The Boy In Suite 121 (Watty Awards 2013)

Chapter Eighteen: Daddy Issues

It took six weeks, six weeks of intensive training; planning and scheming before we decided to even consider going back underground again. Kyle was still taking it hard, Sky was trying to box out her feelings of regret by training hard defensively and I… well I wasn’t sure I’d completely accepted the fact that Mina was gone.

Honestly though, we were all still pretty raw after Mina's death two and a half months ago. And we were taking no chances the second time around.   The only person not keen on the idea was Kyle and we let him sit out. I knew this was hard on him and going by the place where Mina was killed would not be good for him. I understood that, we all did. I could only imagine how he felt right now, but I couldn’t help but wonder if Travis felt the same way as well.

"I need a break." Sky panted and I was right next to her about to pass out. I liked to pretend that I was a strong runner and all, but to be honest running was just as bad as being hit by a truck.

"Please Jason?" I pleaded. He was killing us. And by us, I just meant Sky and I.  Owen was ready for mile eight, Travis was already on mile nine and Seth was tagging along with us to make sure we didn't kill over. The boys were all physically fit to begin with; they had the body to show for it. The last time I ran a mile was in the eighth grade when it was required. This was just cruel and unusual punishment.

"Fine, we can stop to get a snack and get water. But only for thirty minutes." He declared. I'd take that. I’d take anything I could get from him. He was one hell of a trainer, I’ll tell you that. Yesterday he only gave us a five-minute break and that was only after mile fifteen. 

We were on a strict Jason-Owen training schedule. Owen had us doing strength training Monday through Thursday. Jason had us running on the weekends, upping the mileage every day. And we were on day eighteen. 

I was going to die. 

The June sun was beating down on me and I was sure I was going to have a heat stroke. This wasn’t realistic training, they knew that. But they were going to make sure we were in top shape, especially for a fight.

God, this was not fair. Besides Mina’s death, I’ve done nothing to deserve such torture.

Seth and Owen ran to Owen's truck to grab the food and water while I laid down in the grass near a tree offering me the bliss of shade. 

There was no way in hell I’d be able to get back up. It just wasn’t possible.

"I'm pretty sure I have muscles in places unheard of." I complained as Jason sat next to me. Usually I’d take a moment to appreciate that he was sweaty and shirtless, but today I just couldn’t muster the strength to do so.

"You'll be fine. You're in better shape now. And I'm appreciating your shape." He mentioned and I rolled my eyes at him. He was right though, I was in the best shape I’ve ever been in. I’ve always had a semi-decent body shape, but I was toned and I actually had abs now. A four pack is better than none.

"I'd appreciate a massage right about now. My thighs are so sore." I probably encouraged his sexual innuendo, but it had been a while. I wasn’t in the condition to do anything but work out, eat and sleep for the past few weeks and when Jason wasn’t with me, he was at the gym because despite his six pack, “I’ve gotten out of shape.”

He smirked. "Well, it's the least I could do. I've been working you out, without working you out." 

"There are kids around, you two. At least keep it PG." Owen nodded at Jason's hand working its way up my thigh. It looked sinister, but it was nothing more than a harmless massage. I was really too sore to do anything else.