Missing Streams

We Don't Talk About Gym Class - 7

I rubbed my hands together, feeling cold. We had been forced to wear tank tops, and I couldn't stand it. I was never one for exercise, but if it meant it could warm me up I was happy to do it.

Scarlet looked pissed off as she glared at Wexler, and I couldn't blame her. But I certainly wouldn't risk speaking up, so it was up to her to do anything about it. Wexler indicated we followed him, which we did. Scarlet dragged her feet as she went, but didn't speak.

Our first test was to bench press the maximum weight we could. That was reasonable. The fact that we had to start at the same level as our body weight made me nervous.

Scarlet went first because she had the lowest number of us. Standing on a scale, she was almost a hundred and eighty pounds. Whereas most girls I knew would faint if someone could see their weight, Scarlet didn't seem to care.

So Wexler set her up with weights as heavy as she was, which she lifted with ease. Well, she was still stressing herself to do it, but she could handle more than that. Scarlet made it up to a hundred-and-ninety pounds before she decided she was done. Having set the bar, we had to continue.

The first guy to go up was number nine and weighed some two hundred pounds. He could lift two-seventy-five and set the new record, which Scarlet obviously didn't care about.

Next up was a scrawny little guy, who totaled out at one-thirty for his weight, but only managed to lift eighty.

Now it was my turn, and I felt extremely self conscious as I stepped on the scale. Averting my eyes from the readout, everyone looked shocked. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw I had lost weight since I last checked. Down to one-oh-two, I tried not to show my pride.

"Good god, boy!" Wexler forced a laugh, slapping me on the back, "You need some meat on those bones!"

I shrugged, but didn't have a response for him. He set up the weights, even though we both knew I didn't stand a chance.

I couldn't make a hundred pounds even budge. Not ninety, or eighty, it was only at fifty I managed to lift it. Any embarrassment I felt was overshadowed by how proud I was of my weight.

Wexler lectured me briefly, but I wasn't listening. I didn't notice the last guy lift his weights either, since I was caught up in my thoughts.

Scarlet was looking at me weirdly, but she never said anything.

***

After a few more tests of strength, in which I consistently came last, Wexler let us take a break. He gave us some energy drinks and retreated to his office, leaving us be. Scarlet downed her drink before laying flat on the ground, apparently content with her position. The tests we had done were just straight up strength, and while Scarlet didn't match up to the two buff guys she was stronger than I could hope or want to be. She hadn't said a word since Wexler pissed her off, and I wasn't sure she'd take kindly to conversation. But with little else to do, I sat cross-legged next to her.

I didn't say anything, quietly sipping on my drink. Scarlet's eyes were closed and she didn't do anything for a minute. At that point she opened her eyes and looked at me, "Well? Are you going to say something? Make fun of me for all I care, you're just being creepy."

I shrugged, "I don't know. You don't talk much, so I wasn't gonna make you talk."

Scarlet laughed, her lips curling into a smile as she sat up, "You're allowed to talk to me, you know. I don't bite unless you ask politely."

I found myself blushing as I looked for something to say, which Scar seemed amused by. She laughed, turning back to the actual subject, "Seriously though, I haven't punched you yet, have I?"

"No."

"Then I probably won't." She snickered, snagging my drink from me, "Can I have some?"

"Go crazy." I grinned.

***

Scarlet was a lot more relaxed by the time we got back to doing testing, and seemed to be enjoying herself. Instead of being silent and bitter, she laughed and started talking shit as we went.

"C'mon Masson, work harder!" She smirked as we all did push ups, "Those arms must be made of spaghetti, I don't even know how you hold yourself up with 'em!"

"Shut the fuck up, Scars." He snarled, now pushing himself harder. I noticed Scarlet's smirk falter before she started egging on another kid, and I figured it was as good a time as any to stop the push ups. Scarlet spared me the insults as I sat down, and I wondered if I had heard him right. Masson was number nine, and although he hadn't been on the plane with us he looked at Scarlet like he recognized her. She'd said her friends call her Scar, but I couldn't be sure if that guy had actually called her Scars or not. I decided not to say anything yet, watching the rest of them do their push ups.

Scarlet ended up coming in first on that, consistently doing push ups at a slower speed but never stopping. The other guys were obviously offended, but Scarlet actually didn't rub it in their faces when they were done. She just remained quiet towards the end, eventually waiting for the next instructions.

The next test was our arms again, but instead of push ups we had to hold ourselves up by a metal bar. Definitely not my area of expertise, but Scarlet held a cocky grin. The rule was to keep our shoulders at the same height as our hands and to stay as long as we could. I didn't even know why I was trying.

My arms were on fire by the time I dropped to the ground, but I was only clocked in at fifteen seconds. I looked up to see Scar grinning at me, but there was something wrong. It took me a second to realize her right hand was red with blood from the stress, whereas her left hand looked normal. Remembering the airport, I had grabbed her hand which was strangely cold. I made note to ask about it, but also not to offend her.

***

"Oh, it's stupid really." Scarlet laughed, wiggling her fingers at me, "The big artery that goes to my hand is crap, so it gets cold or falls asleep easily. It's also why I'm missing this finger." She held up her right pointer finger as an example, "Not enough blood and it didn't develop properly. But yes, I could still count to ten as a kid."

I snickered as Scarlet took a swig of her newly acquired energy drink. Wexler wasn't going to let us lose too many of our precious electrolytes, because we'd supposedly die otherwise.

Scarlet was still drinking when her body suddenly flew forward, causing her to choke as she caught herself on her hands and knees. I turned to see Masson must have been the one to push her, and he wore an unsettling grin as he stepped towards her.

Before I could even think about doing something, he had stomped on her right leg, close enough that I imagined he could've broken her ankle. But that's not what happened. Instead her leg just collapsed under his force, crumpling into itself as if her bones were made of glass. Time froze for a moment before I realized there was no way that could humanely happen.

During the time I managed to stand there like an idiot, Scarlet did a multitude of things. Pretty cool things, at that. She had stopped choking, and didn't even bother trying to pull her leg away. Instead she used her good leg and kicked him just below the knee, sending Masson to the ground. I would've taken Scar's hand to help her up, but she pushed herself up to her feet without my help. Standing on one good foot and one broken one, she sneered at Masson, having fallen on his ass.

"Come within three feet of me again and I'll break your knee this time." Scarlet looked absolutely furious, and even Masson was too scared to try anything. Nobody spoke for a moment, when Wexler's voice rang across the gym.

"What the hell is going on here!?"