Connor & Oliver Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

It had been a month since Connor had started his routine of eating like a machine and hitting the gym harder than ever before, but despite his relentless effort, the results weren’t coming as quickly as he had hoped.

He sat at their small dorm room desk, staring down at the plate in front of him—chicken, rice, avocado, and a side of sweet potatoes. He’d been eating this exact same meal, or something similar, four times a day. He shoveled another bite into his mouth, chewing mechanically, feeling the fatigue of another long practice weigh on his body.

“Man, I don’t get it,” Connor muttered to himself, glancing at his phone for a moment. His coach had sent a follow-up text earlier that day—“Need more size, Connor. You’re barely pushing 170.”

Connor exhaled sharply, pushing the plate aside. He was already exhausted from two practices, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, and between that, trying to hit the gym, and his classes, he felt like he was burning out. It wasn’t just the weight gain—it was the constant exhaustion, the pressure to perform in both football and academics, and the fact that his body wasn’t responding the way he’d hoped.

He heard Oliver’s voice from across the room. “Are you okay?”

Connor turned around to see his roommate sitting at the desk, a chemistry textbook open in front of him, scribbling notes. Oliver had settled into his routine easily. He had a method to everything—his studies, his meals, his sleep. He seemed to have found a good balance, and it showed. Oliver was doing well in class and had started to make some friends, even joining a study group. It wasn’t that Connor was jealous; he admired Oliver’s ability to juggle everything without breaking a sweat.

“Yeah,” Connor said with a sigh, standing up and pacing around the room. “I just don’t get it. I’m eating like a freak, and I’m lifting harder than I’ve ever lifted, but I’m still not putting on any weight. It’s like my body’s just... stuck.”

Oliver looked up from his textbook. “Maybe you’re overtraining. You know, stressing your body out too much between practices and workouts. It could be that your muscles aren’t getting the recovery they need.”

Connor stopped mid-stride, considering this. “Maybe
 but it’s like if I don’t push myself, I won’t get bigger. Coach won’t let me stay on the team if I don’t put on muscle. He’s already frustrated with me.”

“Have you thought about taking a step back?” Oliver asked, his voice calm but genuine. “Maybe focus on recovery for a bit. You can’t just keep pushing harder without giving your body a chance to adapt.”

Connor’s brow furrowed, but before he could respond, his phone buzzed again—another message from his coach: "More size or less time on the field. You’ve got this. Don’t waste the opportunity."

Connor groaned, staring at the message. “It’s like I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. I can’t afford to fall behind in football, but school’s getting harder too. I barely have time for anything other than eating, lifting, and practicing.”

Oliver patted Connor on the back as he walked by on his way out the door, Connor realizing it was probably the first time they’d touched outside a handshake or something when they first met.

Oliver smiled slightly, a bit sheepish. “You’ll figure it out. You got this far.”