Boot Camp

27

I cut myself off from almost everyone at the camp for the next few days, including Martina. She tried to confront her sister upon finding out about Adriana's elaborate scheme against me, but I told her not to bother and just give me my space.

I wasn't going to get between two sisters or be more responsible for even more drama at this wild camp. After all, my eyes are set on one goal, going home, as only two days stand between me and the suburban peace and quiet I now crave.

"Hey." Martina walks up to me in the middle of Room 100, where all fifteen of us have been waiting for the last five minutes. "We haven't talked in a bit..."

"I'm sorry," I breathe, noticing her crestfallen face. I reach forward and give her a small hug. Letting go, I explain, "I didn't want to blow up in your face on accident."

"Don't worry about it," she says and smiles. "We should be more worried about what he's gonna tell us." She extends her thumb towards Bob, who has begun making his grand entrance.

He's developed more of a tan since we last saw him but still bears that same stony expression, steel-blue eyes narrowed and judging us all. Without him having to say a word, we straighten up and smooth out the jagged line we've formed.

"Congratulations, first of all," Bob begins, tone anything but congratulatory. "You definitely aren't the uncoordinated sloths you were nearly five weeks ago." Multiple girls hold back a snort with their fists, and I swear the man himself cracks a smile. "As we enter the last few days of this experience, Cindy and I believe this is the perfect time for you to obtain a concrete idea of your progress." He clicks a button on the remote in his hand, and it turns on the large screen behind him. "Here is a list of activities you've tried and skills you've developed while being here. Longer than you thought, right?"

We take a moment to peruse the listings. Most are familiar, apart from "rock climbing" for activities and "accuracy" for skills. I'm positive that, despite all of the physical improvements I've made here, I still can't hit a ball to save my life.

"To make it easier to conceptualize your progress, our final team challenge is quite simple: a 5k race. Much of the training you have completed at this camp has prepared you for this very moment, and a few of you may be quite surprised at the results." His eyes move in the general vicinity of where I'm standing, but I have no idea if he means me. "With that being said, we'll go through a quick warm-up and then reconvene outside."

Ten minutes later, I've learned that Bob's definition of a "warm-up" is a workout in itself, and I start to lose some of my hopes about this 5k. After all, when Axel and I run, he doesn't usually fret over distances; most times, I end up dead and out of breath without him ever telling me how many miles I recorded.

"Okay, the race starts here," Bob booms once we're outside, pointing to the yellow marker on the ground. "You're going to run down this same road in a circle around this camp until you end up back where you started. If you can't figure out how to do that, I wonder how you're still valuable to society, but I digress."

As we take our places, I look off over Bob's head to see if has recruited any trainers to watch our progress. I find a couple scattered in the distance, Isla, Cassidy, another I don't recognize, but no Axel.

"Race starts in five, four, three, two, one—go!"

I blink, and five girls have sprinted ahead of me. I take a few seconds to figure out a comfortable speed, knowing there's no way they can run that fast without slowing down eventually. Joanna has already started to regret her pace and relaxes it, until we're level.

I know thinking about my competition will only backfire—if this is even a competition. Axel made it clear that one time at the gym that no prize was waiting at the end of this experience only to subtly hint at a job offer a few days later. Is this a test?