Dead Fit - 1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It all took place two months after graduating from Long Beach State. I was on cloud nine with my diploma in hand declaring my successful completion of the Exercise Science program. With my new job as a personal trainer at Sports Court, a full-service fitness center in Long Beach, I felt ready to conquer the world – or at least as soon as I could scrap together enough money to move out of my parents’ house.

Living with my parents wasn't all that bad. For the most part, they respected my privacy. Every now and then, my mom attempted to find out about my dating life. She was still uncomfortable asking if I had a “boyfriend.” Instead, she used clever euphemisms, like “special friend” or “buddy.” My observation is that some parents are one hundred percent comfortable with their kid being gay, other parents are totally uncomfortable, and most parents are somewhere in between. My parents were somewhere in between, with my mom closer to completely comfortable and my dad closer to completely uncomfortable. He belonged to the "don't ask, don't tell" camp.

It was Monday morning and I was running late to work. My friends tell me tardiness is a natural part of being a gay man and that I should just learn to accept it. Embrace it as part of my culture. I hate stereotypes, but I guess there's probably a kernel of truth in all generalizations. Lucky for me, my commute to work didn’t involve freeways; just a 15-minute drive on surface streets.

The employee parking lot was completely full. I pulled my Honda Civic into an empty spot reserved for members, hoping no one would rat me out for stealing valuable customer parking spaces. I hurried to the front door, the whole time keeping my eye out for the gym's general manager, Gary Curtwright.

Gary was an equal opportunity boss, treating all of his staff poorly. One reason I didn’t care much for him was his obsession with money. Gary was known to deduct money from your paycheck for being a few minutes late to work. But stay at work after your shift ended, don't expect to get paid overtime.

When I arrived at the front door to the gym, our receptionist, Ana Sanchez, greeted me with her usual pep.

"Morning, Jaysen. Better be on the lookout; the boss started asking about you 20 minutes ago." Like a good friend, Ana was always watching out for me.

"Twenty minutes ago? But I'm only 10 minutes late."

"He said something about filling in for Xavier for the rest of the week. I guess Xavier landed a role as an extra on some television show."

Xavier Lacayo was another personal trainer at the gym. Two years older than me, Xavier was also an alumnus of Long Beach State's Exercise Science program. While in college, we were in several of the same required general education courses. Xavier was quite the campus stud and always had beautiful female companionship. Initially I was attracted to Xavier, but after he opened his mouth, the attraction greatly diminished. Let’s just say his depth of conversation made some tide pools look like the Red Sea.

Xavier was the one who recruited me to work for Sports Courts and for that I was grateful. While Gary didn't seem to like any of his employees, if there was one employee he showed a little favoritism towards, it was definitely Xavier. That was because Xavier worked with all of the high paying clients and had an amazing record for retaining them and getting them to purchase other services and products from the gym. If Gary was ready to trust me with one of Xavier's wealthy clients, this was a good sign for my career.

I saw Gary step out of his office and scan the gym. When his eyes landed on me, he made a beeline straight to me.

"Marshall, I need you to fill in for Xavier. He's been hired for a walk on role as a Latin lover on some soap opera. Should have known he was the fruity actor type," he said. Homophobia was another reason to dislike my boss.

"No problem, Gary. When is Xavier's first client,” I asked.

"In twenty minutes. I'm only giving you one of his clients and dividing up the rest with the other trainers. But you're getting the most important one, so don't mess up."

Gary handed me a file folder. The tab indicated Xavier’s client to be a Brian Davenport. Gary droned on, "Mr. Davenport here is a wealthy business man. He owns a commercial real estate management company. Beyond that, he's well known in the banking and finance community. One bad word about our gym and we'll have a reputation all over the community. Don’t screw up, Marshall."

"I'll handle him with kid gloves," I reassured my boss. For theatrical emphasis, I gently opened the file folder with my fingertips, being very careful not to leave any smudges. Ana winked at me, letting me know she appreciated my dramatics. Gary missed the humor, but seemed satisfied with the attention I was giving to Mr. Davenport and scurried back to his office.

As I was getting ready to head back to the staff desks, Ana said to me, "You're going to love your new client."

"Oh yea?"

"Let's just say that he's got to be the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Not my cup of tea, but I'm willing to bet he's your flavor."

From my first day at the gym, Ana knew about my sexual orientation. She actually called me out on it shortly after we met. She asked me if I had a girlfriend, and when I said no, she proceeded to ask me if I had a boyfriend. I made a funny face at her question, not because I was denying her legitimate inquiry, but because I was surprised she figured it out so quickly. She reassured me that it was okay and that my secret was safe with her. Since that day, she was my closest friend at the gym.

"But the question is, how do you know I'm his flavor," I asked Ana.

"I don't. I don't even know if he's gay." How reassuring.

I rolled my eyes at Ana and headed to my desk to review Brian's file. He joined the gym five years ago and over that time, spent tens of thousands of dollars on supplements, personal training sessions, and fitness attire. No wonder Gary referred to him as an important client. More like a high-spending one.

