As we reach Jama’s house I see Roscoe approach the door. His fangs bared as he barks trying to protect the house. But as soon as Jama comes to the door and opens it showing Roscoe that we are harmless, he calms down.
I walk in carrying my backpack around my shoulder. Ronnie follows close behind me having her arms crossed in front of her. Ever since we left the Lodge she’s been tense. I wonder what happened at dinner but I decide to ask her later. She doesn’t seem to want to talk at the moment.
She closes the door behind her and drops her backpack on the floor walking past Jama and me making her way to the couch. I drop my bag and Jama and I watch her flop herself down on the couch lying flat on her stomach. “Jama, can we please not do the mile run today?” She mumbles half asleep. “I’ve had a rough day and can’t find the will to bring myself to even train today.”
Jama turns my way. I shrug, “I can’t blame her Jama, and you know how I feel about long distance running.” Ever since we started training with Jama, he has made us run a mile every day. Long distance running is not my specialty. If you ask me to do the 100 yard dash, I can do it every time but say running a mile, no. My body wasn’t built for running.
Jama sighs, turning from me to Ronnie. “Alright, but that just means more core work and working on your upper body.”
“Can we please just take a day off today, we’ve been working hard all week.” Ronnie groans from the couch. “I think my muscles are noodles.”
I give Ronnie a dirty look but she doesn’t see me. “Shut up Ronnie.” I hiss.
“Well it’s true!” She says sitting up snapping at me. “We haven’t had a day off yet. Our weekends are always occupied with homework and training and during the week is the same thing. Sometimes I’m shocked at how good my grades are. I can’t believe I’m still doing that well.”
I can’t argue with that. My grades have been dropping from B’s to C’s and A’s to B’s. I’m just surprised I only have two C’s but everything else is in the B range. I don’t know how I do it all. But it turns out, I do know, I just don’t want to admit it. I have no social life. I never “hang out with friends” or go to the movies or do any fun stuff like that. If someone asked me to hang out, I wouldn’t even know how to do it.
I turn my eyes to Jama who is staring off into his own world. I wave a hand in front of his face making him come back to us. “Sorry, just thinking.” He says hobbling over to the couch groaning as he sat down. I follow sitting on the end next to Ronnie’s feet.
I push her feet away from me as she tries to lay them on top of me. Although she attempts again grinning like it is a joke. “Get off me you little brat!” This time I throw her legs down making her fall off the couch pounding the ground.
“Ow!” She screams. Her eyes turns to me. Then she gets up angrily and slashes out with her finger nail claws. I dodge them though and grab her wrists squeezing them as hard as I can. “Ow, ow, owwww!” She cries out in pain then starts tries to kick me. I then release my anger and push her back on the couch.
She starts to cry holding her wrists. Her new technic. She cries and everyone blames me. It works almost on everyone, besides our cousins. “What was that for?” She yells. I just stare at her not regretting what I’ve done. “What is your problem?”
“Me, you kept putting your feet on me.”
“You could’ve just told me to please move them instead of pounding me to the ground!” She says. Her tears keep coming.
“That is enough you two.” Jama says getting up. We both stare up at him. “Now Ronnie I would like you to go into the kitchen and stay there until I come in.”
“But I-” Ronnie starts. But Jama stops her in time.
“Go, I will be in shortly.” Ronnie lowers her head making a face at me as she walks away leaving Jama and me alone in the room. I sit watching her go then turn my eyes back to Jama.
“You know that wasn’t necessary.” He says. I don’t say anything. I already know what I did was wrong, but I don’t regret it. “You know she’s not as strong as you, you know she’s not as big.”
“So, she was annoying me.” I complain. “I tried to push her legs off but she is just a little brat!”
“Do not say things like that about your sister.” Jama hisses. I curl my lip in anger. But he doesn’t make a comment. “Look, next time that happens just say please stop, and if she doesn’t then it’s my duty to punish her.”
“Then why didn’t you when she did it a second time.”
“Because I think you have that covered.” He grins. “I’m not saying that what you did was right but if you ever need to do that in battle, I won’t stop you.”
I grin slightly. “Just remember next time,” he continues as he stands up, “be the bigger person. You’re better than that. She is also your sister, don’t try and kill her.” He left it at that walking out of the room into the dining area where Ronnie waited.
I follow him silently listening from right outside of the door at their conversation.
“Ronnie, why were you trying to put your legs on Kimberley?” Jama asks.
“I was trying to stretch out.” I can tell she stopped crying. Her voice was back to normal and she is talking in her regular valley girl voice. “I had the couch first anyway.”
I roll my eyes keeping myself pinned outside making sure I wouldn’t run in and slap her.
“Why did you lash out at her when she pushed you off?”
“Because she pushed me off! It hurt and . . . I don’t know. I got angry!” She snaps. “I can’t control my anger.” She confesses.
“Yes both you and Kimberley both have a habit of that.” Jama responds. I open my mouth to say something to myself then close it realizing he is right. Ronnie and I both have a habit of doing something when we become too angry. Weather we yell at people or lash out at them. It always happens.
“Well she has it worse, at least I didn’t beat someone up at school.” I bite my tongue so hard making myself stay here instead up barging in while they talked. “I don’t know, I’m sorry.”
“Well, I don’t think you have to apologize to me.” Jama says. “Kimberley I know you there. Come in here.”
My heart stops. I tense up and slowly walk around the door frame poking my head in slightly. “Hi,” I smile embarrassingly.
