"You're doing great, just a little more," said Keith. It was easy for him to say.
Anna took another deep breath, gathered her focus, then resumed her leg curls. She was sure her legs must have had more lactic acid than blood at this point, but this body wasn't going to maintain itself.
Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
She let her muscles relax and the ache shot through them again. She leaned over and grabbed her phone, the fingerprint unlocking it before it had reached her line of sight.
"A little distracted today, love?"
There were no notifications. She sighed.
"Oh um, yeah. Just waiting on an important message."
She stared at the time. It had been half an hour.
Why isn't he responding to me?
"Do you need to step out for a minute?"
"No, it's fine," she said, then nervously giggled, although she felt like a concentrated ball of anxiety and dread. She almost didn't notice the physical aspects of her exhaustion for a moment.
She put her phone down again and stood up.
"Ok, time for the cool down darl," he said.
Keith was a total hottie, like a younger, ripped Keanu. He was from some middle-of-nowhere rural town originally, which was kind of charming in it's own way. He wasn't on the menu, though. Anna had long ago been informed by some of the regulars that he batted exclusively for the other team. That suited her just fine, and some of the women who came here felt safer around him because of it. Anna got into position and started moving her arms around to loosen up.
"Jogging on the spot," he said.
Her body went through the motions, but her mind was firmly fixed on something else.
"Ok, let's do some static stretching today."
The hamstring stretch felt particularly good, but she still kept stealing glances over to her phone. The seventh time she looked over, the notification LED was flashing. Anna stood up mid stretch and raced over to it.
"Sorry, I have to respond to this," she said. Keith just shrugged.
She unlocked the phone and opened the message.
"Ok," it read. She waited to see if he was typing a followup, but it didn't seem like he was.
Her heart sank. She'd told the Doctor that she was going to the gym, and she was hoping that he would
like
that. She couldn't remember a lot of her therapy, but she did know that external validation was very important to her, and keeping her body in top shape was a part of that. It made perfect sense once he'd pointed that out. So many of her behaviours were based around it and she'd never even really noticed. Sometimes it felt like the Doctor knew more about her than she did, but she supposed that was why he was paid the big-bucks. He was a true professional, and she really, really cared about what he thought of her. Sure, a lot of the guys at the gym gave her stares, but that wasn't the same.
I wish he could see me here.
She resumed her cool down exercises, but an idea started forming in her head.
"I'm sorry, I'm going to have to cut this short today," she said.
"Ok," he said, scepticism coating his voice. "Just take care of yourself, alright? If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know."
"Thanks Keith," she said.
Anna grabbed her towel and phone and darted into the change rooms. She found a mirror, then unlocked the phone and opened the camera. She raised the towel to her forehead then stopped.
Would he prefer it with the slight sheen? What if he likes women kinda sweaty? Oh god, but what if he hates it?
She decided not to risk it and wiped herself down. She quickly found her favourite angle and snapped a photo, making sure to catch her gym clothes in the frame.
She opened up the chat window and hesitated.
What the hell am I doing? He's my therapist!
But then she was struck by another thought.
He might be able to tell me if people would like this. If he would like this.
She shuddered at the thought. She looked down at her phone and realised that she'd already sent it.
Doctor Nicholas J. Stewart has seen this.
She couldn't breathe.
Pop
. The pleasure struck her -- hard.
"
Oh fuck
," she said aloud to nobody. Her knees were jelly and her jaw hung open and the feeling washed through her. Her eyes rolled back slightly.
The doctor hadn't just liked something. The doctor had liked
her
.
She sat and basked in the feeling. She looked at his reaction over and over again, each time feeling a smaller and smaller jolt of pleasure. Anna was unsure about a lot of things in her life. What she wanted to do, who she wanted to be with. But she was sure of one thing -- she needed more of that.
She opened up her photo gallery and scrolled through. There was no shortage to choose from. She hovered over one that she liked, but froze.
I can't just send him pictures of myself with no context. Can I?
She stood in silence.
Get a hold of yourself girl! He's my therapist!
She took some slow, deep breaths, then attempted to summoned the motivation to move. The trouble was, she didn't want to. Her thumb was still hovering over the screen when it suddenly dimmed. She scarcely noticed her thumb moving before it hit send again.
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck...
Waiting for his reply was bringing back feelings she hadn't felt since the day her final exam results were being released.
Doctor Nicholas J. Stewart has seen this
.
Her heart skipped a beat, but the feeling was quickly burred by anxiety again. She waited for a reaction or a reply. And waited. And waited. When five minutes had passed, she was ready to cry.
Oh my god what am I doing? Why did I even send the stupid ugly picture?
Somebody opened the door to the change rooms. She stood up and tried to act cool. The stranger smiled at her, and she smiled back, then moved to the exit. She couldn't keep her breathing steady. She scampered down to her car, got inside, then opened her phone again.
Doctor Nicholas J. Stewart is typing a message.
"I preferred some of the others you posted online."
Her feelings couldn't settle on anything concrete.
Which ones did he like
? She wasn't bothered at all by the implication of what he'd just said. The most important thing in the world was to figure out what Doctor Stewart would
like
.
She looked through the photo reel again. She thought she looked great in the photo she'd just sent, but looking more closely now, she realised that she wasn't really showing off much of her body, just her face. She skimmed through to find something that might be a little more suitable. She found one of her beach pictures from last weekend that she remembered getting quite a few comments on. She froze at the last second --
should I try something that shows off my cleavage, or something that shows off more of my legs?
She thought about it for a moment.
Why not both?
She noted that in the current image she was barefoot on the sand, and for some reason she felt like that was really adding to the composition.
She selected two images, one side profile taken with a timer and the other a high angle selfie. They were both bikini shots. In the first her toes were curled up at the bottom of the frame. There was no hesitation this time, not when she was so close to finding what he
liked
. She fired them off.
Pop
