— Let Your Acting Training Begin —

I turn and walk to the workout room. To this day, I still know none of the proper names for the equipments.

Leg day.

I take off my hoodie, revealing just a black muscle shirt. I step up to the treadmill. It looks very similar to the ones in the workout gym at The Program. I click the on button and it starts slow.

The door behind me opens. It's Jay.

I lift my head, quickly, in attempt of a welcome. Nothing in return.

He's wearing a gray muscle shirt. Hm, we workout alike. He looks at the weights, then at me. He drops his bag by the door and plugs in some wireless headphones. He walks over to the treadmill next to me and gets on it. I stare at him. His arm muscles are huge. For basketball?

He turns his head to face me and I immediately look away. I bump my speed up.

He looks down at my speed turns his on and bumps it above mine.

A challenger.

I bump mine up one more. A slow run.

He looks over and frowns. He raises the speed.

I click above his.

He clicks. He is running now.

I raise two above his.

I side eye him as his eyes widen.

He hits it three times to get above me.

At this point we are sprinting. We are both getting tired.

I can do more. I click mine up.

He does the same. His large arms are pumping as he runs, starting to breath heavily.

I click one up more. I start to feel a burn.

I can sense his pain and frustration. Good.

He clicks it up too, pumping his legs as fast as they'll go. He is basically panting.

I notice my breathing getting heavy too. I start to control it. In slowly through the nose; put slowly through the mouth.

I click mine up. I see his eyes widen. They look as if they are about to pop out of his head.

Just to prove that he is better, he clicks his up. Sweat is forming on his forehead, slithering down his face.

I have to let him think he won. I wait a second and after sprinting, I click mine up. "Max speed." Oh, the treadmill talks.

Jay gasps, then clicks his up. "Max speed."

My legs pump, pretty fast, but I'm faster. I can beat him.

We run for about five minutes. Both of our legs are pumping. We're panting. Sweat pours from both of our faces.

All of a sudden, he slips. He flies into the air, and is launched back. The treadmill stops and Jay flops on the floor. I stop my treadmill, struggling to keep my balance. I rush over to him. He is definitely bruised.

He sits up, rubbing his banged up head.

"You good?" I ask, reaching to comfort him.

"Leave me alone!" He shouts, standing up, grabbing his bag, and rushing out, all in one, swift motion. My face is red. I'm huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf. I'm exhausted. All to prove that I'm better. Was it worth it? Maybe just a little.

"Kids, dinner is ready!" Mrs. Reed shouts.

Oh great. Perfect timing.

I push my blond hair back out of my face. My watch says 6:30. I guess it's true. Time does fly when you're having fun.

I get my hoodie and leave the workout room. I throw it on the bed in my room. I walk to the kitchen stairs and start down them. The aroma is amazing. The tomato sauce flows through my nose.

Jenna is already seated, as well as Mr. Reed. Mrs. Reed is standing at the oven, removing some garlic bread.

"Ah, Jack! Have a seat," Mr. Reed says. I walk over to the wooden chair and sit. The table is covered by a white tablecloth, and on it sits a bowl of salad and spaghetti.

"And here is that bread," Mrs. Reed says, placing 10 slices of bread sitting on a decorative plate, on the table.

"Jack, what do you want to drink?" She asks.

"Uh, what are my options?"

"Tea, soda, fruit juice, milk, and water. Probably more, I just don't know."

"Oh, water is fine."

She gets me a glass of water and gets the other's drinks too.

She brings them to the table just as Jay comes down the stairs. He still looks worn out and he is still in his workout clothes. I look away from him.
I get the feeling he doesn't like me...

They both take a seat. "Dig in!" Mrs. Reed says.

Alright Jack. Let your acting training begin.

I start to feel upset. I force myself to have a tear in my eye.

"Mr. and Mrs. Reed, you have no idea what this means to me. I can finally sit down, have a peaceful dinner, with no arguing and hitting." I start to cry more. "It's such a pleasure to be here, and I'm so grateful that y'all are letting me stay here."

"Oh, no worries, Jack," Mrs. Reed says, grabbing my hand. "First off, we want you to feel comfortable enough to call us Monica and Daniel. And, we can't imagine what has happened to you. We are just so glad that you can stay here too. Now, let's eat."

