"Chest out, stand straight... leg in attention!" Regina barked like a drill sergeant from a war movie, pacing around me like a hawk scouting for weakness.
Her eyes were sharper than a knife, and her voice could cut through steel.
I was standing there, stiff as a plank, trying not to imagine what it would feel like to whack her with my training sword—if only Liam hadn't begged me to stay and warned me not to slap her into next week.
If I had a dollar for every time she yelled at me, I'd be rich enough to buy her a one-way ticket to somewhere far, far away—preferably a deserted island with no Wi-Fi.
"Regina! Are we training for the contest… or for the freaking military?" I finally snapped, my voice dripping with frustration.
I was pretty sure I just lost half my soul in that moment.
Emma, the angel of patience and the only sane person in this chaos, giggled and gently pulled me aside, her eyes twinkling like she had a secret joke no one else knew.
"You don't need to go through all this," she whispered, smiling so sweetly I swear she could sell ice to an Eskimo.
"Just be yourselves, and people will love you. Trust me."
I blinked, processing her words.
"Thanks," I muttered, feeling a little calmer, even if Regina was still barking orders like a crazed dog with a megaphone.
Emma's smile widened.
"See? Easy. Now, let's get you out of this torture chamber before she makes you do push-ups until your arms fall off."
Meanwhile, after Regina's marathon of intense, sweat-drenched, scream-filled training—think of it as a scene straight out of a fantasy war movie, but with more tears and less dignity—it was finally dawn.
Liam, ever the gentleman and the official winner of 'Most Overenthusiastic Trainer,' took Emma and Regina home with all the grace of a hero in a cheesy action flick.
And I was left behind, alone with my brother, Ethan, who was busy trying to look important but only managing to look like a confused chicken.
"So… what are you guys doing?" I asked, rubbing my aching shoulders as I eyed them suspiciously.
Mark sighed heavily, then suddenly pulled out a book from nowhere—like magic—and started flipping through the pages with no real interest.
"I will just read this… and waste my time," he muttered, voice dripping with boredom as he settled into his chair.
Jake smirked and let out a long, exaggerated sigh.
"I'll be in my room…" he announced, standing up with a dramatic flair, like he was about to escape a boring party.
Before he could leave, I quickly reached out and caught his arm.
"Wait, Jake," I whispered, voice small but desperate.
He paused and looked down at me, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"What?" he asked, clearly ready to escape the hunger crisis.
I could see the annoyance creeping onto his face, but I pressed on.
"I'm hungry..." I whispered softly, almost embarrassed.
Ethan's eyes darted to me in an instant, like I'd thrown a tiny bomb in the room. His gaze flicked away before I could even blink.
He looked toward the window, pretending he wasn't interested.
Jake gently yanked his arm away from me, giving me that "Seriously?" look.
"Go get something in the kitchen. I'm sure you'll find something. Since you don't want to learn how to cook," he said, shrugging like it was no big deal.
I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might fall out.
"Fine," I muttered, sinking deeper into the couch cushion as Jake turned and headed toward the door, probably to escape the hungry tears.
I sat there, clutching my stomach, thinking,
I am very hungry and I can't tell them… Oof. And I can't cook either… and... My hands clenched into fists as a wave of hunger made my stomach feel like a twisting, gurgling tornado.
Minutes felt like hours, and I was there, whining like a sad puppy, wishing I had some snacks or a magic food fairy.
But finally, I decided enough was enough.
I pushed myself up, trying to look brave.
"Where are you going?" Mark asked, his voice calm but with that 'here we go again' tone as he looked up from his book.
"Kitchen," I replied, trying to sound casual but feeling more like a desperate food explorer.
"I'm hungry," I added, as if that explained everything.
He studied me for a second, then asked, "Need any help?"
I shook my head quickly, forcing a smile.
"No, no. I got this. Thank you," I said, trying to sound confident but secretly hoping I'd find something edible—preferably not burnt—to quell my hunger.
Mark nodded and returned to his book, while I took a deep breath and headed into the kitchen—ready for the wild food adventure that awaited.
Maybe I'd find snacks, or at least some cereal that wasn't too stale.
stood there, feeling completely lost.
I wasn't sure what I was supposed to eat.
Cereal was all gone, and the only things left were carrots and some vegetables.
Great.
I couldn't just eat them plain—I'd have to cook, but I didn't even know where to start.
Honestly, I was pretty sure I couldn't even make my mom's birthday cake right now, and that thought made me feel even more useless.
Mark had tried to help, but I told him I didn't need any help.
Why am I so dumb? I sighed loudly and turned to head back to the living room, feeling overwhelmed and hopeless.
Suddenly, a figure made me freeze in place.
I looked up, and it was Ethan.
He was walking past me, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—like he was trying to hide a concern behind that icy exterior.
He headed straight for the sink, his movements calm and precise.
Without looking at me, he said softly but with an unmistakable weight, "I'm hungry."
I blinked, surprised by the quiet tenderness in his voice.
"But there's nothing here to eat," I mumbled, feeling my stomach twist in frustration.
He paused for a moment, then glanced at me with a cold but gentle look that seemed to say,
I might not show it, but I care.
"I'll find something," he said simply, his tone stoic but with a hint of reassurance that somehow cut through my worries.
I hesitated for a second, then shrugging, I stepped back into the living room and collapsed onto the couch with a heavy sigh.
I felt like a total mess.
Mark looked up, voice low and curious. "What happened? Didn't you find anything?"
"Yeah, but Ethan said he'll look for something," I replied, trying to keep hope alive.
Mark smiled softly, a knowing look in his eyes. "If it's Ethan, he'll definitely find something," he said confidently.