𝟏𝟎 • 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐆𝐔𝐘

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Upon stepping foot outside of the back room door, all eyes are on me and whispers break out within the group of boys. Tommy hurries up from his place on the ground and leads me away from the center of the room.

"Don't worry about them, they'll back off. We've just never had a girl in the dojo before." He explains, bringing us to the back row.

"I wouldn't say I'm proud to be the first." He smiles at the joke, but little did he know I made it in all seriousness. I recall back to several years prior in the basement of our ragged Chicago apartment.

"Come on, Sammy. More power." Dad urges as I kick my invisible opponent in the stomach. The room is dimly lit in fluorescent lighting and stuffed storage bins bask in the corner, collecting dust from years prior.

"I'm trying," I whine and fall to the navy blue carpet below my feet.

"Trying is not doing." He responds gingerly, brushing my youthful golden locks from my vision.

"Teach Erik to do it, he's stronger," I suggest, but he only smiles, creating creases on the outer corners of his eyes.

"But, you, my darling, have technique no other Emmerik child has.It will show if you do instead of try, oss?" He asks as I attempt to hold the grumpy expression on my childish features, but I'm unable to.

"Oss," I respond, jumping up to begin training once again.

"You okay?" I'm snapped out of my reminiscence and yanked back into reality where the warm-ups begin with Johnny placed in the front center of the room just as he had been yesterday.

"Yeah, fine," I respond to Tommy and the next thirty minutes fade by in a blur. Occasionally, I would struggle with the technique of a move but quickly caught on if I studied Johnny's pristine form. I attempted to avoid showing I was, but I'd caught his eye a few times unintentionally throughout the process.

Seeing the boy in his natural element caused me to understand him more. You could spot the passion in his movements and hear it in the sharpness of his commands. This is his place of comfort; no wonder he's spoken so highly of by his peers and teacher, everything they said is true.

I catch myself analyzing Johnny's motions for a little longer than intended and my gaze wanders from his body to his face that's tensed in concentration. His azure-shaded eyes scan me for a moment, confused by the unfamiliar look on my face that he'd never really seen before when in contact with him.

It was an expression of pure curiosity and not of the typical annoyance or anger that he'd gotten used to seeing on me. The moment is interrupted by the abrupt suggestion of sparring in the center circle everyone gathers around once Kreese agrees.

"Brown, Robertson." He calls out and Bobby along with another boy stands, bowing to each other before getting down in their ready positions. Bobby eventually takes the other down and Dutch waves a red flag in either of his hands through the air, signaling the victory for the brunette.

"Should we spar our new student?" Kreese wonders out loud, holding his hand to his chin. "What was the last belt you achieved, Ms. Emmerik?"

"The training wasn't exactly official so I've never earned a belt, sensei," I respond, feeling embarrassed at the fact.

"Unofficial training by whom?"

"My father."

"Karate is either practiced officially or not at all." He states with squinted eyes and the need to immediately clench my jaw to keep my mouth shut pierces through me.

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