I groan as my eyes open and the sunlight streams through the large window behind my bed. Over to my left I see Martina still fast asleep, the covers pulled up past her chin. Being Natalie's roommate only lasted a few solid hours because by nightfall yesterday, she decided to bring something up.
"Whitney, I have something to say," she begins, sitting cross-legged on her bed. I look up from my phone, my message to Mina still open.
"Go ahead," I respond, fluffing up my pillow.
"It's not your fault...it's just I kind of want to switch rooms," she says, nervously playing with her hair. She seems worried that she's offending me.
"Sure, I guess. Who are you going with?"
"Cynthia." Natalie replies, shuffling through her duffel bag. "I just feel like we understand each other. Not that we don't, but Iâ"
"Honestly it's fine, Natalie," I reply, waving it off. "But who is Cynthia's roommate?"
"That girl named Martina. She and Cynthia don't exactly get along."
I see why. Martina is outgoing and candid, while Cynthia seems more reserved. I do like Martina, so this roommate switcharoo isn't posing a problem for me.
"Hey, that works for me," I answer. Natalie smiles widely.
I sit up in bed and pick up my phone. It's 6:18 a.m.? The earliest I have ever gotten up without the blare of my alarm is around eight. Since I'm awake, and there is no way I can sleep with all the sunlight, I get up and head to the bathroom to get ready. I take my clothes and small bag full of everything I need and quietly walk down the hall. Since everyone else is still asleep, the bathroom is all mine. I lock the door behind me and then proceed to look in the mirror. I wash my face and then put my hair up into a neat ponytail before changing into a pair of gray leggings and a black sweatshirt.
Ten minutes later, I sneak out of the dorms. I know it's probably not allowed, but I'm not in the mood for rules this morning.
I walk across the grass in the morning shadows where no one can see me and slip through one of the entrances to the central building. But before I walk in, I catch a girl off in the corner, her back turned towards me. She senses movement and turns to stare straight at me. I'm caught off guard by what she's holding. A bottle of beer?
"What are you doing here?" she snaps, hiding the bottle behind her back.
"N-nothing, I woke up early and decided to get some morning sunshine."
She purses her lips and crosses her arms. "Are you trying to leave?"
My eyes widen. "Why would I do that?"
She scoffs. "Because I tried to last year. They made me come back this summer because of that," she answers. I take note of her appearance: tangled, wild red hair, a stomach that almost hangs out of her sweatpants. "There's no escaping here, Whitney. It's like fitness jail."
"First of all, why are you telling me this? No one forced me to come here."
She's a few inches away from my chest at this point and her breath reeks of beer. I wrinkle my nose in disgust but keep quiet. "Because I know your type, smart but likes to get away with things. And surprisingly quite lazy."
Is this girl a mind reader? "And what is that supposed to mean?"
"Don't try and leave. Unless you want to spend another summer in hell."
I place my hands on my hips and stare straight at her. "Why is this hell? I've been to hell before: high school."
She laughs. "High school is the biggest joke in the world. But it's just endless here. Every day the same stupid workouts, same disgusting food, and some of the biggest bitches you'll ever find. Maybe it will be different for you, but if it isn't, don't be surprised. I'm just warning you."
I don't want to believe her, but a part of me wonders...what if she isn't lying?
This increases my paranoia as I continue across the grass, making a beeline for the back entrance of the Central Building. The air is crisp and cool inside, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I sneak down the hallway and see the large gym full of a plethora of exercise equipment: treadmills, ellipticals, stair climbers, stationary bicycles and other machines I can't even name. Next to it I find a weights room and beside that a yoga studio. I thought I'd find something more exciting, but my hopes were crushed.
As I keep walking down the hall, I notice a detour to the right and hear a sound, like someone punching something over and over again. Curious, I walk farther down and peek through the half-open door.
It's Axel beating the life out of a punching, using blows that could knock someone out cold in an instant. His shirt is soaked in sweat and a heavy beat blares in the background, almost fueling the anger in every punch. Then he stops, muttering something incoherent, and his head whips back, his chest heaving up and down. I feel my heart beat twice as fast, and I dash away to the exit. No way will I let him see me stalking him in his early morning workout.
Not that I was planning to in the first place.
"There you are!" Martina exclaims as I walk into the room. She has already made her bed and gotten dressed, now fiddling with her sleep hair in the mirror. "Where were you?"
"Just went for an early morning stroll, that's all," I answer. Who uses the word stroll, Whitney?
"Oh, well breakfast is being served in a few minutes. Then it's off to fitness torture."
"Torture?" I question, raising a brow. "I thought Austin went easy on you."
She clucks her tongue. "Apparently not in the second workout. My calves are still burning."
Welcome to my world. I roll out my sore shoulders from yesterday's rope session and hear them crack. I wince.
After breakfast, it takes me a few minutes to find Axel, who is resting underneath a tree. I never understand why he feels the need to conceal himself like a mystical fairy. I'm going to find him anyway.
"About time," he grumbles when I finally find him. I give him a glare.
