Little Lamb

39 ❦ ruin me

༺❦༻

The tension from yesterday still clung to me, suffocating in its own way. I hated how I'd been acting. Cold. Detached. A far cry from the girl I used to be. I wanted to change, to slip back into how things were, but it was too late.

Allister tugged me along. I had half a mind to dig my heels into the ground, but he was stronger than I was and too damn determined.

"This is ridiculous," I muttered, tightening my hoodie around me. "I should be at the waterfall right now, enjoying a nice, peaceful shower."

Instead, we stopped at the so called workout area on the edge of camp, though calling it that felt like a stretch. Weights and resistance bands were scattered haphazardly across the ground, and a metal pole leaned slightly to one side, looking as though it might collapse

I folded my arms, glaring daggers at Allister as he stretched like he was warming up for the Olympics. "Do I look like the kind of person who works out?"

He grinned, the kind of grin that immediately set me on edge. "Exactly why we're here. Everyone's gotta start somewhere."

Somewhere? Like hell. This was not on my to-do list today.

"I don't need to work out," I said, shoving my hands into my hoodie pocket for warmth. "I'm perfectly fine the way I am. Let's skip this and go straight to the waterfall, yeah? Please, Allister?"

He shook his head, pulling off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby stump. "After we're done here Lola. Not a moment before."

I groaned, gesturing toward the intimidating workout setup. "This isn't even a gym. It's a medieval torture chamber. Look at that pole. It's leaning. I'm going to die here."

"You'll live," he said, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt rode up just enough to reveal a slice of skin, and I cursed myself for noticing.

"So what's first?" I asked begrudgingly, already regretting every decision that led to this moment.

"Pull-ups," he said simply, pointing to the crooked pole.

"Pull-ups?" I repeated, deadpan. "You're kidding."

His smirk widened. "Nope. Show me what you've got."

I hesitated, searching for an excuse. "I was the best at pull-ups in school, you know. Did at least...fifteen. Maybe twenty."

"Impressive," he said, crossing his arms and leaning against a tree. "Let's see if you've still got it."

Why do I do this? Why do I open my mouth and dig myself into these holes? If I just admitted I was useless, he'd have let me off the hook. Now I have to humiliate myself in front of Mr. Fitness Guru with perfect arms.

I marched over to the pole, grabbing it with both hands. The metal was freezing and rough against my palms. As soon as I lifted my feet off the ground, I felt gravity assert its dominance.

The first pull-up wasn't terrible. I managed to haul myself up, gritting my teeth as my arms trembled under the strain. The second one was rougher. My breath came in sharp gasps, my muscles burning. By the third, my arms were on fire, my legs kicking uselessly as I struggled to get my chin above the bar.

I dropped back down, landing hard on my feet. My arms felt like wet noodles.

"Three," Allister said, slow clapping. The amusement in his voice made me want to hurl a dumbbell at his head. "Not bad. For a beginner."

"Shut up," I snapped, leaning against the pole as I tried to catch my breath.

"Move please," he said, nudging me aside. "Let me show you how it's done."