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We go into the kitchen and he pulls out two plates from a cabinet.
“We’re going to eat?” I ask, feeling hopeful. I am starving. It’s morning time now and my body is desperate for food.
“You have to earn that too. By doing this.” He places each plate in my hands. “Hold your arms out to the side.” He shows me, placing his arms out in a T position.
“Why?”
“If you can keep your arms like that, while holding these two plates, for as long as I say you can, then you’ll win your clothes back. You’ll also win breakfast.”
“How long do I have to hold them for?”
“Let me see,” he murmurs, checking his watch. “Five minutes. Just five minutes. But if you drop your arms during that time, then you won’t get your clothes back. And you won’t get breakfast either.”
“Can I not try again?”
“Sure. Tomorrow.”
My eyes widen. “Tomorrow?! But I’m hungry now.”
“You’re not in position to boss me around, princess. I’m not your damn maid. And this will be good for you. Put you in your place a little. Humble you.”
“Fuck you,” I snarl. “I don’t need humbling.”
He doesn’t say a word as he lifts my arms into a T position. It wouldn’t be so bad holding my arms like this if I didn’t have to also hold two heavy glass plates in each hand.
“Let’s begin.” He sets the timer on his watch.
Within seconds my arms are trembling. How am I going to hold out for five minutes?
“You don’t work out much, do you?” he asks.
“I do yoga and Pilates.”
“So, you’re weak then.”
“People who do yoga are not weak. Have you seen the things some people can do?”
He snorts. “What, like put your body into a pretzel? It’s a little impressive, I’ll be honest, but it’s not strength. Not real strength. Not the kind I have. If you wanted to be strong like me, you’d lift weights instead of those sissy girly exercises.”
“You are such an asshole,” I say through gritted teeth. It’s taking everything inside of me to keep my arms upright.
“I get that a lot.” He checks his watch. “Thirty seconds down.”
Holy… I know I will not be able to last the full five minutes. I keep telling my body to ignore the pain and continue on. The body can handle a lot more than the brain can.
But my brain is failing me. It’s telling me to give up because I will never be able to win against Finn. He is an unmovable force.
“You’re really shaking now.”
“Shut up.”
He chuckles and the sound only makes me want to slap him. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to do this, princess.”
I know I won’t be able to but that doesn’t mean I’m going down without a fight.
An idea hits me.
The heavy glass plate in both my hands would make for a great weapon. Surely Finn must have a key to be able to get in and out of the house if he locks it from the outside.