and hardness of a rock. But still, I’m curious. Will he get hurt? Will he feel it?
"Continue exercising, don’t slack off. I’ll be back." He stood up and started walking out of the gym.
"Okay," I muttered, watching him disappear. Once he was gone, I ran to the exercise mat and lay on it.
I’m tired, my head hurts, and I should get some sleep before he returns.
I closed my eyes and immediately drifted to sleep. In my dream, I saw myself in a swimming pool, drowning.
Help! Help me! I called for help, but no one heard me, and I kept sinking. Opening my eyes, I saw water trickling onto my face.
I immediately stood up.
Bryce was beside me, holding a jug of water—he’d been drenching me with it. I’m soaked; my hair and clothes are wet.
"Were you sleeping?" He asked.
"No," I replied, shaking my head.
"You weren’t sleeping?"
"Yes... I mean no. I was. I wasn’t; I only closed my eyes for a second. I was waiting for you," I said quickly.
"How long was I gone?"
"I... Five... Five minutes?"
"Five? I was gone for five minutes?" He asked.
"Yes."
"You’re wrong. I was gone for three hours, and you’ve been sleeping since I stepped out."
What? Three hours? How?
"I..." No, he must be lying. I just closed my eyes a minute ago. He is lying.
"Let’s go for lunch; it seems like you’ll spend the rest of your day in the gym," he muttered, starting to leave.
Why? Why did he leave in the first place? He shouldn’t take his anger out on me. He’s at fault too. Why was he gone for three hours? I angrily thought, and when I couldn’t hold my thoughts in, I spoke out loud:
"And where were you? Why did you leave me for three hours? Who did you meet? What did you do for three hours?"
After my questions, he stopped walking and turned to face me.
