Chereads / From Heavy to Hero / Chapter 9 - Chapter Nine: DO THEY CARE?

Chapter 9 - Chapter Nine: DO THEY CARE?

As Max was about to step out of the locker room, he heard Coach Stevenson's voice calling after him.

"Hey, Max! Can I talk to you for a second?"

Max turned around, surprised. He hadn't expected the coach to stop him, especially after practice. Coach Stevenson was walking toward him with a curious look on his face, his arms crossed.

"Yeah, Coach?" Max said, his heart pounding a little faster. Was he in trouble?

Coach Stevenson stopped in front of him, giving him an appraising look. "You've been looking stronger out there, Max. I've been watching your progress, and it's like you've come out of nowhere. I mean, the way you blocked some of those guys today? Damn impressive. So, what's your secret?"

Max felt a knot form in his stomach. He hadn't expected anyone to notice so quickly. The system, the training, all of it—he wasn't ready to share that with anyone. Not yet, anyway.

"Uh, well…" Max started, fumbling for an answer. "I've just been working hard. Lifting more, practicing a lot."

Coach raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but not pushing too hard. "I'm not blind, kid. You've been pushing yourself in ways I don't see most beginners do. You're not just building muscle—you're getting smarter about how you move, how you play. I don't know what's driving you, but whatever it is, it's working. You've got potential."

Max didn't know what to say to that. His instinct was to downplay it, to just nod and move on, but there was something about Coach's praise that made him feel more confident, like his hard work was actually starting to pay off.

"Thanks, Coach," he said, giving him a small grin. "Just trying to do my best, you know?"

Coach gave him a firm pat on the back, his smile widening. "Well, keep it up. And if you ever need tips or anything, don't hesitate to ask. You've got a good head on your shoulders, Max. Just don't let the hard work stop here."

Max nodded. "I won't. I've got a lot more to prove."

With that, Coach Stevenson turned and walked back toward the field, his focus shifting to the rest of the team. Max stood there for a moment, his mind buzzing with what had just happened.

He hadn't been ready to tell anyone about the system, but hearing his coach's words filled him with a new kind of confidence. Maybe—just maybe—he was finally on the right path.

As the team moved into the weight room for the final hour of practice, Max felt a surge of energy. His muscles were sore from the football drills, but there was something inside him that kept pushing him forward. He knew he was about to get the chance to test his strength in a way he hadn't before, and the idea of pushing himself even further excited him.

The weight room was buzzing with the sounds of clanking metal and grunts of exertion as his teammates hit the racks. Max wasn't one to try to show off, but the system had already made him feel like he was capable of more than he'd ever imagined. And today, he was going to test those limits.

Max walked over to the deadlift station, where his dad's voice echoed in his head: "Focus on form, then the weight will follow." He set his feet in position, eyes on the barbell. It was loaded up with 200 pounds—an amount he'd never attempted before.

His hands wrapped around the bar, fingers tightening. He could feel the weight, but the challenge didn't intimidate him. The system's boost had already given him a newfound strength, and after everything he'd been through at practice, it felt like he could take on the world.

"Alright, Max. Let's see what you've got," he muttered to himself.

With a deep breath, he pushed his hips back, then exploded upward. The bar moved smoothly, and within seconds, the 200 pounds were off the ground and at his waist. It felt... easy.

He locked his knees and stood tall, keeping his back straight. The weight felt like nothing more than a slight challenge, the effort barely there. Max held it for a moment, savoring the feeling of power that surged through him.

200 pounds, no sweat.

He carefully lowered the bar back to the ground and released it with a satisfying thud. His chest was puffed out, his heart pounding in exhilaration. It wasn't just the weight—it was how effortlessly he had lifted it.

"Nice work, Max," one of the other players, Tyler, called over from the bench press. Tyler had been pushing his own limits today, but Max could tell he was impressed by the way the barbell had moved.

"Thanks," Max said with a grin, already feeling a sense of pride welling up in him.

He wasn't done yet, though. The adrenaline was still flowing, and Max wasn't about to back down from the challenge now. With his newfound confidence, he added another 20 pounds to the bar. This was the real test—could he lift 220 pounds without straining himself?

He approached the bar again, the system giving a quiet notification:

New weight limit detected: 220 lbs. Check your form and mental focus.

Max took another deep breath, steadying himself. His fingers wrapped around the bar again, and with a single motion, he repeated the process—hips back, then drive up with everything he had. The weight lifted just as easily as the 200-pound bar, his legs and back working together in perfect coordination.

