It's been a year since Clay, otherwise known as Porkchop, planned the graduation event in Newport Beach. The event where a handsome Tyler Hamilton caught Clay off guard by kissing him. Clay, up until that day, had never kissed a boy before.
At 24 ye...
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"GET it, Hamilton! Pump those weights! Feel that burn! Gain those gains!" Charles yelled. He was possibly the most enthusiastic and over-the-top spotter I'd ever lifted with. Meanwhile, Ben was standing nearby shaking his head at Charles for being so incredibly over-the-top. Except, for all Charles was doing, I had to hand it to him:
He was seriously motivating.
I liked lifting with Ben and Charles, because Ben was the calm one that kept us on task, and Charles was the loud one that cheered everyone on. He went so far as to cheer on practically anyone else who was using the weight room at the same time as us, too. He was extra, to put it simply. This was probably one of the last weight-lifting sessions I'd be able to get in with the two of them before Winter break. Because finals were right around the corner, and I'd be heading back to Newport Beach on the 15th of December to spend some quality time with my parents, Ethan, and Alex and Jesse, who were going to make the trip home for Christmas.
I was really excited to go home for some time. I missed my parents, and I especially missed Ethan. I even really missed Alex despite the troubles we'd been having after the stuff with Zach and Alexander. Good news was that I didn't really have to think of any of that. Alex knew her mistakes. Oh, and I was excited to see Jesse, too. I don't know, I missed that douche sometimes.
But I was also going to miss Georgia. Because on top of enjoying it here, and having basketball friends, and friends outside of that realm, Clay was also here. And I was realizing just how much I fucking liked him. A lot. I was realizing that as excited as I was to go home, I kind of wished Clay could come with me, or that I'd get to see him. Cause I guess leaving him made me feel a little sad. I just ... relied on him a lot. He was the best person I'd met, I was sure of it.
Thinking about Clay wasn't exactly good for lifting, though, cause it kind of made me lose my momentum. I had to snap out of it real quick and tune back into Charles, and his constant motivating yelling. Then, I could finish my final bench press reps and let the bar slip back into its notches on the rack.
I lay there on the bench and let my arms fall to my sides, dangling there.
"Hell yeah, you got it my guy!" Charles exclaimed. He held out his hand and clasped it with mine to help me pull myself up. Ben handed me my water bottle while I sat there and let myself just breathe and relax for a minute.
"Thanks," I said, gulping down a good amount of ice-cold water.
Today felt especially good working out. I wasn't upset, I wasn't angry, I wasn't anxious. I was just here. Working out for the sake of feeling good, boosting my mood more than it had already been boosted by the sudden wave of happiness in my life. The sudden sense of peace, and hope that I was really headed somewhere for the first time in years; headed, I thought, in the right direction.
My new goal was what Alexander said: incandescently content. I still thought his word choice was overly pretentious, but that's what made it so Alexander-esque. So I kept repeating it to myself. Because it also felt right. It felt a little extravagant, but that's why I thought it also fit so well with Clay. I thought it was possible to be incandescently content with him. Because that was just his spirit. Maybe, I couldn't be anything less than incandescently content with Clay.
