Fighting (9 page)

"That's
reassuring.  Nothing like pressure to perform.  That definitely makes things
easier on me," I said sarcastically.

"This
isn't supposed to be easy.  If it were, you would still be at that bookshop,
sweeping floors and dusting book covers.  You wanted to come here for the
challenge, and guess what?  It's challenging.  It's hard, especially
transitioning from being alone to never finding a moment alone.  But you wanted
this."

"Not
a surprise, then, that I'm having second thoughts."

He
shined his light on the shelves, scanning them one at a time, left to right. 
He squinted his eyes, thinking.

"You're
smart, and you're a tutor.  You're used to being on the side of the coin that
has all the answers, I know that.  And you're a good student, you always have
been.  But what I don't think you realize," he said slowly, taking time to
choose his words carefully.  "Is that it's okay if you don't know
everything.  And it's okay for you to ask for help.  That doesn't mean you're
stupid, and it doesn't make you weak."

I
said nothing, half of me wanting to make a joke out of his advice and the other
half wanting to just accept what he said and move on quickly from a freaking
heart to heart. 

It
took a minute, and he let me take that minute in silence, but eventually I
said, "Knowledge is power.  You take away my ability to outsmart someone,
you kill me.  Only this is fighting, so it's strength and skill, not wit."

"You
think you don't use your mind to beat someone in a fight, then you're not doing
it right.  Reacting and being one step ahead of an opponent is half the fight. 
Or, like a third of the fight.  Point is, it's important.  You're still using
your mind, you just talk with your fists instead of your mouth."

I
finally looked right at him.  "That was a lame metaphor."

He
smiled and shrugged his shoulders.  "I'm an old man.  I'm currently in the
used-to-be-cool-but-now-he's-lame stage of my life."

I
smiled weakly and rolled my eyes.  "You're only thirty six.  And you're
cool, Brooks.  You'll always be cool."  The smile slipped off my face and
I stared at my boots.  "You think I can do it," I said softly.

"Yes,"
he said on an exhale.  "You're here for a reason.  This is just another
obstacle in your life, but this time you have us to help you through it.  So
let us help you, Alex.  Let us see you through to the other side."

"It's
easier to offer help than to take it," I said.

"Just
another thing to work on, yeah?" he asked.

I
sighed.  "Yeah." 

He
stood up and held out a hand to help me up.

"How
symbolic," I quipped.  "Go team," I deadpanned.

"Come
on, I have something that I think will make you feel better," he said. 

And
then he led me to a room full of knives.

Whoa.

Finally, Brooks is going to teach me something instead of spouting
philosophical crap at me. 

There
was a table filled with all kinds of knives.  I took a seat and he began
teaching me about them.  How to hold one, throw it, aim it, and move my body. 
He threw a few across the room and they sunk into a target that was set up against
the wall.  And then it was my turn.

I
picked up the beginner's practice knife and held it between my thumb and
forefinger in a pinch grip like he showed me.  I felt energy trill through my
limbs in anticipation.  Standing about seven feet from my target, I threw it. 
And it spun diagonally and bounced off the target. 

I
looked at Brooks dejectedly and he smiled.  What was with this guy and his
smiles?

He
gave me another knife and told me to go through the throw in slow motion
without releasing the knife.  He corrected my throwing arm, because I was
throwing it like I'd pitch a baseball when really, I was supposed to throw it
straight out.  My elbow was cocked out instead of in.  He also brought his
hands to my shoulders and pushed forward slightly saying I needed to lean into
it to add power to my throw.  That made me think of Ethan and his advice about
exhaling, so I mentally added that and tried again.  I was right handed, so I
had a stance just like I would if I were to throw a punch, with my left leg in
the front.  I cocked my arm back and made sure to keep it aimed straight, and
exhaled as I leaned forward and whipped the knife away from me. 

And
it went in!  Hot triumph blossomed in my stomach.  I gave an
uncharacteristically girly jump and squeal, which made Brooks laugh out loud. 
After a few more experimental throws, he stayed with me and talked me through
different techniques and distance rules.  I didn't realize it until later, but
I was smiling almost the whole time we trained.

Brooks
was right.  I
loved
the knives.  After we finished, I walked back to my
room to change and shower for supper.  Letting the water cascade down my
shoulders, I thought about how much I liked being there, even though I was used
to much more alone time and I was struggling with hand to hand combat.  After
learning about the knives, I felt a much needed burst of optimism and energy. 
So much so, that after I was dry and dressed again, I left for the kitchen an
hour early. 

I
found Gwen already preparing the hamburger meat for burgers and fries.  She was
in her own little world, humming and occasionally tossing in words.  I wasn't
that surprised to hear she could carry a tune.  I'd seen her swaying her hips
to music only she heard in her head many times.  It figures that she would have
an affinity for music.

She
glanced up and smiled at me, and I smiled back right before I turned and left
for my room again.  I snagged my stereo and mp3 player from my desk and went
back to the kitchen.  She watched curiously as I plugged in the system to the
outlet in the counter and set my mp3 player on the base. 

"What
are you in the mood to listen to?" I asked her.

She
looked surprised that I was even here at all as I'm sure she was used to
working alone, so she just stared at me for a second.  And then a small smile
developed on her lips and she said, "What do you got?"

"Anything. 
Internet radio," I said.

She
smiled bigger and tapped her finger to her nose twice in a
gotcha
gesture.  "How about some Motown?"

"Definitely,"
I agreed.

The
first song to come on was
Think
by Aretha Franklin.  I washed my hands
and walked back up to her with my hands in front of my face like I was a
surgeon prepping for a heart transplant.

"Where
do you want me?" I asked.

She
looked shocked again, but in a good way. 