“You were listening the whole time!” Ronnie barks pushing away from the table standing up.
“Chill, it’s not a secret or anything.” I say walking over to the table.
“No, but it’s not polite to ease drop on someone else’s conversation.” Ronnie states.
“Oh, like you’ve never eased dropped before.” I say taking a seat putting my elbows on the table.
She opens her mouth to protest but I grin to myself when nothing comes out. She just crosses her arms and looks at Jama. “Well, since we’re done with this-”
“Done,” I but in, “I think you owe someone an apology.” I say turning to her. Her body tenses up and her eyebrows crinkle while her lip curls up. Jama gives me a stern look and I slouch down in my seat rolling my eyes. “Fine, I’m sorry I pushed you. And hurt you.” I wait for her response.
“I’m sorry,” she mummers quietly before leaving the room without another word.
I grin turning my head back to Jama. He sighs leaning back in his chair, taking his hat off and rubbing his head in frustration. “It’s all coming back to me.” He says pinching the part in between his eyes.
“What is?” I ask confused tilting my head to one side. “What’s all coming back to you?”
“Why I don’t train children any longer. Too hard to deal with.” He then turns his head towards me, “Especially girls.”
I feel my whole body tenses up in anger. I can feel my hand grabbing the chairs arm rest. But I make my voice come out normal. “What do you mean?”
“It’s just . . . sometimes I . . . think boys are easier to train. I think they listen better and they understand what adults are trying to tell them.” I clutch the arm rest even more to try and control my anger to beat him. I keep silent knowing if I speak it will just come out as a scream.
“Then sometimes I wish I should just stuck training boys. They don’t get angry when they’re yelled at, they embrace it, understand what we’re teaching them. Girls-”
“Girls what?!” My anger explodes. I throw the chair back making a loud noise as it hits the ground. “What do we do Jama?” I wait for him to answer but he doesn’t, so I continue. “Do we all seem weak to you just because we aren’t boys? Is that how we are like to all men, weak, worthless just something to reproduce and have sex with!? Huh, just people to get in bed with?” I feel my tears streaming down my face in anger and sadness. “Is this how the world see’s girls now? Are we just people to love so boys aren’t running around kissing each other? Are we looked at as people who are supposed to agree with everything men and boys say?! Is that what you’re saying to me Jama!? Huh?!”
“Kimberley I-” I realize his face has turned to sorrow and shock at what he said, but I don’t buy into it. Instead I slam my hand down on the table and leave the room.
“Kimberley!” Jama calls. I don’t listen and walk past the living room where Ronnie is watching TV. I don’t even turn my head. I turn the corner walking upstairs into my room slamming the door shut.
I take deep breaths in and out trying to calm myself. But I can’t. I cry, I cry and my breathing becomes fast and unsteady. I soon have to sit down. I sit on my window couch putting a hand up to my forehead sobbing into it. Then I realize this is what Jama meant by crying. A boy would never do this. A boy wouldn’t cry in his room and pout over what somebody said. I growl to myself.
I then get down on the ground doing thirty push-ups instead of twenty, fifty sit ups instead of thirty and one hundred jumping jacks instead of fifty.
I feel my body twitch in exhaustion and my body starts to cramp, but this is war. A cramp wouldn’t matter. If it was between life or death and you had a cramp, work through it.
“I give up when my heart stops beating!” I say to myself as I feel a stab of pain from my cramp. I push through it though. I don’t give up, “I’m not a loser,” I tell myself desperately trying to believe it.
After about an hour and a half working out all alone in my room I stand up feeling my legs stiffen as soon as I stand. I grab hold of my bed post and straighten myself. Then I walk in my bathroom stripping off my clothes and turning on the shower. I turn around waiting for the water to heat up. I turn and look at myself in the mirror. I stand back turning to the left putting a hand on my right leg. Seeing how big it looks. Compared to the girls at my school three of their legs can fit into one of my legs.
I lean over the sink breathing heavily telling myself “I’m not fat, I’m muscular.” But I know it’s all a joke.
I look back and step into the shower. I let the hot water run over my body letting it take away all the sweat I have on myself. I breathe deeply still trying to catch my breath from the workout. The steam from the water clouds the mirror.
I stay in the shower for about a half hour before stepping out and putting a towel around me. I wipe the steam away from the mirror and open the door to let it out.
I walk out find a pink shirt with a pair of black sweatpants to put on. I check my clock, 7:30. I walk over to my TV and turn it on. I then walk back into my bathroom. I wash my face and brush my teeth then catch what I’m wearing. A pink shirt, only girls would wear this long sleeved tight shirt. I get angry again and look down at my boot. I rip out a knife and unroll my right sleeve reveling my wrist. I take the knife and dig into it making a diagonal line on my wrist. I make another one going the opposite way connecting it. I feel the tears start to burn in my eyes. It hurts but I need to finish it. I make a horizontal line crossing in the middle making a capital letter A. Then I take the knife again and do one right under it connecting the second A only by the second diagonal line I made on the first one so both are connected. I the run the new scars under cold water till the blood has rinsed off then dab them dry with some tissue.
After that I walk to my couch sitting down examining my new scars. AA, it says. I then hold up my other ones. OR. Outcasts, Revenge, Ronnie. Then I look at the other ones. AA. American Assassin. I am not just any girl, I’m an American Assassin. I sigh. I drop both my hands and watch TV till I pass out on the couch from exhaustion.