I am not strong. At all. I wish I were, but I definitely am not. I am trying to get buff, but I am scared. The weight room is, unquestionably, the most intimidating place in school.

Problems arise before I even start lifting. I know it sounds girly, but I never know what to wear. Everyone else wears tight, sleeveless shirts to show off their muscles. But what do the people without muscles wear? I decide to wear sleeves, but I feel very awkward.

Then, there is the music. The only music played is rap, which would normally be okay because I enjoy listening to rap. The problem is when I, the only white boy in the room, start singing along to 50 Cent and Kanye West, I get enough stares to wonder how Eminem pulled it off.

And why are girls in the weight room? To make you feel bad? Being shown up by the captain of the football team is one thing, but the captain of the cheerleading squad? That is just demoralizing. This is why I am always sure to move over to the opposite side of the room whenever a girl comes near me.

Once I find a ladyless part of the room, I can get started. I am curling 20 pound dumbbells and I am proud of myself because I usually only curl 15. Then I see the guy next to me is curling 120 (my body weight) and bobbing his head to the music. Goodbye, self-esteem!

At the end of my last set, my entire body starts violently shaking. There is a vein popping out of my red forehead and I look like I am suffering from intense constipation. I let out a loud groan, which seemed to be okay when everyone else was doing it. Laughter tells me that my groan was more of a squeak.

Maybe one day I will be allowed to groan. And maybe I will be the one in the sleeveless shirt who is strong enough to dance while he lifts. Until then, I will be the loner, trembling in the corner, afraid to make a noise.