Authors: Cat Phoenix
He
smiled full on and his eyes dipped down to my chest and back, taking the time
to scan my long, black waves. He cocked his head to the side and said
playfully, "Damn that Mike."
Hook,
line, and sinker.
He
handed me a five dollar bill and I skipped to the cash register and back. He
took a swig of his beer, keeping his eyes on me. I smirked at him and ran a
hand through my hair that had obviously caught his interest. I twirled some
around my fingers near my chest and glanced down the bar at '
Mike
.' I
leaned my torso back down on the bar and took my eyes off of my mark so that he
could get a good look at whatever he wanted to without me noticing.
I
wanted to gag at how obvious I was being. If I were really flirting with
someone, I'd be so much more discreet than this. I was not a hair-flipping
kind of girl. Hell, I wasn't really a flirt to begin with. If I was
interested and wanted to show it, I'd usually verbally tussle with him and if
he kept up, he might get my number.
"We
call him Butter Fingers," I said, giving a small chuckle and looking back
to the Suit. His eyes were on my lips but they flicked back to my eyes when I
focused on him again. "What about you? You gotta nickname?"
"No.
People just call me by my name."
"And
that would be?" I asked, straightening up and wiping a bar towel down the
counter in front of him but keeping my eyes glued to his.
"Dave."
Figures.
"Well
Dave, I go on break in a few minutes. There's an ATM over there in the
corner."
He
glanced behind him and then back at me. I winked at him and then moved to
another customer a few feet away. I watched him in my peripheral vision. He
took a long pull at his beer, draining it and then swept through the room
toward the ATM. I smiled in victory. It'd be cake from here.
He
came back to the bar and I moved down toward him.
"Another
beer?" I asked.
He
nodded and we exchanged money. I made a show of looking at my watch and smiled
at him. "Break time."
He
smiled back and jerked his head to the seat beside him, urging me to join him
on the other side of the bar. I nodded and held up a finger. "Just a
sec."
I
walked back through the employee exit hallway, snagging my jacket from the
floor. I made my way to him and put my hand on his back, sliding it from
midway up to his shoulder, pressing hard enough so I knew he felt it.
"I
need to use the restroom and then I'll be right back." He nodded and I
leaned a little closer, slipping my hand into his inner jacket pocket and
lowering my voice. "Save me a seat."
His
eyes darkened and I twirled away from him, swaying my hips suggestively on the
way to the bathroom. I got lost in the crowd and glanced back to make sure he
wasn't looking at me anymore. I changed directions and headed straight for the
back exit. I got outside and found my crew loitering near the front window to
the bar. They definitely saw the show. I was kind of embarrassed, but I
didn't let it show.
I
tossed the wallet to Ethan and shrugged my coat back on, putting my hands in my
pockets. His eyes were sharp on mine as he caught it.
"Count
it."
He
broke eye contact to open the wallet and leaf through the bills. "Two
hundred and six," he said dejectedly.
"Whoa,
go Alex," Ollie said.
Spencer
and August clapped and I made a face like I was trying to remember what we had
for supper the night before.
"What's
that called?" I asked innocently.
Ethan
stared at me with a heavy, resigned expression on his face.
"Spence,
do you know what that's called?" I didn't give him a chance to answer
before looking back at Ethan. "Damn, what was the phrase? I think it's
something like . . .
winning
? Yeah, I think that's it. It's called:
Alex,
for the win
."
A
muscle popped in his cheek, a sure sign that he was pissed. I knew I was being
a smug winner, but I couldn't resist sticking it to him after he had baited me
earlier. And anyway, it wouldn't sting so bad if we were friends. He would
know that I didn't normally brag and was only doing it for a joke. He would
laugh it off and then buy me a drink.
But
that wasn't the way we worked.
To
his credit, he didn't say anything back. He simply put the money back in the
wallet and handed it to me. I glanced at the others and smiled in victory.
Ollie's eyes were flicking back and forth between Ethan and me, and he shook
his head in resignation. That, of course, sullied my triumph, so I took a deep
breath and took the high road. Or, not as low road.
For Oliver.
I
flicked the wallet back into Ethan's hands and said lightly, "I'm just
fucking with you."
He
jerked his gaze back to mine and Brooks swatted my shoulder.
"Language,
Alex."
