Page 41 of Hate You, Maybe
The guy sure seems to touch her a whole lot more than necessary. Like when they get into their harnesses. His palm might as well be cradling her entire … harness area. I’m tempted to jump up and say something.
Like “dude, keep your hands off her area.”
But Sayla’s strong enough to stick up for herself, and anyway, I’m her coworker, not a jealous boyfriend. Still, Fern must notice me noticing Sayla, because she clears her throat, waits for me to make eye contact with her, then says in a low, easy voice, “Be sure to pay attention to your breathing, everyone.”
Huh. At least she said “everyone” and didn’t call out my distractedness specifically. But how exactly am I supposed to pay attention to my breathing when Hogan’s spewing hot air all over Sayla?
“Now, let’s try inhaling again,” Fern says. “We’re going deep, taking oxygen into our bodies, for four seconds. One, two, three, four. In through your nose, to your chest, through your belly, and all the way down to your feet.”
Feet?
I don’t know about you, but I do not breathe with my feet.
As it turns out, exhaling is almost as big a production as the inhale, and we go like this for a while before Fern helps us get bendy and stretchy. Meanwhile, I do my best not to stare at Sayla the whole time.
When it’s the next group’s turn to climb the rock wall, Tori makes a beeline for me, probably wanting to pair up, so I quickly turn to Gretchen, one of the nurses, and offer to be her partner. Like I said before, Tori’s nice enough, but I definitely don’t want to give her the wrong idea.
Gretchen and I do just fine on the rock wall. Unlike Hogan, I manage to steer clear of her entire harness area, and I only look over my shoulder a couple of times to see how Sayla’s stretching and yoga is going.
Three times, max.
It takes about an hour for every group to finish their turns climbing. Afterward, Bob instructs us to gather on the matsfor the next activity. Then Hildy tells us we’ll be back working in our same groups of six again.
Great.
One person stays up front, and the other five stand behind. Whoever is in front can close their eyes and let themselves fall backward. To really complete the challenge, you have to go straight back. No staggering of legs. Just stiff as a board, trusting the people behind will catch you.
Before we begin, Bob reminds us the mats are made to absorb our weight, sort of a guarantee we won’t be injured if we actually hit the ground. But they also don’t want anyone to participate who’s uncomfortable.
“In other words,” Hildy says, “these trust falls are totally voluntary.”
Still, I’m here to show I’m open for any challenge, right? So I give it a shot. A couple times.
Here’s the thing, though: Not knowing for sure there’s someone behind me, someone strong enough to catch my body as I drop, gets me in my head. So I keep stepping back. Opening my eyes. Balking when the time comes to actually trust the people behind me.
Sayla, though? She nails the fall every time. Eyes closed, arms crossed over her chest, she just lets go.
And someone always catches her.
Hogan.
Yeah.
At this point, I’m more than ready to change up groups. I’ve had just about enough of watching Hogan fondle Sayla. So after the trust fall, I head right to her during our break, hoping we can pair up for the final exercise before dinner. According to the agenda, it’s a mystery activity. I have no idea what that means, but I suppose that’s the point.
“Nice job on the rock wall,” I say. And I mean it.
“Thanks.” She clutches her clipboard to her chest. “You too.”
I’m not proud of this, but my chest swells a bit, thinking she was watching me. Then she says, “You need to work on your trust fall, though. And your stretching was abysmal.”
“Wow, Kroft.” I chuckle. “Way to take me down a peg.”
Her mouth quirks. “I counted two pegs, actually.”
Savage.
“Anyway, we should try to work together for this next activity,” she says. “It might be good for Bob and Hildy to see us cooperating.”