220 pounds, done.

Max couldn't help but grin as he placed the bar back down. There was a strange mix of disbelief and satisfaction bubbling in his chest. His dad had always told him that strength wasn't just about lifting more weight—it was about confidence, technique, and consistency.

And for the first time, Max felt all of those things coming together. The system had given him the edge, but it was his effort, his heart, and his will to keep going that made the difference.

"Hey, Coach! You seeing this?" Max called out, his voice louder than usual as he wiped the sweat from his brow. He was feeling good—really good.

Coach Stevenson looked up from across the room, nodding with a raised brow. "Impressive, Max. Didn't expect you to be cranking out that kind of weight. You've definitely got some power there. Keep that up, and you're gonna be an asset on the field."

Max nodded, feeling the weight of the praise but still buzzing from the lift.

The practice ended shortly after, but Max's thoughts kept drifting back to the weight room. His strength was growing faster than he could have imagined, and he wasn't just gaining physical power—he was gaining confidence.

Maybe today, maybe tomorrow, he would start seeing the results in his body. But for now, Max felt like he had a good grip on what it took to get stronger—and it wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

Max walked out of the weight room, still riding the high from his last set. His muscles were sore, but the satisfaction of hitting his new weight was enough to keep his energy up. As he stepped into the main gym area, he caught sight of Emma across the room.

She was in her element, effortlessly spiking volleyballs over the net with a grace and power Max could only admire. Her movements were fluid, but there was undeniable strength behind each swing of her arm. Her focus was sharp, eyes locked on the ball as it sailed through the air.

Max paused for a moment, watching her in awe. There was something about the way she moved, like she was in complete control of her body, using every ounce of strength with precision. It reminded him of what he was trying to do—build strength, but also build confidence in his own body and abilities.

He didn't want to interrupt her while she was in the middle of practice, so he casually leaned against the wall, admiring from a distance. He checked his phone, glancing at his stats and seeing that the quest he'd completed earlier had brought a significant boost. But he couldn't stop thinking about Emma. There was something magnetic about her—not just her looks, but the way she carried herself. The way she made everything look so easy, even when it was clear she was pushing herself.

Eventually, Emma saw him standing there, and a bright smile spread across her face. She waved at him, her voice ringing out above the sound of the volleyballs.

"Hey, Max! How's it going?" she called out, her energy infectious.

Max straightened up from where he was leaning and gave her a half-smile. "Hey, Emma! Just finished up with some lifting. Watching you play is... impressive."

She laughed, wiping sweat from her forehead as she jogged over to him. "Thanks! But I bet you could get there too, if you really stuck with it."

Max chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "I don't know about that. I'm still trying to get the hang of, uh, lifting without dropping the weights on myself."

Emma grinned, clearly enjoying the conversation. "Well, you've definitely got the potential. I can see it. You're already strong—just gotta keep pushing yourself."

Max couldn't help but feel a little proud at her words. "Thanks. That means a lot coming from you."

They shared a brief, comfortable silence as Emma took a few steps back toward the volleyball net. She tossed a ball in the air and spiked it again, her form flawless as it soared across the court.

"By the way, what made you start lifting?" Emma asked, calling out to him while she was getting ready for another serve.

Max thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. "I've always been into the idea of getting stronger. It's just... something clicked recently. I've been wanting to change a lot of things about myself, you know? Football, the gym—just pushing myself to be better. And, uh, maybe make my dad proud."

Emma nodded, her expression thoughtful as she retrieved the ball. "I get that. But don't just do it for anyone else. Do it for you. You're the one who has to live with your decisions, right?"

Max looked at her, surprised by the sincerity in her words. "Yeah, you're right. I've been kinda focused on doing it for other people, but... I guess I should focus more on myself."

Emma flashed him a knowing smile. "Exactly. You've got to believe in yourself first. Everything else will fall into place."

Max felt a weight lift from his shoulders, as if a part of his mindset had just clicked into place. It wasn't just about lifting more weight or becoming stronger for his dad or anyone else—it was about doing it for himself. It was about building the person he wanted to be.

"Thanks, Emma," Max said, feeling a little more at ease.

"No problem. You've got this, Max. Just keep going."

As Max watched Emma spike another volleyball, he couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude. Not just for the words of encouragement, but for the fact that someone believed in him, even when he was still figuring things out. Emma's support felt like the final nudge he needed to push himself even further.