"Sorry,"
I told Brooks. I hesitated, then looked back to Ethan and said in a lower,
genuinely apologetic tone, "I'm sorry."
I
held his eyes meaningfully for a few seconds and he blinked at me in silent
shock. I turned away before he could respond further.
Was that so hard to do?
Yeah. It was really
fucking hard to do. And that was absolutely all he was getting. I didn't even
clench my teeth when I spoke to him. I had to get credit for that, right?
I
moved to stand beside of Ollie and watched him. He didn't relax but I know he
knew what the apology had cost me, because he glanced at me and lightly jabbed
my arm with his elbow in a gesture of forgiveness. I smiled at him and looked
at my boots. I could feel Ethan staring at me, probably in bewilderment, but I
refused to meet his eyes.
Brooks
declared me the official winner and then we exchanged wallets to return them to
their rightful owners. Since Ollie technically won his money, I volunteered to
take it back. I went inside and found the dude leaning against the coffee
bar. I walked up beside of him and did a reverse pickpocket. I slipped the
money in his pocket and then wandered back outside.
We
broke down each of our scams, complete with play by play and criticisms, all
the way back to the compound. We were all in a really good mood, laughing and
talking and it really did feel like a field trip. I went back to completely
ignoring Ethan, and I made a promise to myself to try and keep a lid on my
temper around him for Ollie's sake. And for mine.
I
was the last one out of the car and into the house when we arrived back at the
compound. I had just walked through the front door when someone gripped my
upper arm lightly. I turned and froze at who I saw.
Ethan
looked at me closely and said sincerely, "I'm sorry." My heart rate
tripped over itself but the rest of my body was frozen to the spot, face masked
in disbelief. He released my arm but didn't step away. "Sorry," he
murmured again, watching my face transform into acceptance.
Aw,
fuck. The man had integrity. And wasn't that just
perfect
? He could
have taken my apology and told me to shove it up my ass, but instead he turned
around and apologized back
?
What the hell, man? And what was he
apologizing for, exactly? If I read it right, it was a blanket apology for
everything he had said or done so far.
I
glanced awkwardly at the walls around us and back to his face. He seemed to be
waiting for something, but I wasn't in the mood for an overzealous
Welcome
home, sailor
kind of response, so I nodded my head at him, turned on my
heel and left without a backward glance.
I
felt like I as in Crazy Town, and I did not want to stay overnight or visit the
gift shop.
I
practically flew to my room and locked myself inside. Almost immediately,
there was a knock at my door. I was still leaning against it, so I jumped at
the sound that was so close to my head.
I
opened it warily and saw August.
"Gwen
said dinner's ready."
"Oh.
Okay," I said.
I
shook my head to clear it of all things Ethan and walked up to the kitchen with
August. Everything was normal. We fixed our plates and drinks and sat down at
the table. Ethan didn't say anything else to me, but he didn't frown at me,
either.
"So
you won. What family activity will you choose?" Spencer asked once I'd
sat down with my food.
"I
thought about it on the way home, and I think it'd be fun to go to a
drive-in." I saw mostly blank faces stare back at me and I stilled my
movements. "You know, the movies? Drive-in movie theatre," I
clarified.
Vague
recognition sparked in their eyes and Spencer made a face. "You want to
go see a movie? We have a huge flat screen tv in the living room with awesome
surround sound. Why would you want to waste a trip to go see a movie?" he
asked incredulously.
"You've
never been to the drive-in before, have you?" I asked.
Spencer
shook his head. And then so did Ollie. Ethan didn't respond at all, but he
was paying attention. Probably waiting for me to turn around and bite his head
off for something.
"You're
missing out," I said to the others. "The drive-in shows movies,
yeah, but it's not just going to see a movie. It's an experience. In a small
town in the south, it's nothing fancy and that's what's so great about it.
There's a huge screen and you have to use your own car or battery powered radio
to hear the sound. You're outside under the stars, sitting in chairs or spread
out on a blanket. There's a snack bar filled with overpriced fattening foods
and sweet candy to munch on. This time of year, there'll be a breeze that will
turn into a slight chill the darker it gets. You can talk to your friends
without bothering your neighbors. The only light to see by is the moonlight.
It's
awesome
."
Spencer's
interest peaked at the fattening foods comment. Ollie looked game for
anything, like usual.
