My calves are burning as I recline on the bench outside the dorms after dinner with Martina.
"So," Martina begins, clasping her hands together. "What does your trainer look like?" Her eyes widen in anticipation.
"He's tall, has dark hair, and an unreadable personality. May I mention he's not the most compassionate person?"
"Oh." Martina seems taken aback by my response. "He still sounds hot though."
"Uh huh," I mumble. "Now how about you?" But before she answers, I jump up and let out a shrill scream, swatting my hands in front of my face like a maniac.
"Whoa, whoa, calm down!" she exclaims, jumping to her feet and standing in front of me. "What are you doing?"
I turn to her, several strands of hair now stuck in front of my face. "There was a fly. I was protecting myself."
"Actually, it was a ladybug," she mumbles. "You okay now?"
"Just perfect," I answer and sit a foot away from my original seat and cross my legs. "Now carry on."
"If you say so. Anyway, my guy's name is Austin, he's not super tall but has the most amazing bluish-green eyes. And guess what? He only taught me how to do a proper push-up. The rest of the time we talked."
I think my brain threw up a little. "That's it?"
"Not even kidding. How about you?"
"I have died and come back to life about six times in the past day."
A random moment of silence floats between us, and all we hear is the slight breeze and the faint chatter of other girls around us. In the left corner are three girls sitting under a large oak tree squealing over something on an iPad in front of them. Natalie and the petite girl from the race are across from them, joined by another girl I hadn't noticed before. And diagonal from us, a fair distance away, are Willow, Adriana and the model-like brunette.
"Wait a minute," I say, abruptly breaking the silence. Martina looks straight at me. "Do you happen to know that tall, skinny blonde over there?"
"Who?" Martina asks but shifts her head to the side. Her eyes scan the girls and seem to stop. "Wait, you mean Willow?"
So she knows her name? "Yes."
"Of course, I know her," she replies with a groan. "Adriana and her have been friends for years. They've attended the same competitive dance school since they were seven."
"Do you know anything else about her?"
She looks puzzled as to why I am asking. "Well, she's sort of nice, I guess, but she seems to have some problems of her own. She and Adriana spend hours talking and it always results in a tissue and runny mascara session. And she's insanely rich. She invites Adriana and me to fancy brunches on some weekends with a few other girls. I always try to get out of them, to be honest."
"Did you happen to meet a girl named Mina?" I ask, knowing how many times she was forced to attend those brunches set up by Willow's mother.
"Wait, yes!" Martina exclaims. "She's always been really nice to me. Do you know her?"
I nod. "We're best friends."
Her smile widens. "That's so cool. But then that means you must know Willow, right?"
Tragically.
Before Martina can answer, Adriana walks over to us, tossing her long hair over her shoulder.
"We have to go back to Room 100," she says, her expression sour. "I'm getting sick of that place."
"Oh get over yourself," Martina grumbles and grabs my hand, dragging me off the seat. Even in a fitness camp, I find a way to be lazy.
Once we shuffle in Room 100, we see Bob and Cindy in the center of the room, standing in front of a large screen mounted on the wall. "Good afternoon, girls," Cindy greets with her signature bright smile. I notice the diamond on her left ring finger and nudge Martina.
"Hey, do you think Cindy is Bob's wife?" I whisper.
"Well, her last name is Campbell."
"Wait, how do you know that?"
"I read the description on the website a little deeper than you did, maybe?"
I nod. "Oh."
Bob claps his hands together to get our attention, the noise resonating through the room like thunder. "Everyone shut up and look at the screen." All of us quiet down and avert our attention to the projection. "There are sixteen of you, four groups, hence there are four people per group. Now, find your respective teams."
On the screen appear four boxes, named team A, team B, team C and team D. I find my name underneath group D and start to read the names.
Martina
Aspen
Whitney
Willow
I glance to the side and see Willow's gray eyes lock with mine. I avert my gaze, not wanting to encourage conversation with her.
"Okay, girls," Cindy says. "Now that you know your groups for later, are there any questions? If not, go outside and find your trainers!"
Since there are no questions, we disperse. Martina waves a sympathetic goodbye, and I return her a semi-hopeful smile.
Outside, I find Axel off in the distance, a few feet from the side of the road. I tuck my loose strands of hair behind my ears as I walk towards him and try to appear enthusiastic. "Hi," I say. In response, he presses his lips into a firm line.
"Let's go, we have work to do." Without a simple hello, he starts jogging. I run as fast as my sneakers can take me, and I barely pass him.
