"Alright girls, happy Monday!" Cheryl calls, standing between the squeaky blonde from the yoga sessions and another female trainer. "It's the fourth week of your training, and at this point if you want to boost your rank, you need to work harder than ever."
"Today, we're doing something different," the blonde says. "The top six, according to the ranks you will see in a moment, will be a part of Cheryl's group and will compete head-to-head. The other nine of you will come with me."
Anxiety grips me as Cheryl turns on her iPad.
"Here they are," Cheryl proclaims, and everyone stops talking, eager to hear what she is going to say. "The ranks go in order; number one, Joanna, two, Cynthia, three, Whitney, four, Willow, five Martina, and six, Alina."
I bite the edge of my lip; I haven't moved up or down one rank, but now I'm one spot above Willow.
She glances at me and our eyes lock. I know I should feel happy that I was mature enough to forgive her, but I don't. I feel stupid and weak, like I always have around her.
"What is the point of the ranks anyway? This feels like discrimination." Adriana asks in an irritating tone, making me want to throw her into the prickly bushes behind her. After the smoothie incident yesterday, I'm surprised I haven't done that already.
"We've explained over the past few weeks that the ranks are to motivate you to keep improving your skills," Cheryl explains, trying hard to keep a smile on her face as she talks to Adriana. Even she doesn't like her. "But the girl who is able to secure the number one spot in two weeks will win the camp prize."
Before Adriana can keep bitching, the blonde whisks the other nine girls away, leaving us with Cheryl.
She turns to us with her bright, expressive eyes. "You will do a series of challenges in pairs, in this case Joanna and Cynthia, Whitney and Willow, and Martina and Alina. The winner in each one of the pairs will then rank separately. So, for example, if Joanna, Willow and Martina win, they become one, two and three, subsequently. Then Cynthia, Whitney and Alina will be fourth, fifth and sixth."
If I win today, I'll be in second place. That means it may not be mission impossible to reach number one in two weeks.
"What will it be?" Joanna asks eagerly, her fingers playing with the ends of her straight light brown hair. Cynthia's head perks up, as if finally interested.
"That's for you to find out," Cheryl answers and then adds, "If you win."
"Maybe if you're number one Axel might have a surprise for you," Martina says, nudging me again with a wink.
"Martina!" I yell in a hushed tone. "That is not happening. Well I mean what you're thinking, at least."
She shrugs. "Just a thought, you know. Didn't hurt."
"Alright, you are going to start with a 100-meter dash. Then you will navigate through a series of obstacles and afterwards pick up some weights and run to the end of the course. Whoever makes it out first will win."
Up ahead is a cleared-out area surrounded by an abundance of trees and woods. The only way to get to the other side is to run through them. Fortunately, Willow and I are not the first to go; Joanna and Cynthia are at the start, preparing to run. Cheryl talks to them for a couple seconds and before anyone blink twice, they're gone.
Willow walks closer to me, and I try not to look her in the eye.
"Are you nervous?" she asks, toying with the end of her ponytail.
I shrug. "Not really." That is a partial lie; I'm slightly worried about where the end of this course is, hidden somewhere beyond the trees.
"There are a couple of trainers waiting at the end for you, so you'll know what to do," Cheryl tells the four of us, as if reading my thoughts. I breathe a sigh of relief and prepare to run.
After what seems like ages, Willow and I can begin. We sprint swiftly, taking large strides side by side. The dirt on the ground flies as I run, hitting my ankles before falling to the ground. I focus on what's ahead of me, trying to forget about Willow next to me.
Don't be a weak bitch. This becomes a repeating mantra in my head as the obstacles come into view. I take a few seconds to catch my breath, hearing Willow approaching closer.
The first set of obstacles is a series of bars, some low and others higher. My automatic instinct is to crawl under all of them, but I realize there are patches of thick mud underneath the higher ones.
I lean my head back and slide under the first low bar and then the next, which is even lower. I try to take another step but find a long patch of mud. It's too long to jump over, but at the same time, I won't risk stepping into it. I muster up enough strength to jump up and grab the bar.
I swing back and forth multiple times before letting go, my feet landing safely on solid ground. I look down and see my shoes are still spotless.
I hear Willow groaning as she struggles to maneuver through the bars, but I focus on the next task. Cheryl said to pick up weights, but I don't see any around me, until I realize these two bricks are the weights. Who the hell makes up these challenges?
I bend down and pick it up with two hands, the mass weighing down my arms. I jog with it in my hands, trying my best to not drop it.
After a solid minute of jogging, I stumble upon a large log on the ground. I stand on it and waver slightly, trying to keep the brick in my hands. On the count of three, I dash across it, falling off the edge into a pile of leaves.