August
smiled and said, "I went once before I came here. I loved it."
"See?"
I asked, encouraged. "You'll all love it, I promise."
"Okay,"
Spencer said, nodding in approval. "When should we go?"
"There's
no time limit?" I asked. Oliver shook his head. "Then we'll go when
we want to see all two or three movies they're showing," I said.
"Make sure we get our money's worth. Which is another good thing about
the drive-in. It's only like, eight bucks for a car load of people instead of
ten dollars a person at a regular theatre."
Spencer
nodded his head sagely and said, "Ten fifty a person last time I went.
Shit's jacked."
I
laughed at him and agreed. "That shit is, indeed, jacked."
We
talked throughout the meal as usual, and then left for bed. Brooks stopped me
on my way out with a hand to my shoulder.
"Proud
of you," he said quietly.
I
quirked an eyebrow. "For what?"
"You
know what."
I
doubted it was because I was a good con, but because of my apologizing to
Ethan. Simply telling me he was proud affirmed that I did what I knew was the
right thing. I felt a sweet warmth saturate my chest. Pretty sure you could
call it a mix between gratitude and respect flowing between us, both giving and
receiving. He released me and left for who knows where.
I
knew right then and there that I'd made the right decision in coming here.
Brooks was the absolute shit.
I
walked up the stairs to my room and stopped at the top because Ethan was
leaning against the wall across from me. I made to sweep past him but stopped
when I heard his voice.
"Truce?"
he asked softly.
I
turned my head toward him and really looked at him. I knew we would never be
friends, but I also knew this was the right decision. So I swallowed my pride
for the second time that day.
"Truce,"
I whispered.
We
blinked at each other for a few moments, settling into the agreement. The
tension didn't magically disappear. Oh no, it was still thick as ever, but the
declaration took a sense of pressure off of us. It was nice. And then I was
gone.
I
darted to my room and didn't come out until the next day. Emotional stress
will do that to a person.
A
week later, I went up to the studio alone, like every evening at sunset. It
was getting closer to spring, so I was arriving later and later each night. I
had just bent down to roll my mat up when I heard the door swing open and bare
feet slap the wooden floorboards. Ethan swiftly walked into the room like it
was routine, but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed me. He stared at me,
eyes dipping down to my mat and then back to my face. I moved first, breaking
us out of our stunned standoff and slipping my sandals on. I managed to avoid
looking at him until I brushed right past him. His brow was slightly furrowed
and he was resolutely ignoring me while he wrapped his knuckles.
He must be looking to blow off some steam on the punching bag,
I thought
.
I was sleepy right before I left the studio, but
Ethan's appearance was unsettling enough that my mind woke up and became
restless. It took me at least an hour to fall asleep.
The
next morning doing punch combination drills in the studio, Ross was beginning
to let his impatience with me shine through.
"Alex,
you can hit harder than that. Again!"
I
did it again, again, and again but I didn't hit his hands any faster or
harder. In fact, I was getting sloppy the harder I tried. Completely fed up,
I threw a kick against the punching bag that surprisingly sent it flying a foot
or two away but I was too aggravated to really care. I wiped my eyes and
opened them to see Ethan and Spencer watching me from across the room. They
were in the middle of their own drills, and apparently stopped to watch me.
Oh that's just great,
I thought sarcastically.
There's absolutely no pressure in knowing the expert is watching me flounder.
I
was irritated just enough to consider breaking our truce out of spite.
Instead, I turned my back on them and carried on through my drills until Ross
set me free for lunch. I wasn't hungry, so I pretty much hid in my room. It
was tough, getting used to living with all these people. They were always
hanging around talking, or watching my every move, it felt like. I just needed
some time alone because I knew that if I ran into any of them right then, I'd
unfairly displace my anger onto them.
Later,
after I'd calmed down, I ventured out to the floor of classrooms in search of a
constructive distraction. I crept inside the class quietly and sat down beside
of Spencer. Murphy was teaching math, going over equations and quizzing each
of them. August and Ollie were doing all right, but Spencer seemed to be
struggling a little.
I
didn't want to say anything in front of the others in case he would be
embarrassed, so I waited until supper that evening. Ollie and August were fixing
everyone drinks, and it was just Spencer and me, with Ethan at the other end of
the table.
