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?

The better question: is this a test I even want to ace?

My sneakers pound the pavement, and my ponytail whips against my back, fueling my desire to make my steps defter and strides longer. Minutes whir by, and I'm still going strong. I take a peek behind me, only a few feet separating me from Joanna and a couple more from Martina—a surprising improvement. Natalie and Cynthia are about level to my spot but keep a healthy distance of five feet, almost running on the grass on the side of the road.

"Let's go, girls, keep going!"

I have no idea who said that, but all I know is it wasn't Axel. Maybe I don't need verbal encouragement from him either, as his voice is stuck in my head and urges me to keep going.

He somehow knew how to do everything right. He trained me to a tee for whatever challenge awaited me each week, and now is no different.

For the next leg of the race, Joanna and I go back and forth; one minute she's feet ahead, and the next I've created even more distance between us. In a turn of events, Willow doesn't even have a remote lead, trailing fifteen feet behind us. I wonder if she's given up or just doesn't have it in her today to keep going, but for once, I don't care.

Joanna passes me again, and I throw all thoughts of giving up into the garbage. I charge forward and sprint as fast as I can, until I can't make out a single face behind me. At this point, my stamina is coming from some toxic combination of spite and vengeance, wanting to go out with a bang for my battered ego.

I maintain my same pace for the next ten minutes or next twenty—I can't even tell—until the yellow line comes faintly into view. I close my eyes, and that color is all I see.

A couple more feet, a couple more feet, a couple more—

I open up and discover I've already crossed the line. That's all it takes for me to double over and calm my ragged breathing, reveling in the feeling of being done, in every way possible.

"Congratulations, Whitney."

I don't need to look up to know who that voice belongs to, but I do anyway, sending a complacent smile back his way.

***

"Whitney, I'd like to have a word with you."

After dinner, Bob stops me in the middle of the hall with a light hand on my shoulder. No one else is around, and he takes that to his advantage as he leads me down the hallway to his office, the same one Axel and I enjoyed a cup of coffee in before.

I peek my head in through the open door and expect to find it empty. To my surprise, Axel reclines in a chair adjacent to Bob's desk, head turned to the left. I quietly walk inside and stand on the other side of the desk.

"Alright," Bob says and takes a seat in his black leather office chair, folding his arms across his chest. Axel looks up from his phone at the sound of Bob's voice and gives me a small nod. "Have a seat."

He gestures for me to sit down in the black padded chair on the other side of his desk. I gingerly sit down and cross my legs, finding it hard to make direct eye contact with his intimidating blue gaze. I distract myself with the photographs on the shelf behind his desk and find two of him and Cindy, dating back at least fifteen years. When I squint, I notice another picture behind them with the word "family" imprinted all over the frame, a photo of Cindy and Bob with a red-headed girl standing in between them.

Miranda...? I rip my gaze away, realizing Miranda must be their daughter.

Holy shit. But it makes so much sense. How else could Bob and Cindy have forced her to come back this year?

"How are you doing?"

I fidget in my seat, not used to a gentle tone from him. "Oh, um, I'm good. A little tired, I guess, but it's no big deal."

"You can be honest," he chuckles, eyeing my sagging shoulders. "I think it's a commendable trait to know when to stop pushing yourself in the fitness world, but I guess I haven't given you all that much of a choice these past few weeks." No, you definitely have not. "But this experience is almost over, and I have to say you've caught our attention for your sheer willingness to challenge yourself and never settle for less than your best. Right, Axel?"

"Oh, for sure," he mumbles, nodding. Some part of me wonders if he was forced to be here, noting his distant gaze and preoccupation with his phone. "She always keeps me on my toes."

Bob clears his throat. "Compliments aside, we're here to propose an offer. I've recently learned there will be some departures from my current team and figured why not tap into my own talent pool?" Oh, so Axel really wasn't kidding. "How would you feel about joining Bob Campbell's Intense Boot Camp as a trainer next summer?"

"Me?" I point to myself, as if he meant anyone else. "Oh, wow, that would definitely be...an adventure."

He folds his hands on his desk and leans forward. "Of course, you would need to become a certified personal trainer, but we would cover the costs of the course, exam, and necessary training, which you can complete alongside your regular responsibilities this year. The only thing we'd ask of you is to be in the state by next June to participate in our orientation and pre-camp training period."

I flicker my eyes to Axel, who is staring at the stack of papers on Bob's desk. I squint and make out a printed-out version of my application at the top of the pile, my name standing out in bold.

"How long do I have to consider this offer?" I ask, forcing my attention back to Bob.

"Ideally, within the next month, but you can contact us if you need a little more time." He leans his elbow over the stack, and Axel rips his gaze away. "I can put you in touch with a former trainer who had the same experience as you if you want to get more of an idea what the transition will entail."

"That would be great, actually," I say, even though I know the mere idea of this job isn't the problem. It's who I will be spending the next summer with. "I'll definitely consider the offer and let you know either way this month. To be honest, I never thought I'd come to like exercise this much."

Bob cracks a smile and stands up, extending a hand. "That's the goal here, Whitney. Do let us know when you decide."

"Of course," I say and return the handshake. "Thank you for your time."

"Not a problem," he says and turns his attention to Axel. "You can show her the way out, Axel. I appreciated all of your valuable contributions to this discussion."

I try to hide a smirk at the sarcasm, looking down. Axel just mumbles something before standing up. He walks ahead of me and holds open the door, and I slip back outside, unsure what's gotten into him.

We pause in front of the exit, and I try to read his distracted eyes. "I didn't think Bob would actually offer me a job," I say, attempting to spark some conversation.

He shifts his gaze from the door to my hopeful expression and nods. "Trust me, he really does think you're competent. But, at the end of the day, the choice is yours, Whitney."

"Is something wrong?" I place a gentle hand on his arm but retract it when I notice he doesn't respond warmly. "If you want me to just get going, that's fine."

"No," he says but then stops himself. He grips the nape of his neck and works his jaw back and forth, looking the other way. Sighing, he finally makes eye contact. "Look, I'm happy for you. You should be proud of your achievements here and the many more I'm sure you'll accomplish in the future. But I can't... I can't let you say yes to that job and still keep my mouth shut."

My lips part in shock. "Is there something you have to tell me?"

"Yes," he says, for once not beating around the bush.

"Okay..." I trail off, fighting my nerves. "Then tell me."

He shakes his head and takes a step back towards the door. "It's not something I can explain in five minutes. Have dinner with me tomorrow night, and I'll be sure to tell you nothing but the truth then."

He leaves without another word, not even to explain where I'm supposed to meet him tomorrow.

But I'll be damned if I don't show up, anyway.