The end of the woods is in sight, and I make a run for it, eager to get rid of the heavy brick in my hands. A fly buzzes by my head, and I squeal, but it luckily hurries away. At last, I make it to the finish line, dropping the brick with a thud and bending down to catch my breath, sweat dripping down my neck.
"You won," someone says, placing a hand on my back. I look up and my eyebrows raise in surprise.
"Axel?" I ask, adjusting the top of my shirt. I didn't expect him to be one of the trainers waiting for me.
He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his shorts. "Let's talk."
"Should we go somewhere?" I ask, knowing that Willow would be done with the challenge in a few moments. Axel nods and leads me away by my arm. I pick up my pace, and we walk to the area at the base of the large hill.
"This may or may not come as a surprise to you, but you're good at this."
"Wait, what?" I ask, not on the same page.
"You shouldn't underestimate yourself," he answers firmly. "I need you to stop caring about competing with everyone else at this point, for a real reason."
"I'm not trying to compâ" I begin, but he cuts me off.
"Yes you are, so listen to me. There're only two whole weeks until you find out the official rankings. If you want to be win, it's all about you now. Forget trying to prove yourself to anyone."
I nod, not expecting a serious pep talk. "What's the deal with the number one spot anyway? Is there really some interesting prize for it?"
"I can't tell you because I'd be breaking the rules," he says. "But I would say it's something that both you and I would like."
I raise my eyebrows and block out the thoughts that immediately come rushing to my mind. Axel clears his throat.
"Fuck, I definitely phrased that wrong," he says, and we both break out in laughter. "All you should know is you're on the right track and don't turn back from here."
I nod, twirling a lock of hair around my finger. "Thank you, Axel. Should I get back there? Isn't someone going to notice I'm gone?"
He shakes his head. "The other team leaders were supposed to lead everyone back to the dorms anyway for a break," he replies. "If you want to leave, you can, by all means."
I bite the inside of my cheek, not wanting to go back and be surrounded by a multitude of chattering girls. "I'd prefer not..."
"Then come with me."
I'm not sure where we are going, but knowing Axel, it won't be a disappointment. My hand falls to my side as we walk, and I look down, realizing his is reaching for mine. Without hesitation, we lock them together. He leads me to one of the back entrances of the Central Building, and we walk to a flight of stairs.
"There's a second floor?" I ask him as we take a few steps.
"It's a bit of a secret," he replies. "But I'll show you."
The staircase is long, but we eventually make it to the top. The floor is a polished light gray and the walls are black, adding to the modern appeal. We walk to the end of the hall, and he unlocks the door with a card. He looks inside before motioning for me to follow.
"You're lucky, there's no one else in here," he tells me, locking the door as I survey the whole room. There are two white couches and a fluffy white rug with a glass table on it. In front is a flat screen TV mounted on the wall, at least forty inches wide. In the back there is a granite countertop with a microwave, coffee maker and a mini fridge underneath. Multiple windows are on the walls, letting in the small amount of sunshine from outside.
"What is this room?" I ask, not wanting to sit on the pristine couch.
"It's a lounge room for the trainers who work here," he replies. "Normally it's filled, but it's lunch time, so most of them go out to eat."
I nod, undoing my ponytail as I look into the mirror on the wall. "If only we had one of these places." He laughs, coming over and handing me a cup of coffee.
"Black, like your soul."
A large smile spreads across my lips as I take it and have a sip. "Thanks," I answer, putting the cup down on the table. "Is anyone besides the people who work here allowed to go in this room?"
"No." His answer is so blatant I almost laugh. But I don't.
"But you brought me here anyway."
He nods. "Let's say I care about rules a little less when I'm around you."
I look up at him, my elbows hitting the wall and my hands awkwardly folding. "Is that a compliment?"
"It's whatever you want it to be, Whitney," he answers, subtly winking. "I've been working a little hard lately."
"On what?" I ask. Once again, the distance between my back and the wall behind me lessens as he comes closer. I'm guessing his "working a little hard" doesn't have anything to do with his job...
"Being less of an ass to you," he replies, placing a hand on the wall by my head. "It's not as hard as I thought it'd be."
"Aw, is your cold, black heart really warming for me?" I ask, touching his chest with my hand. I can feel the light thump of his heart against my fingertips, but the pace seems to quicken with each passing second. "I couldn't be more flattered."
He looks into my eyes, and I think he's going to lean in, do something, but we stand there staring in utter silence. The way he looks at me is different from anyone else, and I don't mean it romantically. It's almost like I cause a raging conflict in his head, and he thinks that if he stares long enough, it'll be resolved.
Today he gives up a little quicker, walking away. I drop my head against the wall in defeat.