"You
can help me patty these out and then while I'm frying them, you can cook the
fries and slice up some tomatoes and onions."

I
nodded and set off to work.  She was humming along with the music, but as soon
as the next verse came around, she bumped her hip against mine gently and was
singing.  I always liked Gwen, but never really had a chance to talk in depth
with her before.  This was way better.

I
had a huge smile on my face as we worked together, and I turned the music up so
loud, we would have trouble hearing each other speak.  This, of course, drew
attention to us.  Spencer ducked his head in the room with an eyebrow cocked
disbelievingly.  I laughed at his expression and he walked farther inside.  He
sat on the stool in front of us and Gwen started singing to him like he was her
disrespectful man.  Always active and up for a challenge, he acted the part,
going all out with his hands over his heart like she was wounding him.  I
laughed out loud and threw a piece of lettuce at him.

I
walked away to wash my hands again as the next song came on.  She placed the
burgers in the pan and I made Spencer a glass of sweet iced tea.  He drank all
of it nearly at once, but after weeks of dining with him, I anticipated this so
I had the pitcher ready to pour him a second glass.  Done with that, I picked
up the tomatoes and start slicing them up and Ollie and August walked inside. 
He was already smiling and shaking his head at us.  Gwen was belting out lyrics
to a different upbeat song and I was arranging the slices of tomato on a
plate.  Afterward, I fixed a glass of tea for the rest of us.  They each sat at
another stool and Ollie propped his head in his hands, watching avidly. 

I
slipped the pan of fries into the oven and Gwen, hands freed now, swung an arm
around my shoulders and tilted her head against mine like we were singing a
duet.  I laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist, swaying to the music
dutifully.  Brooks and Murphy wandered in next, smiling and leaning against the
counter on their elbows.  There was no way I'd be singing, especially in front
of a crowd, but Gwen carried on like it was just me and her.  I loved that she
could just let go like that. 

I
started in on the onions and felt a vaguely familiar swelling in my chest.  It
took me a hot minute, but I remembered feeling like this before, a long time
ago with my parents.  It felt warm and comfortable, and recognizing that made
my chest tighten in a weird, pleasant but also unfamiliar way.  I paused my
knife and looked around at my people, taking them in.

Shit. 
I had people.  How did
that
happen? 

I
glanced at Brooks and saw he was watching my face with a knowing twinkle in his
eye.  Damn that man and his super annoying quirk of just
knowing
things. 
I pushed aside my revelation, waved my knife at him in a vaguely threatening
manner at him and continued cutting the onion. 

He
chuckled and moved around the counter to take Gwen's hands in his, dancing with
her.  Her entire face lit up and she let him swing her around the kitchen
gracefully.  Damn, was there anything that man couldn't do well?

I
finished with all the food I was in charge of and as soon as I wiped my hands
on a dish towel, Murphy was around the counter and dragging me toward him.  I
immediately went on the defensive. 

"No,
no, no!  I don't dance!" I cried out in a panic.

This
only served to make him laugh.  I thought he was kind, but I was so wrong.  He
laughed in the face of desperate panic! 

I
felt small hands push against my back and craned my neck around to find August
pushing me toward Murphy.  That little traitor!  Oh, she could be sure that I'd
turn the tables on her first chance I got.  How ironic that the queen of
shyness was pushing me into something I didn't want to do!

He
successfully twirled me away from him against my will and my long hair flew out
and twirled around my face, creating a breeze that I felt around my face and
neck.  He paused and then twirled me back into him.  Secretly, it felt kind of
awesome but, forever stubborn, I didn't share this.  I scowled at him
mutinously and he chuckled again.  I looked at Ollie and Spencer and they were
both watching me, egging me on.

Wasn't
I just wishing I could be more like Gwen and let go? 

"Fine,"
I snapped, disgruntled.

I
let him lead me around the room.  He seemed to pick up on the fact that I liked
the twirly bits, so he kept doing that to me until I was openly laughing,
albeit against my will.  Thankfully, the song only lasted a minute longer, so
when the song was over, I hastily returned to the counter and busied my hands
with flipping the burgers for an ecstatic Gwen before he could talk me into
another song. 

I
directed a secret smile at the burgers and looked up to find Ethan watching me
with alert eyes from across the room.  He had his back against the wall, and I
had a sneaking suspicion that he saw the whole dancing thing.  My jaw locked
and my smile deflated a little.  His face grew annoyed and I became annoyed
that he was annoyed. 

Ah,
fuck it.  I wasn't going to let his bad mood ruin mine.  I shook my head to
relax my furrowed eyebrows and returned my attention to the burgers.  Ollie
appeared at my side with an empty plate with a paper towel in it to soak up the
oil from the burgers.  I placed them all on the plate and we walked over to the
table to lay everything out.  I made a second trip to grab my drink that I left
behind and turned down the music to a lower volume. 

"Alex,
sweetheart, that was so much fun!" Gwen crowed at me.  "I don't know
what got into you, girl, but you made my night.  We'll have to do that
again!"

"Absolutely,"
I agreed. 

Ross
and Ben trickled in just in time to eat and Gwen and I drifted to the tables
and ate the meal that we prepared together.  It was freaking delicious.  The
kids were extra rambunctious, and I felt Ethan's eyes on me more than normal.

I
was still sore from when Ross beat the crap out of me earlier that morning, so
I skipped yoga that night.  I opted, instead, to help clean up our dinner mess
(which had the fortunate chain reaction of having Spence, Ollie and August
throw in helping hands, too) and then retreat to the living room area.  I
usually just went to my room after supper and jumped right into a story I was
reading and then went to practice yoga in the studio, but I was still in such a
good mood, I hung around.