It was only nine in the morning, and yet the place was hot and smelled of sweat. About half the machines were taken; those remaining idle beckoned her forward with a malevolent finger. She didn’t know what to do with her gym bag, she didn’t know where to begin on the machines, and no one had given her so much as a glance, let alone a smile. It was moments like these that let her know how truly stupid her ideas usually were.

She found an unoccupied bench, dropped her bag at her feet, and sat down. Rather than looking stupid, trying to fake out that she knew what she was doing, she felt it was probably better to observe a while. Then, afterward, maybe she’d try to imitate.

She chuckled to herself.

As if imitation were possible. These guys were lifting Mack trucks. Staring at the grunting masses, bodies sculpted and defined, she could almost discern the striae in the voluntary muscle and the vessels that fed them. It was weird—like looking at three-dimensional pictures from Gray’s Anatomy. She found it interesting, but not at all sexy. The muscles seemed too waxen to be real. Probably because all the guys were hairless. Still, it was fascinating to watch the human body being stretched to the limit. Like observing a freak science experiment. So entranced by the motion, Cindy didn’t even notice the blocky body looming over her until he cleared his throat.

His bronze skin was shiny with oil. He had blond hair past his shoulders and wore a headband to keep the tresses out of his eyes. He looked like the cartoon character He-Man. His smile was nice, though. He sat beside her.

“Are you looking for someone?”

Cindy stared at her feet. “Not really. I thought…you know.” She looked up. “That maybe it was about time I started to do something with myself.”

His eyes slowly scanned her body, and he nodded. He was agreeing that she was a wreck. It made her feel terrible.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Cindy admitted.

“That’s obvious.”

“Thanks.”

He stuck out his hand. “Eric.”

She took it. “Cindy.”

“So what brought you here, Cindy?” Eric said. “Why not a health club?”

“I’m interested in building my body, not in getting picked up.” She smiled. “No offense.”

Eric smiled again. His teeth were too white to be real. “None taken. That’s the correct attitude. So much of what we do is attitude. The other part is hard work.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“By who?”

Cindy paused for just a second before she thought of a response. “By friends.”

“Who are your friends?”

“You don’t know them. They live in New York.”

“You’re from New York?”

“No, I just go to school there. Columbia.”

“Columbia, huh? That’s cool. There’s nothing wrong with brains and brawn.”

Cindy laughed. “So where do I begin?”