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“Yes, we will. Change this significant never happens without risk. Risk that is expertly handled by forward-thinking and intelligent men. We’ll manage it. We’ve managed it for sixteen years, and now our fruit is ripening. It’s ours to take.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

ANGEL SINCLAIR

Another week passed at the trials, and somehow I wasn’t kicked out. In fact, no one had been released from the program, and no one had quit. We just continued with our studies, endured the weird psychological testing and questioning, and kept up with the grueling physical testing in preparation for the next trial on Friday. None of us had any clue what it would be, but my best guess was that it would have to do with our physical capabilities. It was the one big area where we’d not been tested yet. It was also the area I was the weakest.

I started spending every day after dinner at the gym. Running was difficult, and my endurance sucked. To say I was pathetic at weights would be an understatement. Rope climbing, push-ups, or anything requiring physical flexibility would be certain to sink me.

But I didn’t want to go home, so I pressed on.

Wally and Frankie came with me to the gym most nights, but on Thursday night, the night before the next trial, I went alone. Frankie was helping Hala run through her lines for her acting homework, and Wally was working on a paper for English lit.

When I got to the gym, Jax was in the pool swimming, and Kira was on the elliptical machine. I watched Jax swim for a few minutes, judging his skill, before heading to the weights to warm up.

After about twenty minutes, Jax joined me. He’d changed from his swimsuit into shorts, but wore a cutoff white muscle shirt. His dark hair was still damp. I was careful to keep my eyes averted as he picked up some light weights and started his reps next to me.

“Aren’t you going to use the bench?” I finally asked after a few minutes. I wished we didn’t have the mirror in front of us, because it put him front and center in my line of vision, no matter how hard I tried not to look at him.

“Nope,” he said. “I rarely lift heavy weights. I start with a small amount of weight and do hundreds of reps. That builds long, lean muscles, not large, bulky ones. I’m in it for the strength, not the physique.”

His physique looked just fine to me. Not that I had noticed. Much.

My face started to get hot, because talking about a guy’s body was not a typical area of conversation for me, so I abruptly changed the subject. “Jax, why are you afraid of the water?”

“What?”He stopped lifting. “Why would you ask that? I was just swimming laps.”

“I know. I’ve seen you swimming several times. But you always swim on a side lane. If those lanes are taken, you don’t swim at all. You wait for a side lane to open. You also have this habit of touching the side wall every six to seven strokes. Except it’s not really a habit—it’s methodical. Every seventh stroke.”

“You werewatchingme?” His voice had risen slightly, his cheeks flushed.

“Well, yeah. I watch everyone. I just happen to be really observant.”

He started lifting weights again, although a bit faster than he had before. His brow was drawn together in a frown. “I’mnotafraid of the water. End of discussion.”

“Okay. I’m sorry if I upset you. I was just wondering.”

He lifted for a few more minutes and then left without saying another word. Apparently I’d hit a nerve, but why he’d be so upset about his swimming habits, I had no idea. Reminding myself to never try to initiate casual conversation again, especially with a cute guy, I finished my repetitions and headed back to the room for a shower.

Hala and Frankie were already in their pajamas and finished with their homework, because they were chatting. Kira was in bed reading a textbook, her back to the room, ignoring us as always. I hopped into the shower and also came out ready for bed. Kira had put aside her book and was trying to sleep; Hala was in bed, and Frankie lay on her back wearing a gel eye mask. I turned off the light and climbed into my bunk.

I couldn’t sleep. Again. After an hour of tossing and turning, I sat up in my bed and hugged my knees, sighing.

Frankie must have heard me, because she whispered up to me, “Angel, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry if I’m keeping you up,” I whispered back.

“You’re not. I can’t sleep, either. Are you worried about the trial tomorrow?”

I considered the question. I felt good coming off last week’s trial. I hadn’t been booted yet, so in terms of anxiety, I wasn’t as stressed out as I had been before. There was a lot going through my mind, including the conversation with Jax, but it was a cumulation of everything.

“I’m okay,” I lied. “How about you?”

“I’m fine. We’ll do as well as we can, you know.”

I lay back and slid my elbow behind my neck, resting my head on it. “I know. It just amazes me how nothing ever fazes you.”

“Well, there’s no sense in worrying about what hasn’t happened,” she said. “But you’re so logical, you already know that, right?” I could hear the smile in her voice.