Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Sayla
“All right, folks.” Bob passes out papers to each of the retreat guests gathered outside the office. “Here’s an agenda showing the exact schedule for the rest of our time together.”
Agenda.
At the word, my heart soars. Three little syllables, and my fingers are already itching to attach the sheet to one of my clipboards.
Dexter slides up beside me, holding a sheet of his own. He’s one of the last to rejoin the group, but he’s still on time, so I refrain from being snarky to his face or even judging him silently.
I’d be prouder of my exceptional self-control, except he smells so ridiculously good, I almost start to drool.
It’s like he put on fresh pine tree cologne or something.
Or maybe he washed his hands with camp soap.
I might just be that hungry. Either way, my mouth is watering.
So I make a big show of scanning the agenda for the retreat.
“Hmm.” A few of the things on the list don’t sound too torturous. Nature painting, yoga, karaoke. “Oooh.” I do a little triumphant hop. “Trivia! Yes!”
“Don’t tell me you like to compete, Kroft.” Dexter nudges my side. “I had no idea.”
“Har har har.” I aim a little scowl at him, completely unmoved by the fact that his entire body just bumped up against mine. “You’re so funny, I forgot to laugh.”
He takes a moment, jaw shifting as he bites back a laugh. “Wow. Sick burn, Kroft. You been holding on to that one all day?”
My cheeks heat up. I mean, the man isn’t wrong. That was about the lamest comeback I’ve ever made.
Note to self: You’re off your game, Sayla. Get back on top of things. Now.
“Let me guess what sounds good to you,” I say drily. “Rock climbing. Ropes course. Nature hike. All the athletic stuff.”
He lifts a shoulder, then drops it. Super casual. “I’m just relieved there’s no horseback riding.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I pretend to gawk at him. “Did the invincible Mr. Michaels just confess to being scared of a little pony?”
“I sure did.” His mouth slips sideways. “I’ve got no problem admitting I don’t want to mount some two-thousand-pound animal I’m supposed to control with a thin rein.”
The image teases a laugh out of me. “Well, I love horseback riding. As far as I’m concerned, the bigger the horse, the better.”
“I guess you win that one, Kroft.” He holds on to his smirk, glancing back down at the sheet.
“Other than horses, I’m open to pretty much anything.
” He starts naming off a few activities.
“Campfire chat. Scavenger hunt. Trail hike. These all sound okay to me. Like I told you before, I’m not a stereotype. ”
I square my shoulders. “Neither am I.” Except yeah, I kind of am.
I’ve been eyeing Tori all day, making assumptions about her, just because I’m envious of her Lulus and her curves and her …
confidence. But she’s been nothing but sweet to me while I’m acting like a jealous girlfriend.
I can do better. And I should probably start practicing now.
With everyone.
“Sorry for teasing you about the horses,” I say. “And about the stereotyping. I’ve been kind of a brat today.”
“Today?”
I punch his arm. “Hey!”
“But seriously, though.” He chuckles. “We’re both out of our element here. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
I look up at him, and my lips twitch. “You said hard on.”
He coughs out a laugh. “Whoa, Kroft. You’ve been hanging around teenagers too much.”
“Or I just love Michael Scott.”
“From The Office?” Dex scratches his beard. “I see him as more of a ‘that’s what she said’ kinda guy. But I appreciate the effort.”
He aims his megawatt smile at me, and my insides warm, so I busy myself with attaching the agenda to my clipboard.
When the last of the retreat guests have gathered, Bob and Hildy kick off their tour by leading us over to an enormous lodge across the clearing.
This one looks like an oversized log cabin with a generous wraparound porch.
On either side of the building, groups of picnic tables sit under shady trees.
Inside, the cavernous space is surprisingly bright, thanks to several walls of windows cut from the logs.
A clatter of trays comes from behind a set of swinging doors, and the scent of fresh-baked bread fills the air.
Several large fans whir overhead, and rough-hewn beams frame the ceiling.
One side of the room is lined by large wooden tables with vats of ice water, giant coffee urns, and a self-service station with creamers, sugars, and stirrers.
Shelves of mugs and cups are off to the side.
There are spots for cutlery, napkins, and condiments, plus a couple of big receptacles for trash and recycling.
“In case it’s not obvious,” Bob says, nodding toward the swinging doors, “that’s the kitchen in there, and out here is our mess hall.”
