Extra Credit

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 26

Calista
The boxing facility was empty. Lincoln and I were the last two people in the building. I’m sure most students had something better to do on a Thursday night. The motion-sensor lights around the building had clicked off a while ago. The only light left was the one directly above us. It acted like a spotlight, shining down on Lincoln who was working the bag beside the ring.

Perched on the platform, I watched as Lincoln’s back muscles rippled with each strike. His physique was impressive, but I know it didn’t come without hard work and dedication. He had made it abundantly clear that boxing meant a lot to him. Seeing him work solidified that.

“Okay,” I said, breaking away from my intrusive thoughts. “I think we’re done.”

Lincoln’s chest was heaving as he removed his gloves. He grabbed his water bottle off the side of the boxing ring and my eyes zoned in his throat as he drank.

“Are we calling it quits?” He managed to get out through haggard breaths.

Closing up my notes, I placed the books in a neat pile by my bag. “Actually… I wanted to try one more thing.”

Lincoln had moved on to wiping the sweat off his body with a small towel he had hung off of the ropes. He passed the white cloth over his damp hair. “Something new?”

Nodding, I pulled another notebook from my bag. “Something that helped me out quite a bit when studying for my anatomy courses was drawing out the areas I was trying to study.” I opened the book, flipping through the pages before landing on a page. “For example, sketching out the bone structure found within a hand.”

Lincoln squatted in front of me after slipping on a black t-shirt. His dark eyes roamed over the old sketches.

“I can’t draw for shit,” Lincoln admitted once he peered up from the open pages.

I averted my eyes, affected by how close he was. “I’m not going to ask you to draw per say.” My tongue darted across my lower lip. “I was thinking we could use a live model.”

“A live model?”

“Yeah, this way you can outline all the different muscles and visualize how they move.”

Lincoln’s brow furrowed, confused by the concept. “And where are we going to get this live model from?”

“We have two right here.” I hauled a couple washable markers from my bag. “You can draw on yourself, but that might make it a little tricky, so it probably makes more sense if you draw on me.”

Lincoln took the marker that I held out to him. “You want me to draw on you?”

“Have I ever strayed you wrong with my methods?” I sent him a small smile.

“Not yet,” Lincoln murmured.

With a reassuring smile I rose to my full height, hands bracing the waistband of my joggers.

“What are you doing?” The tips of Lincoln’s ears began to turn red.

“I have shorts on underneath,” I said with a laugh. “Relax.”

Lincoln’s gaze was trained on me as I slid my joggers down my legs, revealing a pair of biker shorts.

“Alright,” I said as I sank to the floor and grabbed his textbook. “Let’s begin.”

I launched into a briefing, instructing him to outline the muscle groups of my leg as detailed in the textbook. Then we would work on the labelling. Lincoln hesitated, the open marker stationary in his hand. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gripped my ankle with a gentle hand. The warmth from his fingers caused a shiver to wrack through me.