"Alright, I'm done," declared Miguel, walking around the other guys to drop his dumbbells beside the weights Sensei Lawrence had provided in the back room of the dojo.
Hawk shook his head as he sat on the bench press. "Weak." He caught the look Miguel shot at him after wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Well, if you need a breather, how about you spot me?" asked Hawk, lying on his back.
After a quick sip of water from his bottle, Miguel joined him and assisted in lifting off the barbell. "Why've you been going so hard this week?" he asked, keeping his hands near the bar while Hawk lifted it.
"I told you," said Hawk, pushing the weight up with a strained breath, "we gotta kick up our routine if we're gonna get swol by senior year."
Knowing full well their senior year was quite a while away, Miguel's face squinted, like he didn't believe that was the whole truth. His voice was low when he asked, "Is this about Aisha calling you a 'skinny ass' the other day?"
Lifting the barbell up and down again, Hawk let out a forced laugh, trying not to focus on the sweat that stung his eyes as is dripped down his flushed face. "Nah, why would I care about that?"
"Yeah, she didn't mean anything by it, everyone was just joking around," assured Miguel.
Hawk knew that. It was all in good fun. Besides, it didn't matter that the other guys overheard and laughed at her joke, too, right? Because all of them knew he could wipe the floor with any of them. They still knew he wasn't someone to mess with. And if they needed a reminder of that truth, he'd be happy to provide it.
Hawk could feel something mean swell inside him at that malicious thought, and tried burying it as he continued lifting.
He knew he was, by all accounts, physically fit. Himself from a year ago would never have believed he was capable of it. But he was still smaller than he wanted to be. And he remembered how it felt to be sized up by the other boys and found lacking. Nobody wanted to be the skinnier - the weaker - guy.
He didn't want to look in the mirror and be face to face again with the old wimpy beta male he used to be.
The bar weighed down heavily on his chest and when Hawk tried to lift it up this time, his arms shook from the strain. He'd worked them too hard that week, and his muscles burned as he pushed them past it to try and lift the barbell.
But he couldn't, and the only thing that stopped the weight from dropping back on him was Miguel grabbing the bar, helping him lift it back on the rack.
Sitting up on the bench, Hawk accepted a hand towel from Miguel.
"How about let's call it a day?" Miguel suggested, patting him on his shoulder.