"I know you can do better than that!" he calls as he rounds a corner.
"Look," I begin, slowing down my pace. "If you expect me to be as good as you are, then there is no point in me spending five weeks of my summer at a fitness camp in the middle of nowhere."
He stops running and turns to face me, a slight smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "Okay, fine, I don't think you are as good as me. Quite frankly, I think you suck."
There goes the negativity again. "Thanks, much appreciated," I remark and bolt in front of him.
"Ah, so you can run," he says, his shoulder nearly brushing mine within seconds.
"Good observation." I give him a wry smile and then notice we are surrounded by more trees than before. I pray we're not going hiking.
"Stop," he orders, and I do, trying to catch my breath. "Now follow me."
Damn, this guy sure loves to order people around.
We step onto the long grass and I feel it prick at my ankles; I cringe. I have to remind myself it's just nature. "What are we doing here?" I ask, catching up to him. He turns his head to the side, and I get a better view of his eyes. They're warmer than his personality, that's for sure.
"Keep following me and you'll see. You're in for a surprise."
We continue to trek across the grass, and after a few minutes, I see something. It's a long rope tied to a thick branch on the tree in front of us. My stomach churns.
"I don't have to climb that...right?" I ask shakily, although I know the answer.
Axel walks towards me, standing a few inches away from my chest. "You said you don't think you're good as I am. I say I teach you how. Are you up to the challenge or not?"
"Depends on if you'll catch me. Not in the mood of dying."
"Catch you," he muses. "Of course. I won't let you die on my watch. Bob would fire me."
Asshole.
He demonstrates for me first. I crane my neck upwards, ready to see his technique. He grabs the rope, the muscles in his back visibly tightening. He jumps up and climbs, one hand first, then the other, and hooks the rope around his foot. He pulls his knees up and his upper body effortlessly glides upwards. When he reaches the top, he glances down at me before lowering himself down. He stands in front of me, his height and athleticism towering over my small and inept figure.
"Alright. Go ahead and teach me how this works." I step towards the rope and put both hands on it. He steps behind me, the warmth of his hands covering mine. I shift slightly at the close contact.
"You need to bring them higher, so you can support the rest of your body," he says, shifting my hands upwards. "Now tighten your shoulders and jump."
"Jump?" I ask.
"Yes, jump. What did I not make clear?"
"Nothing," I mumble and do as he says. I tighten my legs around the rope and shift myself higher, going about a half an inch. He shows me how to wrap the rope around my foot for stability the way he did.
"Now pull your knees up," he says, staying around the bottom of the rope in case I fall.
I try to shift myself up with all my strength, but it proves harder than it looks.
"I-I can't do it."
"At least give it your best, okay? Don't put it in your mind that this is difficult, even if it seems like it."
I close my eyes for a brief moment and try to convince myself this isn't as hard as it seems. Once I open my eyes, I find myself moving up higher, and Axel is now feet below me.
"Keep going, Whitney."
I let out a deep breath and climb a little more, but my arms are proving too weak. My knuckles turn white from clasping the rope so tightly. I shake my head to him and shakily make my way down again. I give him a small smile but truthfully am disappointed in myself for not going higher.
"I'm sorry. I failed right there," I mutter.
"You didn't fail, you tried," he says and stretches his arms in front of him. "Let's just go through the steps again."
After fifteen minutes of him explaining how to climb correctly and offering me tips on how to not injure myself, I place both of my hands onto the rope again.
This time, I find myself moving faster, although nowhere near his pace from the demonstration.
"Come on!" he calls, giving me a few claps of encouragement. I let out a deep breath and continue.
I am about six feet from the top when my arms weaken. I try to push upwards and use my legs and feet, but my energy is draining rapidly. I lift my left hand and begin to slip. My heart pounds in my chest, and I feel myself go lightheaded.
"Alternate your hands and walk yourself down slowly if you can't continue!" Axel calls from below, pacing around the bottom of the rope.
"I can't!" I shout, not getting a proper grip from my legs.
"Then let go!"
"What?!" I exclaim. God, I did not sign up for this camp to die a death like this.
"Do it!"
I don't know if I should listen to him, but after all, it's either that or stay up there forever. I bite the inside of my cheeks and let go of my arms, feeling myself shoot downwards. I prepare myself to die, but end up landing right into his muscular arms.
"Told you I wouldn't let you die," he says into my ear and lets me go onto the ground in one piece.