“Lunch is in an hour,” Hildy announces. “We’ll be serving spaghetti and homemade garlic bread. There’s also salad and a meat-free sauce alternative for the vegetarians.”
At this point, I’m so hungry, I feel like I could digest my own stomach. I press a hand to my abdomen at the same time Dex slips a protein bar into the other.
“In case you change your mind,” he says under his breath.
“Still not poisoned?” I whisper.
“Nah. You’re safe,” he says. “Probably.”
So I inhale the protein bar while we move over to what Bob refers to as the main lodge. From the outside, this structure looks a lot like the mess hall, except it sits farther back, tucked into the edge of the tree line.
Inside, the space smells faintly of eucalyptus. Yoga mats are stacked in one corner. Meditation cushions fill another. One whole wall of windows faces the trees, letting light spill in. On the opposite wall is an indoor rock climbing station.
Dex will be better at that than I am, for sure.
We head out back behind the building, where a ropes course looms between the lodge and the trees.
It’s a tangle of cables and platforms and planks arranged high above the ground.
A breeze blows past us, and the metallic creak of harnesses sounds overhead.
The thought of being at that elevation, with or without safety harnesses, makes my heart skip a beat.
Where are the two-thousand-pound horses when you need them?
Up next is an obstacle course with a series of bars to swing across and beams for balance. At the end is a long, low net I think we’re supposed to crawl under. The carpet of pine needles and damp earth underneath looks almost … fun.
Now this I’ll be good at, I think.
Beyond the course, a dirt path leads deeper into the woods, past a creek with mossy stones.
There’s a small, hand-painted sign marking the start of a hiking trail.
Meanwhile, the forest hums around us. Cricket songs.
A rustle of leaves. In the distance, a woodpecker knocks.
I don’t remember reading about woodpeckers in my research.
Very cool.
As we tromp back down the path, returning to the clearing, my heels rub against my boots. My Band-Aid supply is in my bag in the cabin. I glance at Dexter, wondering if he keeps those in his pockets too, along with spare protein bars. But I’m not going to ask.
He’s done too much for me already.
“Last but not least,” Bob says over his shoulder, “we’ll end at the heart of camp.”
We follow him and Hildy over to a big fire pit near the base of a wide, grassy hill. Rough log benches form a circle around the pit, and someone’s already stacked wood and kindling in the center.
Hildy spreads her arms wide and grins. “In case you couldn’t tell, this is our campfire,” she says. “Tonight we’ll end up back here to unwind and debrief with the group. But for now, we’ll be using this area for an icebreaker activity.”
Icebreaker?
I don’t remember this on the agenda.
“For the exercise,” Bob says, “you folks are gonna divide up into two separate groups of fifteen.”
My stomach gurgles, and not from hunger. A small groan slips out of me, and Dexter leans in over my shoulder from behind.
“What’s the matter, Kroft?” His breath is warm in my ear. “Worried there’s gonna be a schoolyard pick and no one’s gonna want you on their team?”
His chuckle tells me he’s joking, but my insides torque. That’s exactly what I’m worried about. My cheeks flame hot as my brain floods with memories of being chosen last in elementary school. But Dex has already seen too many of my weaknesses today.
There’s no way I’ll admit this to him now.
“I’m just trying to listen to instructions,” I hiss.
“I don’t think you can win at icebreaking, Kroft.”
“SHHH!”
“We aren’t formal around here,” Hildy says, “so just go ahead and split yourselves up into two random rows, then face each other. Since there’s an even number of you, you’ll each have a partner.”
Relief washes over me. At least I can be thankful for that. I won’t have to be left alone for any of the upcoming torture.
“Go on, then,” Bob directs. “Break into your lines.”
While everyone shuffles into two rows, I move as far away from Dex as possible, taking a spot at the opposite end of his line. Tori, on the other hand, positions herself directly across from him. I guess that means they’ll be paired up for whatever this activity is.
This sends an ache to my throat, and a sour taste floods my mouth, but Tori’s done nothing wrong.
So when she catches me looking at her, I arrange my face into a smile.
I want to be the kind of woman who supports other women.
Not someone who resents another female’s perfect hips or her perfect leggings or her perfect pout.
“Now here’s what you’re gonna do,” Bob says, and I jerk my attention back over to him.
“When Hildy says ‘Go,’ you’re all going to introduce yourself to the person across from you.
Name, workplace, where you live, whatever basic facts you want to drop.
But we want you to include one interesting detail about you that no one else here knows. ”
Interesting detail?