On the second floor, Peter waited outside of a small office. Suddenly, a large man with broad shoulders, and a rough face, opened the office door and looked down on him. Peter smiled nervously and gave a small wave towards the expressionless face.
"So," Peter said awkwardly, "what do I gots to do?"
"Sit," the man replied in a deep voice and pointed at a chair sitting inside of the office.
"Not really exercise, but okay!" Peter plopped himself cheerfully in the chair.
"Before you start, I'm just going to tell you that I'm not amused by your humor." He shook his bulky finger in Peter's face. "Do you understand what I'm saying to you, boy?"
Peter nodded his head. "So, what's first?"
"Only one test today."
"And what would that be? Jumping jacks?" Peter scooted closer to the man.
He pushed Peter away as he replied, "We're just going to see how many pull-ups you can do in a minute."
"Okay. It won't be the hardest thing I'll ever have to do in my life."
"Just sit there, and wait for me to come back." The large man, whose name was Carl, walked into the next room, leaving Peter alone in the office.
Peter sat in his chair. Bored, he looked around the room and saw Carl's chair. It had wheels. With a smile on his face, Peter got up and sat in Carl's chair. Using his feet, he pushed himself around the small area.He placed himself in the corner and pushed himself forward as hard as he could.
"Woo!" he exclaimed as he moved quickly across the room in the rolling chair. He opened his eyes just as he crashed the chair into the brick wall. "Ow."
Carl walked back in the room with anger painted across his face. "What are you doing?"
Peter, who was lying upside down against the wall with the chair on top of him, looked up at Carl and nervously replied, "Nothing."
"Get up, fix the chair, and come on!" Carl said with gritted teeth.
After getting up, Peter said calmly to Carl, "I think you need some counseling or something. You seem so tense and angry with the world all the time." Peter picked the chair up and placed it next to the desk.
"I don't need counseling! Why must you be such a pest?" Carl shouted as they walked through the door.
"How am I being a pest? I just said that you might need some counseling because you seem so frustrated. Or maybe, you could go to church with me sometime soon. You know, God helps people like you."
"Would you just stop talking for one second? Is that even possible for you?"
"Why does everyone say that? Elijah was just telling me outside that I talk a lot. Do you two know each other? Do you you know Elijah Telford? Oh! I was telling nurse Vivian about him. She hasn't met him before, but I could swear, when it comes to telling me to shut up, you two are like twins," Peter spoke quickly as they walked down the long hallway to the gymnasium.
Carl ignored Peter as he pushed through the gym doors. It looked like a normal gym you would see at a high school. There were some men doing push-ups in the corner, younger guys lifting weights over to the side. Some really tall men in uniforms were playing basketball on the court. Carl pointed to a door on the other side of the gym and said, "Go through that door. Someone will be waiting for you inside." Carl turned around and started walking back through the door.
"Bye, Carl! Oh, and I'll see you at church sometime soon!"
Carl quickly walked through the door.
"Hm. He must've been late for something," Peter said to himself. He cheerfully strode across the court dodging the basketball when it bounced near him. As he reached the door that Carl had pointed to, a girl, who looked about his age with long, braided, blond hair and green eyes, walked up beside him. She was wearing a tennis uniform.
"Hi there!" she said cheerfully to Peter, a tennis racquet in hand.
"Hi!" Peter replied nervously. Girls usually didn't talk to him.
"Are you doing that expedition thing? You know, my dad is doing that too," As she said that, she smiled revealing the metal braces going across her teeth. Peter nodded his head. "That's cool! My dad is doing that too. He's a mountain climber and wants to be the expedition leader. Oh! Where are my manners? My name is Katherine, but you can call me Kate! What's your name?"
"Oh. Uh," Peter paused. "my name is Peter!" He bit his tongue and flinched from pain. Kate giggled at Peter's wining.
"Nice to meet you Peter!" she smiled and stuck out her hand. They shook hands.
"Nice to meet you too, Kate. Say, how come you're here and not at school? I mean, it is Friday."
"My tennis team is playing a game today in the court out back in a few hours. We're practicing, but right now, we're on break."
"Cool!"
"So, where are you from?"
"My mom said not to tell people that," he smiled slightly.
"Oh come on! It's not like I'm going to hunt you down and murder you or something," she exclaimed playfully.
"Fine. I'm from Covington. It's down in Newton County."
"Oh, I know where that is! Our team is supposed to be going up against a team there. I think we are playing the Alcovy team. The tigers, right?"
"That's where I go! Are you going to play at my school?" Peter smiled widely. Kate nodded.
"Maybe I'll see you there?"
"Yeah!" Peter replied just as the door, which he and Kate were standing in front of, flung open just missing Peter's arm.
"Well, I'll talk to you later!" Kate jogged back over to where some other tennis players stood talking.
"Okay! Uh, bye!" Peter watched her for almost a second before turning back around to face the elderly man that had talked to him and Elijah earlier. "Hey there! Remember me?"
"Unfortunately," he replied dryly.
"By the way, my name is Peter Auchinleck." He happily held out his hand. Noticing the man's disapproving facial expression, he quickly withdrew his hand. "So," he continued awkwardly. The elderly man, whose name was Morris Buckley, watched him intensely.
"Chalk your hands, and get ready to do some pull-ups."
"I've always liked chalk. You know, when I was little, I wasn't allowed to play with the chalk because I kept trying to eat it. I mean, just because I wanted to see what it tasted like, doesn't mean I can't draw with it. Plus, I probably would've realized that it wasn't edible after one bite or even a mere lick," Peter talked a bit slower as he patted the chalk in his hands.
"Now, stand on this chair, and grab hold of this here bar." Morris had a strong southern accent.
Peter walked over and, carefully, stepped up on the chair. He looked up towards the ceiling before gripping the metal bar in his hands. Morris used his foot to slide the chair out from under Peter's feet. He fell to where his arms were straight, and his legs were bent so that he wasn't touching the floor.
Morris pulled a stop watch from his shirt pocket. "You have one minute. Go!" He hit the button on the timer.
Peter's arms shook as he slowly pulled his chin up over the bar. One. Again, he pulled himself up, but his arms didn't shake as much. Two. A few more seconds passed, and he began pulling himself up at a constant pace. Seven. By the end of the minute, when the timer was going off, Peter had done sixteen pull-ups.
"Well done," Morris said as he hit the stop button. Peter immediately let go. His feet hit the wooden floor with a thud. "You may go now," Morris continued as he pushed open the door.
With a slight smile plastered on his face, Peter gleefully walked out the door. As he walked out into the gymnasium, a tennis ball hit the wall just inches from his face. Kate ran up and caught the ball as it bounced off the wall.
"Hey, Peter! How'd the test go?"
"I did sixteen pull-ups in a minute."
"Awesome! You're almost at my pull-up record," she said sarcastically.
"And what exactly is your record?"
"Four," she giggled.
"Nice," Peter looked down at his feet. Noticing his untied shoe, he crouched down and started to tie it.
"Anyway, Peter, what're you going to do now that the test is over for the day?"
"Well, I'll probably end up waiting in the lobby until my friend, Elijah, gets tested. Then we have to wait for his mom to pick us up."
"So," Kate continued awkwardly.
"Kate, wanna go get something to drink in the food court with me?"
"Sure!" She smiled, and the two exited the gym together.