Ignoring
Ethan, I spoke in casual low tones to Spencer across the table. "What's
your favorite activity?"
Ethan
didn't look away from his plate but Spencer looked up at me. "Anything
active."
"Like
what? Like gymnastics?"
"Kinda.
It's called Parkour, and you basically run like you're on an obstacle course,
but it doesn't really matter where, as long as it's challenging."
"But
you do flips and stuff?" I pressed.
"Oh,
yeah," he said excitedly. I could feel his leg bouncing under the table
and I had to stifle a laugh.
"I've
always wanted to learn to do different flips." His eyes lit and I took
that and ran with it. "You teach me how to do flips and I'll help you
with your math homework."
At
that, Ethan looked at me and Spencer's smile dropped a little and he looked at
his plate. "I hate math."
"You
don't like it now, you'll probably never like it. But I can at least help you
to understand it better."
He
lifted his eyes back to my face and said, "I don't even understand why I
need to know it in the first place. It's not like I'm an academic genius, and
I'll obviously never be one. I'd rather just focus on the physical
stuff."
"Learning
shit, even stuff you don't think will come in handy, is important." He
looked unconvinced but I persevered. "Seriously, learning is like doing
drills in training but for your mind. It develops your brain, conditioning it
for higher thinking, which translates to faster cognitive response times, even
in fighting. The smart ones are the ones who survive," I said knowingly.
He
cocked a brow at that. Ollie sat down and said, "That coming from the
lady who dropped out of college?"
Dude
was not helping my case.
"Hey,
I made excellent grades in high school and that first year of college," I
said defensively. "I didn't drop out because I was lazy. I was just too
poor. I'm in the school of life now." I turned back to Spencer.
"Anyway, learning can be awesome if you have fun with it. For example,
take Newton's second law of motion: force equals mass times acceleration. You
could talk about it all day long in theory, but if you really want to remember
it or understand it, you use real life examples. If we were in the studio,
which would hurt more? A running tackle at the same speed from Ollie, or from
Ethan?"
"Ethan,"
Spencer said immediately.
"Why?"
I asked.
"Because
he's bigger."
"Exactly.
The force behind their hits would differ significantly because Ethan has more
mass than Ollie, who's all arms and legs. No offense, kid," I said.
"None
taken," he shrugged.
"You're
a visual person, Spence, and you're smart. You just have to visualize things
to understand them better. And demonstrations help."
"Though
I would advise against getting tackled by Ethan in the name of science,"
Ollie quipped.
Ethan
leveled a look at Ollie and the rest of us laughed.
"Okay
deal, you help me, I'll help you," Spencer said.
I
smiled victoriously and picked up my slice of pizza again to finish it off. I
felt Ethan's eyes on me and I waited for him to say something cutting, but he
didn't say anything. Guess the truce was still intact. Truthfully though, I
was almost walking on eggshells waiting for him to snap at me. I kind of wished
he would just get it over with.
Late
that night, as I was gathering my things after yoga, I heard approaching
footsteps outside the doorway. Ethan appeared again, and I noted that it was
almost ten o'clock, the same time he had come the night before. So maybe he
had a nighttime routine, too.
He
dropped a bag and started wrapping his hands and I wasted no time clearing
out. Just as I was about to pass him and got within touching distance of him,
I paused because he spoke, not looking away from his hands.
"You
would hit harder if you would breathe through your hits. Control your
breathing and you control your hits. Hold your breath, and your hits have no
power," he said. He finally looked at me and said, "Exhale with
every hit."
Unable
to do much else, I just stared at him. I freaking hated that he disarmed me
most days, but this was a little different. I wasn't feeling anger or
irritation right then. Mostly I was surprised and a little suspicious.
Did he just help me out?
"Um.
Thanks," I said uncertainly. I hefted my bag higher on my shoulder and
left without a backward glance.
It
took me longer to fall asleep that night, as well. This time, though, I wasn't
picking apart why Ethan was being cold toward me, but why he
wasn't
.
*****
"Good.
Again," Ross said.
I
decided to take what Ethan said at face value and not linger on it any longer.
Maybe it was simply that he wasn't a jerk
all
the time and was honoring
our truce.
I
did the punch drills with Ross, exhaling every time I extended my arm. I
noticed an actual difference, and apparently so did Ross. The more I thought
about it, though, the more I realized Ross should have taught me about
breathing in the beginning. But he dismissed it altogether, which seemed
neglectful.
