She was not what one would expect to find in a gym at two o’clock in the morning, but exactly what one envisioned when thinking about living at an urban utopia called The City Centre. She had to be about 5’5”, with a slim but curvy figure, and mid-waist hair that she had pulled into a ponytail. Had it been earlier in the night, she would have been the envy of every trust-fund princess with her busty, black sports bra, chiseled abs and butt-defining spanks. It was her shoes though that made Gretchen stop and watch.
They were Nike’s, of that Gretchen was sure. What she could not be sure of was the color, or colors. It was like someone had taken a white shoe and shot at it with a multi-colored paintball gun. It was every shade in the rainbow and then some. The only color that Gretchen could make out clearly was a bubblegum shade of pink.
The mysterious shoe girl walked through the doors as Gretchen was heading to the treadmills. She glanced toward Gretchen, and time seemed to stop. The mystery girl’s eyes were something of a honey brown that mesmerized, especially when they closed just a bit as she started to smile. Gretchen could only hope that it was meant for her.
“Tara!” called the mystery girl as she waved from the front desk.
Tara, the person the smile was meant for, was the Double-D cup redhead bouncing down the stairs. Though she’d made no outward indication of making an utter fool of herself, Gretchen quickly ran up the stairs to the treadmills before her embarrassment could begin to show on her face.
Gretchen wasn’t surprised, really; a little angry at herself for believing that the girl was even looking at her, but not surprised. At 5’5” and blonde with a relatively slim frame, Gretchen had no problems getting dates. However, believing that a smile from some random babe was meant for her was an entirely juvenile move on Gretchen’s part. She’d been out of high school for far too long to be making such mistakes.
It also did not help that Gretchen had no idea whether the other girl preferred women or not.
Deciding to put the issue out of her mind, Gretchen jumped onto a treadmill in the middle of the second row. She had no idea if it was the same in every Lifetime Fitness, but this one in particular set up about 4 rows of treadmills to face a wall of mirrors, of which the obligatory row of flat screen TVs was suspended along the top. Nothing Gretchen was truly interested in was on at this time of night, so she punched in her information on the treadmill and plugged in her earphones. Alex Clare was today’s music of choice.
Gretchen was about ten minutes into her run when Pink Shoes, as Gretchen had begun to think of her, walked into the treadmill area. Gretchen watched her in the mirror as she started to move toward the second row, but then changed her mind and headed for the first – stopping at the treadmill directly to the right of Gretchen’s. She tried not to dwell on the coincidence; it wasn’t as if there weren’t other people on the treadmills, but considering that third and fourth rows held one middle-aged man each, Pink Shoes could have had her pick of the room. Still, the trend seemed to be one person a row.
Then Pink Shoes began to stretch.
It wasn’t so much the stretching, but the way in which she stretched: nothing overtly sexual, but everything definitely there for Gretchen to see. She faced Gretchen as she stretched her arms, but had her eyes closed as her abundance of breasts seemed to strain against the confines of her sports bra. Her hands never seemed to leave her body as she moved into some torso twists, accentuating her abs. Pink Shoes then faced her treadmill as she bent over to touch her toes and Gretchen was treated to the curve of her butt. Gretchen tried not to stare, choosing to look ahead into the mirror, only to catch the smirk on Pink Shoes’ plump lips.
So entranced with the girl in front of her, Gretchen almost missed the words that the smirking mouth was forming. Stop it? Watch it? Watch This? The answer came in the next moment when Pink Shoes slid into a perfect split, making sure to bend forward so that her torso was on the on the floor. On her way back up, Pink Shoes seemed to bounce a bit whilst still in a split.
Hitting the pause button on her treadmill was all Gretchen could do to stop herself from slipping off and making an absolute fool of herself.
The man on the fourth row was not so lucky.
Gretchen ran to help him, if only to get away from Pink Shoes’ laughing eyes.
Later on, when the old man was sorted out and she was in the locker room, packing her bag to leave, Gretchen told herself that she had been imagining those minor exchanges between herself and Pink Shoes. The locker room doors opened and Gretchen looked up to see Pink Shoes making her way in. She looked as if she was about to say something to Gretchen when her friend from earlier emerged from another set of lockers with only a towel on.
“Amanda, babe,” called the red-head whose towel seemed to be doing little in the way of covering her assets. “Come join me in the showers. I know you had something to do with that old man falling. Getting prescriptions for Vitamin D now?”
“Never!” Amanda laughed at her friend.
Gretchen’s heart soared at this new tidbit of information. Unfortunately, she had no idea what to do with it. Deciding not to make any major decisions, Gretchen stood up and made her way to the door.
“Still picking up girls on Craigslist?” she heard Tara teasing the girl formerly known as Pink Shoes.
“Don’t give me that look; they’re not all bad,”
“So I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
“Shush!” Amanda squealed. Gretchen shook her head and laughed to herself as she left the gym.
“always see you around later at night past the rush hour people, hard to know what eye contact means at the gym. I’m the blonde, I think you’ve worn some shoes with pink on them… sorry there are so many colors in there I’m trying to remember!”
Originally written for aaalwritingcircle.tumblr.com as part of the Craigslist Missed Encounters Challenge