"What are we doing today?" I ask, my hands set on my hips. He stares at me for a moment, making me want to slink away.
"Walk with me," he orders, setting out.
"So we're walking today? That's a surprise."
"Don't get too ahead of yourself." I stay quiet as we approach an area full of bright green grass. I look upwards and notice a hill, but not just an ordinary hill. These are the kind of hills I need a hovercraft for so I can float over it instead of expending the energy to haul myself up it.
"Let me guess," I say nervously. "I'm going to have to climb that."
"You're a smart girl," he says wryly. "It might come in handy."
"I'm flattered," I answer, clasping my chest.
"Alright then, use your smartness and get to the top of the hill," he says, folding his arms across his chest. "Under ten minutes, you get an extra five minute break."
I swallow at its altitude. The most I climb is my stairs at home...to go lie down in bed.
At the base of the hill, I take a large step, straining at its steepness. I take a breath and keep going, trying not to embarrass myself in front of him. He is supercilious enough.
I begin huffing and puffing halfway up but force myself to keep going, my calves feeling the strain. Axel watches from the bottom, a pair of sunglasses blocking his facial expression and shielding him from the blinding sun directly in my face. I grunt as I take the next step.
"You could have at least come up with me," I mutter. "Aren't you supposed to give some moral support?!"
"That makes it too easy!" he calls, and I hold my hands up with a scoff. Oh, how dare it be easy, what a shame that would be.
"Seven minutes and fifty seconds now!" Axel calls from below.
I exhale loudly and decide to pick up the pace and run. My legs are giving out, but I refuse to stop until I collapse at the top. I lie on my back staring at the lucid sky, my chest heaving up and down. I wipe a trail of sweat from my forehead, and when I look up two Axels float in front of me with four sunglass shades. I close my eyes tightly then open them, seeing one of him now.
How did he get up here so quickly? I pull myself up and peer over the other side, crouching down and taking it all in. I shake my head with a sigh.
"Are you alright, Whitney?" he asks, his tone more detached than concerned.
"I was checking to see if there was a secret staircase back there," I answer with a straight face. "I mean, how was that possible? You got up here in likeâthree seconds?"
"It's called endurance," he responds and then adds, "Your performance was okay." He begins to walk down the hill, and I follow behind him, slightly disappointed.
He didn't even comment on me reaching the top in under ten minutes. All I got was an "okay." I mock his voice in my head and find myself almost laughing out loud.
"Whitney," he says firmly once we get to the bottom, catching my attention.
"What?"
"Whitney, so much of working out is mindset," he states, tapping the side of his head for reference. "The way you think can make you feel like you're weak, when in reality, you have the capability to do exceptional things. I just can't do the thinking for you."
"You ever consider becoming a psychologist or something?" I ask, raising a brow.
"No, I haven't," he replies, stone-faced, though it appears difficult for him to conceal a chuckle after a few seconds. Surprisingly going along with my joke, he adds, "But I might consider it for a last-minute career change."
***
At night after dinner, Cheryl calls us to the yoga room to do a "fun" group activity. Whenever a person of authority says that word, it's bound to be the exact opposite.
"This should be enthralling," Martina jokes, sitting on a yoga mat and adjusting her skull-patterned leggings.
"Alright girls, before we begin, let's all take deep breaths," she says, sitting at the front on a pink yoga mat. "In and out, in and out."
I try to relax and close my eyes but can't when Willow is only two feet away from me with Adriana. I feel her eyes on me even when mine are closed.
"And one, and we're done," Cheryl says. "As part of our icebreaker activity you will tell us about yourself: your name, age and why you decided to come here. We'll start with you." She points to the model-like brunette sitting a few feet away from her.
"Okay, um, I'm Joanna, I'm nineteen and I wanted to come here to become stronger than my boyfriend. I hope it works."
Cheryl laughs a bit and points to the next girl. "I'm Aspen, I'm seventeen, and I wanted to come here to get a six pack."
Miscellaneous answers ensue, mostly involving losing weight or improving skills in sports. Cheryl finally stops on Willow who seems more interested in the floor than this activity.
"Oh," she says, looking up. "I'm Willow, I'm seventeen, and I came here because... Because I wanted to."
Some girls giggle at her lame statement, but Willow doesn't find it funny. Neither do I.
"Alright, and lastly...you!" Cheryl says, pointing to me.
Willow is staring straight at my face, her expression anxious and her eyes wide. I swallow hard, wondering if I'm reading too much into her face.
"Are you here just to waste space? Stop acting like everyone here cares about you because trust me, nobody does."
"I wonder where you go whenever your little feelings are hurt. Your boyfriend? Oh right, forgot no one's ever going to be interested in dating you."
"Maybe if Whitney stopped eating everything offered in the cafeteria she could actually run. Have fun making last place in gym class today! We're rooting for you, Whit!"
I blurt out an answer. "I'm Whitney, I'm eighteen, and I came here because...I need to get better at exercising."
If there was a Lamest Response Awards, that would have won the biggest honor of the night.