Ninety-seven.
A drop of sweat rolled off my nose as I straightened my arms, completing a push-up.
Ninety-eight.
My arms felt like jell-o. I was losing form, and my lower back was starting to ache.
Ninety-nine.
I collapsed down on the ground. The grass felt cool on my hot cheek.
It hadn’t taken that long to finish the laps around the gym with the pace Mr. Dawson set. He wasn’t done with our torture by any means. As soon as we were done running, he took us outside next to the Cazadores track. I’d already done more sit-ups than I’d done in my entire life, a cool 124 and a half before I gave up. I was counting that half. I’d earned it. But the rest had done over 500. They were beasts. No wonder they all had amazing bodies.
Everyone was still trucking along, like there was nothing to 200 push-ups. Their bodies moved to the ground and up together.
I rolled onto my side facing Chris and massaged my biceps. “I can’t do it. I can’t do one more freaking push-up.” Triple digits wasn’t something humanly possible. Or Tessa-possible.
Chris looked over at me, pausing an inch from the ground. “What are you? A girl?” Chris pushed himself off the ground, clapped once, before landing, and did it again.
“Oh, come on! Are you for real?” I shoved him.
“Hey! Watch it!” Shannon said as Chris tumbled into her.
A throat cleared above me. “Trouble, pups?”
I rolled myself up and sat on my heels. “Not anymore. I’m almost breathing normally again.”
He crossed his arms.
“I can’t do one more, Mr. Dawson. My arms have turned into cooked spaghetti noodles. And they’re shaking.” I held them out.
His mouth set in a firm line.
“I’m not used to this. It’s a miracle I lasted this long.” My stomach growled. “And I’m starving. There’s no telling what could happen, and I don’t want to be responsible for any more disruptions today.”
He laughed. “Okay. Okay. You’re done for now, but you need to be at my cabin in thirty.”
If I was in trouble for not finishing the work-out, I was going to freak out. “Because I’m not as strong as Captain America over here?”
Chris picked up his pace at the attention.
Mr. Dawson shook his head. “No. You’ve surprised me with how well you’ve done today. I expected you to drop out while we were running.”
I patted myself on the back. “Give me a few days. I’ll kick all their butts.”
“Care to put money on it?” Chris said.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Alright. Enough,” Mr. Dawson said. “You’ve got 30 minutes, Tessa. I don’t want to have to come find you.” The threat behind his words gave me the energy to get up. He started to walk away but stopped. “It’s straight back behind the medical wing, okay?”
Shannon stopped mid-push-up. “Does that mean we’re done here?”
“Nope. Listen, pups. We’re hitting the course in five, everyone runs it once and then we’ll do some asanas to finish. I want to see you working! Up and down! Now.”
“You okay?” Meredith said from the ground.
“Fine.” I stood on shaky legs. I was going to be in a world of hurt tomorrow. “Guess I’ll see you later?” I brushed myself off and went back to the dorms to shower.
Even though I was physically exhausted, my mind raced as I showered. What did Mr. Dawson want to talk to me about? I wondered if it was because I ran out of his class. But he couldn’t really expect me to stay there while that jerk, Nikki, said all those things about me. I hoped it wasn’t the whole “implications” thing. Wasn’t being a werewolf punishment enough?
That workout destroyed some major calories, and left my stomach feeling hollow. I threw on some clothes without really looking at what I was wearing and grabbed a thin pair of lace gloves. I took a sandwich and soda from the common room as I left, eating as I walked.
I bumped into Dastien on the way to Mr. Dawson’s cabin.
“Hi?” I said.
He stopped to let me walk in front of him. I looked over my shoulder and he was right behind me. “Are you following me?”
“No.” He grinned. “We’re going to the same place.”
He didn’t say anything as we walked. I moved to walk next to him and gave him a very overt once-over. He was wearing a pair of khaki pants and an Underworld T-shirt for their “Best of” album.
Why did he have to be so awesome? Next to Nine Inch Nails, Underworld was pretty much my favorite band. “Nice shirt,” I said.
He rolled his eyes. “Sure.”
“I’m being serious. I love Underworld.”
“Fine.” He raised an eyebrow. “Then what’s your favorite song?”
I walked backward, facing him. “Back to testing me?”
He shrugged. “I have unusual taste in music. Most people don’t know anything about the groups on my shirts, but they always have a comment.”
By “people” he totally meant girls. He thought I was hitting on him. I was, but that was beside the point. I went back to walking normally before I tripped over something. “‘Born Slippy.’”
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes, and I stuck out my tongue at him. He stopped walking. “That one’s too popular.”
“Fine. How about ‘Cowgirl.’”
“Another.”
He thought he could break my Underworld knowledge. How cute. “Pearl’s Girl.”
He laughed.
“King of Snake.”
“Okay, I believe you.”
“‘Moaner.’ I can keep going.”
He laughed harder.
“‘Push Upstairs.’ ‘Rez.’ ‘Jumbo.’”
He put his hand over my mouth. “Enough.”
When he lowered his hand, I crossed my arms. “Never question my love of obscure electronic music.”
“As it happens, I like your shirt too.”
Crap. What shirt was it? I glanced down, and met his gaze. I waited patiently, tapping my foot.
“‘Flaming June.’ ‘Knowledge of Self.’ ‘Somnambulist.’” He started singing. “Simply being loved, loved, loved. Is more than enough.”
He had to have an amazing voice. I shoved him. “Okay. I got it. When it comes to music, we’re totally weirdo twinkies.”
Dastien’s smile disappeared. “I think you might find it’s more than that.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
He cleared his throat. “Do you really like Chris?”
I gave him my best sly grin. “Sure. He’s a nice guy.”
“Don’t be dense.”
I squared my shoulders. “You really think calling me a fancy word for dumb is going to get you anywhere?”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he said softly.
This guy was more than frustrating. “Honestly, I have enough to deal with right not without worrying about hurting a couple of boys’ feelings. I need time to figure this out.” I motioned to myself.
“You’re not answering my question.”
“And you’ll notice that I never accused you of being dense.”
“Then I’ll ask a different question. What do you feel for me?”
God. Like that wasn’t a loaded question. “I feel so many things for you that I don’t know my ass from a hole in the ground.” I sighed. “Let that be enough for now.”
He started to close the distance between us but dropped his hand before it could touch my face. “It’s enough.”
“Good. Because now we’re late.”
We walked around the medical building to a small cabin. I climbed up the three steps onto the porch. A well-worn, wicker rocking chair sat next to the door. Before I could knock, the thick wooden door swung open.
“Come inside,” Mr. Dawson said. He’d changed from his workout clothes into a pair of faded jeans and a green T-shirt. The piney soap from his shower blocked all other scents.
The cabin was one large room. The bed stood against the wall to the right. A door next to the kitchen opened just enough so that I could see the bathroom. To the left, was a small sitting area. A kitchen with a small breakfast nook that looked out to the trees took up the rest of the room. The two men I’d seen parking the Expedition earlier stood up from their chairs in the sitting area when we entered.
“Tessa McCaide, meet Sebastian Braun and Donovan Murry. Two of the Seven,” Mr. Dawson said.
Oh crap.