Brian's profile was impressive: Male, 27, 5'10", 165 lbs, 8% body fat. Blood pressure, heart rate and cholesterol reports from his physician all indicated he was well within normal range. Based on his training logs, it looked like Brian spent quite a bit of time at the gym. Two days a week on his own and two days a week with Xavier.

I continued to flip through Brian's file, making notes about what we would work on when he arrived. At exactly half past the hour, a man walked through the front door and checked in at the reception desk with Ana. As she scanned his membership card into the computer, Ana had a bigger-than-usual smile on her face. She returned his card and started speaking animatedly with him. His back was towards me, so I couldn't see his face. But when she pointed to me, I knew the customer was Brian. He turned around to look at me, nodded at Ana, and headed in my direction.

As Brian walked towards me, I had a chance to look him over. Ana wasn't kidding; he really was a beautiful man. Brian had short, brown hair. His facial features were distinguished - high cheek bones, square jaw line, prominent nose.

Brian was wearing grey basketball shorts and a blue sleeveless t-shirt. His arms weren’t overly muscular, but they were well defined. His shirt fit snugly on his body and I could see his chest and shoulders were broad. His torso tapered nicely to flat abs and a healthy waistline.

Brian's glowing tan suggested he spent quite a bit of time outdoors or on the beach. He didn’t strike me as a surfer, though. He was a little too groomed for that kind of lifestyle.

Brian walked confidently towards me and introduced himself. “Hi, I'm Brian Davenport.” His smile revealed perfectly straight and bright white teeth. I wondered if his pearly whites were natural, or if they had been dentally-enhanced.

I stuck my hand out and greeted my surrogate client. “Hello, Brian, my name is Jaysen Marshall. Xavier is out for the rest of the week, so I’ll be working with you.”

“Nice to meet you, Jaysen,” he replied. Brian had a nice handshake, firm and commanding. His hands were a bit rough, probably callused from lifting weights.

I had the fleeting impression that while he was shaking my hand, Brian was giving me a head-to-toe look over. I couldn't quite tell if he was sizing me up to see if I would be a worthwhile substitute for Xavier, or if he was checking me out. I was kind of hoping it was for the latter; but either way, at least he didn't cringe at what he saw.

"Any problems or pain after the last time you worked out with Xavier?"

"No, not at all,” he responded. Brian's voice was deep and his brown eyes were warm. Making eye contact with strangers had always been difficult for me. But with Brian, his good looks made it even tougher.

"Well, since you worked on chest, back, and legs last, today we'll work on arms, shoulders and abs."

"Great, let's get started."

We spent an hour working out on free weights and machines. As we went from station to station, it became apparent to me that Brian's knowledge about fitness was greater than the average guy. His awareness of form and technique were nearing that of an educated fitness professional. The only clue I had that Brian wasn't a professional was the terminology he used to describe anatomy and movement leaned towards words and phrases regularly found in mainstream fitness magazines. Nevertheless, compared to the fitness knowledge of my other clients, his was impressive.

I spotted for Brian while he lifted free weights, taking every opportunity to steal glimpses of him when he wasn't paying attention. On occasion, his t-shirt would bunch up, exposing just a bit of his flesh. What I saw was enough to make me very grateful that Xavier was gone for the day. I could see that I wasn't the only one checking out Brian. I saw other gym members, female and male, taking in his handsome appearance. I wondered if any of them wished they could trade places with me.

We exchanged few words during Brian's training session, which was somewhat a relief to me. Brian wanted to concentrate on his workout, and quite frankly, I wasn't sure what to say to him. I tried to mutter some encouraging words here and there, but he seemed oblivious to my efforts.

Our time together passed quickly and at the end of our session, I took Brian back to my desk to complete routine paperwork. He sat across from me as I recorded his workout in his client file. When I was satisfied I had crossed all my t's and dotted my i's, I checked Brian's file for his next session.

“So, the next appointment I have down for you is Friday morning, 10:30.”

“Will Xavier be back on Friday,” Brian asked.

“Actually, you're still stuck with me. Xavier won't be back until next week.”

“Good. I'm glad I'll be with you again, Jaysen. Maybe next time I'll actually get a chance to know you a little better.”

What he said caught me off guard. I assumed when he asked if Xavier would be back on Friday, it was his way of saying he preferred Xavier over me. I wasn't quite sure how to take his comment. I tried to think of something clever to say back to Brian, but nothing was came to mind. So I did what I typically do when I don't know what to say - I stared at him with a puzzled look on my face, my mouth slightly open. Nice. I'm sure I looked hot.

Brian smiled as though he were proud he caught me off guard. He got up, half-winked and said, “See you on Friday.”

I watched Brian walk out the door. He passed by Ana's reception desk on the way out, but she was too busy helping a woman complete a membership application to notice.

