Chapter 10: Training Begins!

< Shirley >
When Dylan silently declared to me that he was going to take his revenge, I didn't expect that ogre would take it out on me during our first training.
My limbs were aching badly, and my body felt like it could evaporate in the air any moment now. All I could think at that moment was to take a rest.
With my exhausted pants came along Dylan's infuriating counting. "87, 88, 89..." and so on.
His sexy voice—when you first hear it, you might just fall head over heels for him, but trust me, when he's counting the number of your push-ups, nothing would get on your nerves more than his voice. At least that was my case.
"Can't I just stop?" I wailed before falling flat on the floor.
"Are you at 100 yet?" I painfully shook my head. "Then continue. You still have sit-ups and squats left," he said, not looking up from his brand new laptop.
"I'm dead already!" I whined and sat up, the aches in my body becoming more plausible with every new movement.
"I see you very much alive. Do tell me when you become a ghost," Dylan replied, and I scowled at him.
That jerk showed me no respect at all. That was the highest number of push-ups I had ever done in my entire life. The girl, who got tired climbing two flights of stairs every day, completed ninety push-ups. Wasn't that an accomplishment on its own?
I managed to stand up on my wobbly legs and grabbed a towel and a water bottle before plopping down on the couch beside him.
"When are you stopping your punishment game?" I hollered next to his ears, managing to slightly unnerve him. I chugged down the whole bottle of water while waiting for his reply which came about half a minute later.
"Despite it seeming a punishment to you, I'm thoroughly enjoying myself," he jeered.
Of course, that hellish demon would be enjoying himself.
"An eye for an eye, the world goes blind. So spare me my precious life," I begged after wiping my face with the towel.
"You started it," he scoffed.
"Why do I even need to do physical training?" I cried out.
"Because every professional race car driver is an athlete. You need to become one as well for that matter. It doesn't matter if your arm is skinny as a stick," he said, raising up my hand in the air to prove his point. I snatched it back and shot him a glare. "However, physical fitness is extremely important," he concluded.
"Still you're overdoing it," I whined.
"I won't deny that." He smirked bemusedly, and I puffed my cheeks. "Anyways, get back to your workout."
"What happens if I don't?" I asked daringly.
"Your loss, not mine," he replied curtly.
"But I'm tired. I want to take a long break," I pleaded.
"Do whatever you want to. I won't be responsible if you lose," and with that, he managed to send me on a guilt trip. No matter how I carefree was, I would feel bad if I waste his time and end up not winning.
"Okay, fine." I huffed in defeat and stood back up while stretching my body. Mild surprise crossed his face as he looked at me as if I had grown beautiful in his eyes all of a sudden—which was impossible. According to him, I was just an okay-looking girl, which I tried to console myself with 'not everyone has good taste'.
Dylan opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by his cell phone ringing. He excused himself while I went back to doing my workout.
I was sitting on the floor with my legs crossed after I was done with the remaining push-ups, waiting for Dylan to give me further instructions. When he came back, he said in a hurry, "We will continue it later."
"Why?"
He scratched the back of his neck and admitted skittishly, "Apparently, I had forgotten about a meeting in the afternoon."
I gasped and cupped my cheeks dramatically, exclaiming, "My goodness! Mr. Dylan Perfect Lewiston forgot about something!"
"For the record, I never said I was perfect." He gave me a flat look. "And do you always have to be such a drama queen?" I flashed him a toothy smile in reply. "Anyways, I think you have done enough exercise for the day, so-"
"What about sit-ups and squats?"
"I'll increase the amount of workouts bit by bit. We'll take it slowly from the start," he explained.
"One hundred push-ups on the first day, did that seem like a slow beginning to you?" I questioned.
He smirked and said, "That was payback for this morning." If there was a competition between me and Dylan for who's more evil, he would probably put me to shame. "Anyways, I have to leave now."
"Okay, bye-bye. Be safe on your way," saying that, I was about to get up and dance in the celebration of getting through my first day of training.
"Please don't start dancing until I leave," Dylan spoke up while picking up his things.
"Why not?" I pouted.
"Because it's weird," he said skeptically.
"You're weird," I accused.
"Says the chaotic weirdo that goes around stalking people," he taunted.
"Hey!" I called out behind him as he hurriedly left the gym. "Stupid jerk," I muttered under my breath, glaring in the direction he went.
I was about to lie down flat on the floor out of exhaustion when my phone chimed. I lazily grabbed it from the table and my eyes widened at the context of the message I received from Dylan.
Jerky Dylan:
Tomorrow six in the morning at my place. I don't want you to arrive a single minute later, got it?
"What the fuck?" I let out.
Six in the morning? Was he kidding me? I never got up that early in my entire life. Well, I might have gone to sleep at six a few times.
I sighed, knowing there was no escaping it. I had already made a pact with the demon Mafia. Now there was no other way out than to tolerate his torture until the day of the tournament.
You: Got it, sir :(
After replying to him, I packed my things and went home, though my body ached in every possible way. Dylan sure left me limping. Wait, that sounded really wrong.
Whatever. The important part was, I would have to go through hell with his training every day.