Molly flexed one last time, studying the hard lines of her biceps in the bathroom mirror. Yeah, that was more like it. If the word "wimp" had a human form, it wouldn't look anything like her. Gym sessions, home workouts... Holly and her little cardigans wouldn't even understand true strength.
A flicker of a smile crossed Molly's face. She still got a kick out of remembering Holly's face last week when she'd made that crack about her fluffy romance novel. The way those big brown eyes got all wounded for a second... some people were just so sensitive. Well, that's what you get for not having a backbone.
She grabbed her protein shake, the cold burning a satisfying trail down her throat. Book club tonight. Maybe it was about time she gave Holly another little nudge. Get her to finally crack, to rage quit. Yeah, that'd be almost as good as watching her squirm. Besides, Molly was doing everyone a favor. Holly added nothing to the group, never a strong opinion or a good argument. She was a book club buzzkill.
Smoothing a hand across her leggings, Molly grinned at the mirror. Tonight she'd show Holly where she belonged. It was time to inject a little real power into the book club.
Molly slammed the gym locker shut. The clang echoing the fury brewing inside her. A sheen of sweat covered her freckled face. Her fiery hair was a tangled mess, but her emerald eyes held an icy focus. Book club night. Holly would be there.
Molly had always clashed with Holly. The meek brunette who seemed to melt into the wallpaper. Her soft voice and preference for sappy romance novels drove Molly insane. She craved fierce debate, the clash of ideas -- none of which Holly provided. While the other women in the club seemed fine with Holly's quietness. Molly found a twisted pleasure in making her squirm.
Tonight wouldn't be any different. Molly's smirk spread across her face. She could already picture Holly's timid eyes widening at one of her pointed comments. It wasn't simply about getting a reaction though. There was an odd possessiveness building in Molly. A desire to purge Holly from their book club altogether. She saw herself as the spark the group needed, a force against Holly's milquetoast presence.
Clutching her gym bag, Molly left with steely determination. A redhead on a mission -- a mission to reshape book club in her own image.
Book club night was here, and you could practically taste the usual mix of excitement and nerves in the air. Tonight, though, there was an extra jolt in that cocktail, like something big was about to happen. Holly sat on the edge of her flowery armchair, feeling more like a cornered rabbit than a book lover. She tried to focus on her novel, but her stomach was doing flip-flops.
Molly was in full queen-bee mode, of course. She held court from the other side of the room, loud laughter and cutting remarks bouncing off the walls. Her bright red hair practically shouted for attention. Every mean little comment seemed to pierce straight through Holly -- it was their usual dance. Molly, the queen of mean, and Holly, the shrinking violet.
When the book discussion started, it didn't help. The story was about a woman with a backbone, and Molly couldn't resist. "Predictable. Typical woman falling for some big, brooding jerk. Why can't these characters have a spine? Just like some people..." Her eyes flicked right at Holly, like a slap across the face.
The room went dead quiet. Clara, always the cheerful one, practically broke her teacup with how hard she was squeezing it. Sweet Sarah looked ready to bolt. Holly's face felt on fire. It was decision time: ignore it, like always, or... or was it finally time to fight back?
The question echoed inside her, louder than a drumbeat. Yes, she was scared. But, as she looked Molly dead in the eye, something shifted. A little spark of defiance, a tiny flame of "I've had enough".
The memory hit Holly like a punch to the gut. Close-order drill. The merciless sun blazing down. Her body screaming while the drill sergeant's barked cadence filled her ears. "Backbone, soldier, do not yield!" The relentless discipline. Designed to break her down only to make her stronger. The sting of those days had faded over the years, but the lesson had burned into her soul.
Holly closed her book, her fingers tracing the cover. A slow determined smile spread across her face. When she looked up. Molly's smug smirk was wavering. A flicker of uncertainty replacing her usual arrogance.
"Brute you say?" Holly's voice. Usually so soft, carried an unexpected edge. "I spent four years in the Marines. Molly. Facing down real threats -- not the ones on your lifting program. Following orders, pushing beyond limits. Protecting those who couldn't protect themselves. That, dear Molly, is strength. Strength beyond anything those weights can build."
A hush fell over the book club. Molly's cheeks flushed beet-red. A mix of anger and surprise. Sarah's eyes widened, a touch of admiration replacing their usual wary kindness. Even Clara, ever polite offered Holly a small almost shy nod of encouragement.
Holly didn't wait for Molly's comeback. Instead, she picked up her book with a newfound air of authority. "Now" she said. Voice smooth and steady, "if we might be so kind as to return to our discussion about this duke and his complicated lady? I'm very interested."
She didn't need to see Molly's furious glare, or the subtle change that had swept over the book club. It was the shift in Holly herself that mattered. A quiet but undeniable strength had replaced her usual hesitancy. It wasn't the kind born from lifting weights -- it was the confidence of someone who'd faced a bully and refused to let their words define her.
Molly's pride burned like a bonfire fueled by humiliation. How dare Holly -- shy, unassuming Holly -- speak out against her? And to reveal she was a former Marine... it knocked Molly sideways. The hushed murmurs from the other women were like acid on her skin; she could almost taste their unspoken judgment.
But defiant heat prickled beneath the humiliation. Marine or not, Holly was still the girl who hid her nose in books. Molly had to find a way to tear her down, to send her scurrying back to the safety of her quiet world.
Her mind churned, desperate. Confronting Holly head-on would make her look petty. No, this needed a delicate touch, something to shatter Holly's confidence without leaving Molly's fingerprints on the wreckage.
Then it clicked. Holly had raved about the historical details of the book. That was her weakness. Molly's smile stretched, thin and sharp.
"Well," she purred, a venomous sweetness coating her words, "since you're practically a history professor, how about taking the reins next month? Let's dive into something deeper. A complex analysis, perhaps? You could enlighten us all with your insights."
The trap was laid. Holly, flustered and unprepared, would stumble over a dense text in front of everyone. It would be the perfect humiliation -- proof that Holly, with her quiet ways and bookish charm, didn't belong in their circle.
Holly left the book club meeting buzzing. A lightness she hadn't felt in weeks swirling around her. Thinking back to how she'd stood up to Molly still sent a little shiver down her spine. As she stepped outside, Clara, her ever-bubbly smile wide caught her.
"Whoa there, Holly!" Clara exclaimed. Her bright blue eyes twinkling. "Girl you were on fire tonight! Haven't seen you take a stand like that before."
Holly blushed, suddenly feeling a flicker of her old self. "Well I just..." Words stumbled on her tongue. How could she explain this newfound sense of power?
Clara gave her a gentle nudge. A mischievous glint in her eye. "Don't you worry, honeybun. You were a whole new level of 'don't mess with me'. It was awesome. Speaking of awesome." She lowered her voice. "I know this cozy little bar down the street. Perfect place to debrief. Drinks on me?"