While I waited for my next client to arrive, I slouched in my seat for a bit and thought about what just happened. The whole session seemed like a blur to me. I hated to admit it, but Ana was right – I did find myself physically attracted to Brian. His personality seemed awesome, too, and I was interested in getting to know him better. It was hard for me to figure out if the feeling was mutual. Thankfully, the rest of my morning schedule was booked with back-to-back personal training sessions. Keeping busy was always a tactic that successfully distracted me from acknowledging and working through my feelings. Not a healthy thing for me to do, but certainly a way to protect myself.

While I worked out with my clients, a few times I looked over at Ana and I could tell she was dying to talk to me about my session with Brian. It wasn't until lunch that we had a chance to debrief. We were barely outside the doors of the gym when the flood of questions came pouring out of her mouth.

“So, how did it go? He's totally cute, isn't he? You think he's gay?”

“Ana, slowdown. First, it went well, and the 'it' I'm referring to is the personal training session. And yes, I do think he's cute.” I didn't bother answering her third question. It wasn't that I was intentionally choosing not to answer her, it’s just I wasn’t sure of the answer.

“I knew it. I can read you like a book,” she said.

Ana was right; she could read me like a book. She had this gift of being able to figure out people beyond the superficial, kind of like a cross between a clairvoyant and a psychologist. When it worked in my favor, I liked this quality about Ana. She could help me dissect peoples’ true personality, who they were at their core. But when Ana was using her talent on me, it really bugged me. I felt like I was being x-rayed by a doctor who could tell me all my ailments, but couldn't give me a cure.

We walked the five blocks to Subway in silence. The introvert in me enjoyed the silence; it gave me an opportunity to sort my thoughts, process the events of the day, and plan for my afternoon appointments. I knew Ana, however, was dying to fill the void with mindless chatter. Typical extrovert, always wanting to talk things out.

We ordered our sandwiches at the counter and found an empty table by the beverage dispenser. I was enjoying my tuna on white when Ana blurted out, “I think you should totally ask him out. What have you got to lose?”

“I dunno. I don't get a strong gay vibe from him.”

“You don't have a gay vibe, either,” Ana countered. She had a point there.

“Even if he is gay, I wouldn’t know how to ask him out. Remember? I've never dated a guy before. I've never even kissed a guy.”

“There are subtle ways of asking someone out without actually asking someone out. I do it all the time with guys I meet at the gym,” Ana said.

“Wait a minute, you've asked guys out who are members of the gym? What about our 'no fraternizing with members' policy?”

“Oh please, that policy is like a speed limit sign. It may be illegal to go faster than the posted limit, but the police always give you a little wiggle room before you get a ticket. Like I said, Jaysen, there are ways of asking someone out without actually asking them out.”

“Okay, so let's say that he is gay. How am I supposed to know if he likes me?”

Ana sighed and rolled her eyes at me. “Normal adults don't go around wondering if someone is going to 'like' them. That's what you do in middle school. And, I know, I know, you've told me a millions before, now that you've come out, it's just like going through puberty all over again. But you have to stop being so shy if you're ever going to find someone.”

“I dunno, Ana. You know, before I came out, I thought that once I had the balls to tell people I was gay, finding someone was going to be easy. I thought the guys would just be lined up ready to date me. Now that I am out, it seems just as hard as before. Maybe I'm not meant to fall in love.”

Ana frowned. “You're starting to sound like me. Maybe we’re not destined for love.” I could tell our conversation was reminding her of her own situation and it was bringing down her otherwise perky attitude.

"Ana, stop pouting. So you haven't had the best luck when it comes to dating…"

“That's an understatement,” Ana interrupted, “Straight up rotten luck is more like it.”

While Ana was great at figuring people out, this talent never seemed to carry over to her own dating life. She had a track record for being attracted to guys who were a little less than normal. In the two months I had known Ana, she had been in three different relationships. She met her most recent boyfriend online. They courted each other intensely via email for almost a week. When they finally met in person, they skipped the pesky parts of dating, like dinner and a movie, and headed straight to Ana's bedroom. After they did the deed, he showered and Ana snooped through his wallet. She found a picture of his wife. When Ana confronted him about the picture, he claimed that the woman was his sister. The only problem was he and his “sister” were kissing in the picture.

Her boyfriend before that was fired from his job. It happens to all of us and in most circumstances is forgivable. Except that he worked at a pet store and was caught having intimate relations with a giant Koi fish. No one could quite figure out how that worked.

And before that, Ana dated a guy who got stoned several nights a week. His recreational drug use didn't bother Ana until he fell asleep while smoking a joint and started his apartment on fire. He managed to escape, but completely singed the hair on his head, and elsewhere, too. Ana dumped him at the prospect that if he pulled the same stunt at her apartment, she would be bald.

“I'm curious, why did you tell me that Brian wasn't your cup of tea?”

Ana sighed, “He's too pretty. I can't have a man who is prettier than me. That wouldn’t be right.”

“No one could ever be prettier than you, Ana.” That got her to smile again.