"Thank you," I say, wiping my tears.

Man, am I good.

"Can you pass the salad?" Daniel asks to Jay. Jay stares at him.

"What's the magic word?" Jay asks, rolling his eyes.

"Please?" Daniel asks.

Jay picks up the salad bowl and plops it in front of Daniel. A few of the green leafs fall out.

"Well what's got you all bent out of shape," Monica asks, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh nothing. Just that there is a complete stranger in our house, eating, sleeping, and not to mention, working out in the same location that I am. It's not right!"

"What do you mean not right?" Jenna butts in. "If you don't think taking in someone in need of a home and food is perfectly fine, then I don't know, are you even a sane human? Jack was left out on the streets, both parents dead, and wounded," she looks at me. "Sorry Jack," she says, then turns back to Jay. "He was traumatized. You don't have to worry about that here Jay. Your dad has never hit you, threatened your mom, or even threatened you. Jack didn't even know how to use TikTok, like come on. That app is seriously the best."

"Yeah, what kind of person doesn't know how to work TikTok?" Jay asks, or really shouts.

Damn, he's smarter than we thought.

I just look down, casually eating my spaghetti. This is definitely better than The Program's slop, so I better fatten myself up before I have to return.

"You know what," Jay shouts. "This is just a bunch of suspicious bullshit!" He scoots back in his chair, gets up, and storms up the stairs.

Second time today he has done that. He may be smart, but he acts like a six year old.

Jenna looks at me. "What did I tell you? An asshole, am I right?"

We finish up dinner after thirty minutes, the talking being at a bare minimum. Quite awkward if do say so myself.

"So, Jack, I never did catch your last name," Daniel says.

"It's Richards," I say, raising my brows.

"Hm, Jack Richards. Ha, kinda like Jack Reacher. Ever heard of that?" Daniel asks.

"Daniel Reed," Monica says. "He isn't a newborn."

Really and truly, I haven't heard of that. In The Program, we can only watch a few things. It's all spy and assassin related.

So I lie. "Well yeah, who hasn't heard of Jack Reacher? I've just never seen it."

"Perfect," Daniel says. "Family movie night Friday!"

Oh, cause that went well last time we were gathered together.

"Oh, um Monica," I say. "I wasn't able to grab pajamas on the way out. Do you happen to have spare or something?"

"You can use Jay's. He has too many pieces of clothing for his body anyways. And um, I'll get them for you."

"Thank you Mrs... I mean Monica."

She smiles. I turn to see Jenna has already gone upstairs.

I walk over to the stairs and go up them. The hallway upstairs is dark. It's silent too. I go into my room and pull out my flip phone.

I call Mrs. Simmons. She answers.

"Mrs. Simmons, I'm in so good. Well, there's only one minor issue. Jay, the son, suspects something, but I think he is just hotheaded. I may or may not have pissed him off by making him fall off of a treadmill."

"Jack, please do remember, you're not there to challenge them. You're there to bond."

"Yeah, sorry. It was just that—"

"Do it right, or face the consequences," she says sternly, hanging up the phone.

"Wow, no pressure," I say to myself, just as Monica walks in.

She's holding a stack of pajamas and behind her is Jay.

"What the hell mom? This is enough!" Jay screams.

"Jayson go back to your room," Monica says, trying to calm him. "It's only for a little bit until we can go to the store and get him his own."

"You know what. This is completely unbelievable. I guess I'm just not good enough for you, even though I'm the star basketball player, student council representative for the sophomores, and in the honors program. I'm smart, athletic, and I'm pretty attractive, thanks to y'all. But y'all don't care apparently. So whatever. I'll prove y'all wrong!" He says, walking away.

"Well, Jack, here you are," Monica says, placing the pajamas on the bed.

"Thank you. I'll be heading to the shower now."

"Ok, use whatever you need."

I nod and smile.

She leaves. Shower time.

I grab a white t-shirt and some shorts from the pajama pile and go to the bathroom.

The shower is straight across, and what's I like to call a fancy shower. Full glass and lots of knobs. The toilet sits next to it and next to the toilet is the sink. The sink counter is a white marbled granite. A mirror is above the sink. How pristine.

I look around. It's basic but neat. I strip down to my bare skin, turn the water on, and get in.

I soak myself in the warm water. Oh, what a feeling.