We
moved on to kicks, and I was actually kind of enjoying myself now that I wasn't
openly struggling. I kept giving Ethan surreptitious glances every now and
then, but he never looked my way. I did catch him smiling outright at Spencer
once, which I'd never seen before. Ross had to snap his fingers in front of my
face to get my attention, but luckily he didn't seem to notice that it was
Ethan's pearly whites that had distracted me.
Apparently
impressed with my slight improvement, he thought it was time I learned to take
a hit, so we had a scrimmage match between us. I was left to my own devices
and had to rely on my own mind and instincts to tell me what to do with my new
fighting skills. I was feeling somewhat confident, but I also became extremely
nervous.
I'd
never been in physical a fight before in my life! Not where someone punched
back, at least.
We
circled each other, and it drew the attention of the others, which turned me
into a complete bundle of nerves. He must have felt that tough love would
motivate me more, because he didn't go easy on me. It didn't take long for my
back to hit the mat and my hands to cover my face. I managed to block his
first few jab attempts, but I was so focused on his hands that I forgot to
watch his legs. He kicked out at my leg and I went down to a knee. He didn't
hesitate to reprimand me as I climbed a bit unsteadily to my feet, exasperation
coloring his words.
I
kept my hands floating by my face defensively and he started to circle me
again. I kept up with him for a minute or two before he used a punch kick
combination that took me to the ground. I was disoriented from the punch and
the kick laid me out.
And
I was in a
wee
bit of pain. I groaned as I tapped my hand on the mat,
giving up. He rolled his eyes and started removing his gloves. I knew I
wouldn't win and I knew it would hurt, but damn, did he have to be so petulant
about it? I lay still as he told me everything I did wrong and everything I
should have done. I only just stopped myself from going on the offensive and
telling him he was a terrible teacher and that simply stating facts does not
teach technique by itself.
I
wanted to glare at him but figured that would be childish, so as he turned to
leave, I settled for saying in a low voice, "Yeah well, this is the
only
way you would ever get me flat on my back, asshole."
Spencer
and Oliver laughed out loud and Ethan made a choking noise. I flicked my gaze
to their laughing and Ethan's shocked eyes as Ross turned back around toward us
suspiciously. I shrugged my shoulders at him innocently and heaved myself into
a sitting position. He left and Spencer offered me a hand to help me to my
feet.
I
grasped it gratefully and said in irritation, "I thought Brooks said he
was good at his job."
"He's
good at knowing how to push the body physically to get you in top physical
form, but he's not that good at teaching," Ollie said.
"Yeah,
I noticed," I said.
I'd
been there weeks and was really trying to do this shit right, and it was like I
wasn't even trying. Standing there, I felt resentment and discouragement swell
inside of me so I looked at Spencer and muttered, "I'll see you guys
later."
I
briskly left the room and looked for a suitable hiding place. I slammed the
door to the gear room and sat down in the middle of it with my head in my
hands. I just had to get away for a second and I knew no one would look for me
there. I sat in the darkness for a long time, just breathing. I was
overwhelmed and having trouble handling it. And that was the trigger my brain
needed to focus on all the negative things, mostly how much I was struggling.
I was the new kid, and I constantly felt like I was falling behind or was the
odd man out. Brooks had said we always have choices, and he was right. My choices
right now were to stay and try harder or leave. I was too frustrated to feel
ashamed for leaning toward leaving.
The
door opened and a beam of light hit my hands. I looked through my fingers and
saw a flashlight floating through the darkness while the door closed and feet
shuffled toward me. The light reflected off of the floor and I saw ambient
light reflect off of Brooks' face as he sat down beside of me. I wiped a hand
over my face tiredly, waiting for him to say something.
"How
are you doing?" he asked, like we weren't sitting in the middle of a dark
room.
"I'm
fine," I said impatiently, wanting to be left alone again.
"Oh,
that's why you're moping in the dark in the gear room without so much as
glancing at the toys? How normal of you."
"Drop
it, Brooks. It's not a big deal."
"Just
because you're not throwing a tantrum doesn't mean it's not a big deal to
you." I didn't say anything and he dropped another little pearl of wisdom
on me. "You're not alone anymore, Alex. We care about you and how well
you do here."