Jolie
The scenery passes by in a blur as Colt drives us to Olympia, the home of the G.O.D.S. He chats as we drive, telling me training starts today and that we have a lot of work ahead. I feel like Mr Z paired me with him because of my anger towards my team. This won’t last. Colt has his own team to train with, considering I have to go up against them in the trials. His team is actually pretty cool; I met them at lunch yesterday. It’s a super weird dynamic they have, seeing as how their sixth doesn’t seem to be dating any of them.
My knee bounces nervously as we’re let through the massive steel gates, and he drives us to the parking lot. He rambles on about this place, and I listen with rapt attention, taking it all in. This is the facility that everyone aspires to attend once they graduate high school, and the answers I seek are contained within these walls. So far, I’ve seen the main part of Olympia, where Mr Z’s office and the labs are, but this is all new.
Colt points out what each building is as we walk towards our destination. I try to take it all in, but the campus is so vast that I’ll have to figure it out over time. It honestly looks like any other school from the outside, though.
“This is one of the gyms,” he explains as we enter a nondescript building. “We will be training here today. There are nicer gyms, but they’re generally booked for those who have been here for a while. Since we don’t technically go here yet, we’re stuck with this place.”
Scanning the room, I have to admit this place kind of looks like a dump. The walls are a light beige colour, with no fancy logos or mirrors to check your form in, and I could be mistaken, but I think there is blood splattered in various spots. Mats—which have seen better days—line almost the entire floor, some with people already training on them.
Instead of commenting about how much of a shithole it is, I mutter, “This place looks nice.”
“It’s okay. Let’s get your clothes sorted first. Mr Z sent a box down for you,” he says, pointing to a container in the corner.
Colt walks over to collect it, then drops it on the floor in front of me, opening it wide. He pulls out a G.O.D.S polo that matches the one he is wearing. It also contains a pair of long pants, boots, a training bra, spandex shorts, and a few other articles of clothing, plus a duffle bag and a pair of sneakers.
“Every time you come here, you need to be dressed appropriately,” he explains. “Always wear the uniform in and out. You get changed into your workout gear once you’re here or wear it underneath.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
He hands me my workout gear and points to the women’s locker room on the other side of the gym. “Get changed, then we can go over some basic self-defence and see where you’re at.I watched your fight with Summer, and you have some street skills, but you need some work.”
“Thanks for telling me I’m shit... in a nice way,” I say sarcastically.
He winks at me, and I head into the changing rooms. There are a few girls in here also getting changed. They watch me curiously, but I don’t doubt that they already know who I am. I see Blayne, Colt’s sixth, standing in front of a locker. A bright smile takes over her face when she sees me, and she waves me over. It’s super weird how teams work. I know Summer and all of her guys are dating, but I’m not sure of the dynamic in Blayne’s team. Everything seems platonic between the six of them. It’s not my place to ask, but I can’t say I’m not curious.
“Jolie, did you come to get your ass kicked?” she asks with a laugh.
“If you class Colt knocking me to my ass so he can get on top of me, then yes.”
She cackles hysterically, and a snort escaping her nose makes her laugh even harder. I watch for her reaction, waiting to see if jealousy kicks in, but it doesn’t.
“That’s Colt for you. Just a tip, he is super ticklish, so get your hand under his pit and he will tap out every single time.”
“Good to know,” I say as I strip down and change into my workout gear. The sports bra and spandex shorts fit me like a glove.How the hell does Mr Z know what size I wear?Even the shoes are the correct size.
“I’ll see you out there,” she says as she slams her locker shut, then exits the room.
Finishing the laces on my shoes, I grab all my clothes from the bench and leave the locker room. Skirting around the outside of the room and the sparring partners to where my box of stuff is, I shove the wad of clothing into the duffle bag.
Scanning the mats, my eyes fall on Colt as he and Blayne circle each other. Colt taunts her and she lunges at him. She manages to get a few good hits in, but he does a damn good job of evading her oncoming attacks.
Seeing Blayne at school and now seeing her here at the gym—it’s almost like she’s two different people. The sports bra and shorts she’s wearing reveal ripped muscles that are hidden by our uniforms. Her dark hair is pulled tight in a ponytail on top of her head, and the brown of her eyes stand out more without the presence of makeup covering her face.
Their sparing continues until he has her pinned on the mat. He looks over at me with a triumphant grin on his face. “Your turn, Cupcake.”
I walk over to the mat as Colt helps Blayne up and tells her to go spend some time on the treadmill. She nods, shooting me a knowing look and a wink. Bending down and swiping a hand towel off the floor, Blayne wipes the sweat from her face, then makes her way over to the gym equipment.
Colt walks over to where I’m standing on the edge of the mat and places a hand on my lower back. With a nudge, he says, “Let’s see what you’ve got. Try to get me down on the mat.”
For the next ten minutes, I try to catch Colt while he continuously sidesteps me, runs in circles, slaps my ass, and generally makes me laugh.
Checking the clock on the wall, I see I only have a few minutes left until I need to get changed and meet Mr Z. I messaged him before Colt and I left the school grounds, arranging for him to pick me up here. I figure afterwards he can have his driver drop me back off to Boston’s car, which I left at the school.
“Let’s give it one last shot,” he says with a smirk.
I take a step forward, simultaneously lifting my sports top, and his mouth falls open, so I strike quickly at his neck.