mouth? Why can't I ever make her happy?
"Will you at least come to my match? I
have the semi-final in the morning, and then, if I win, the
final."
"I don't know, honey."
That's a no.
The disappointment tastes bitter in my
throat.
"You haven't seen me fight in years," I
say. Not since before dad died.
"And I don't want to," she
whispers.
She stands up. I turn my face away so
she won't see the hurt.
"I wish you could understand that I
just want to protect you," she says.
I can understand that. But when dad
died, he left a void. If everyone gets scared, and no one Chases,
who will protect normal humans? They don't deserve to be
slaughtered by vampires.
"Good night, dear," she
says.
I mumble a goodnight, but I stay awake
way later than I should. All the warm fuzzies from my time with
Brett, gone.
I wish my mom loved me. If
she did, she would understand why I have to fight. I can't stand by and
let innocent people be killed. It's not in me.
But she doesn't want to see the real
me.
And that's what hurts.
14 - Brett
The next morning, I do all right in the
semi-final round, beating the six-six dude I nicknamed The Hammer
after seeing the size of his fists yesterday. It takes me nearly
twenty minutes of intense fighting.
Emily kills in hers, taking out the
slender-but-quick guy in the first round with a knockout
punch.
We'll have about an hour before we face
each other in the final. We have to suffer through the finals for
the lower-colored belts first.
She joins me in the competitor area,
sits next to me on one of the wide platforms. That she sought me
out has me flying high.
"Happy birthday." I bump her gently on
the shoulder. "Looking good out there."
"Thanks. You too." She flips her braid
over her shoulder.
I take the opportunity to grab her
hand. "You came early to watch?"
Her cheeks pink and that’s answer
enough. Wow, she's adorable.
"You gonna invite me to your party?" I
ask.
"You don't want to come to my
party."
"Yes, I do."
We both watch a red-belted kid pummel
his opponent. Nice.
" I don't even wanna be at my party,"
she continues when the match is over.
"Why not?"
She hesitates. I squeeze her hand.
After clearing the air last night, she can't be afraid to tell me,
can she?
Another moment passes, and I shift on
the block where we sit, stretching one leg out across it while the
other is off the side toward the floor. She follows my movement and
turns to face me, one leg bent at the knee and tucked beneath her,
while the bare toe on her other foot brushes the hem of my pant
leg.
"Too much family, too many
expectations," she finally says.
"Ah. Your mom?" I clasp both of her
hands in mine, lace our fingers together.
"Among others."
I shake her hands in mine, jog her head
upward so I can wink at her. "If you let me come, we could always
sneak away and spend the evening making out. Your house is huge
enough, I'm sure we could find a good hiding place. And if we get
caught, you can blame me."
I waggle my eyebrows and smile wickedly
at her, but all I get is a soft, "ha!" and a half a
smile.
Tough case.
"Do you not... want me to meet
them?"
I let my eyes slide away when she looks
up this time, unable to bear it if she is ashamed of me. Because of
the arthritis? Or just the newness of our relationship?
She squeezes my hands. "No, you dummy,
that's not it."
When I look back at her, she's sincere.
So then it has to be about the secrets she and Erick have between
them.
I let it go. For the moment.
I nod toward the arena floor. "I saw
this brown-belt fight yesterday. She looks pretty good. Here." I
tug her slightly closer, so she can see the match better, and so I
can slide one arm around her waist.
I'm gratified when she doesn't look
around to see who's watching, because I don't care.
The girl on the floor gets beat in the
first round but comes out swinging in the second. This could be a
longer fight.
"If I win today, will you let me come
to the party?" I ask, low in Emily's
"Will you at least come to my match? I
have the semi-final in the morning, and then, if I win, the
final."
"I don't know, honey."
That's a no.
The disappointment tastes bitter in my
throat.
"You haven't seen me fight in years," I
say. Not since before dad died.
"And I don't want to," she
whispers.
She stands up. I turn my face away so
she won't see the hurt.
"I wish you could understand that I
just want to protect you," she says.
I can understand that. But when dad
died, he left a void. If everyone gets scared, and no one Chases,
who will protect normal humans? They don't deserve to be
slaughtered by vampires.
"Good night, dear," she
says.
I mumble a goodnight, but I stay awake
way later than I should. All the warm fuzzies from my time with
Brett, gone.
I wish my mom loved me. If
she did, she would understand why I have to fight. I can't stand by and
let innocent people be killed. It's not in me.
But she doesn't want to see the real
me.
And that's what hurts.
14 - Brett
The next morning, I do all right in the
semi-final round, beating the six-six dude I nicknamed The Hammer
after seeing the size of his fists yesterday. It takes me nearly
twenty minutes of intense fighting.
Emily kills in hers, taking out the
slender-but-quick guy in the first round with a knockout
punch.
We'll have about an hour before we face
each other in the final. We have to suffer through the finals for
the lower-colored belts first.
She joins me in the competitor area,
sits next to me on one of the wide platforms. That she sought me
out has me flying high.
"Happy birthday." I bump her gently on
the shoulder. "Looking good out there."
"Thanks. You too." She flips her braid
over her shoulder.
I take the opportunity to grab her
hand. "You came early to watch?"
Her cheeks pink and that’s answer
enough. Wow, she's adorable.
"You gonna invite me to your party?" I
ask.
"You don't want to come to my
party."
"Yes, I do."
We both watch a red-belted kid pummel
his opponent. Nice.
" I don't even wanna be at my party,"
she continues when the match is over.
"Why not?"
She hesitates. I squeeze her hand.
After clearing the air last night, she can't be afraid to tell me,
can she?
Another moment passes, and I shift on
the block where we sit, stretching one leg out across it while the
other is off the side toward the floor. She follows my movement and
turns to face me, one leg bent at the knee and tucked beneath her,
while the bare toe on her other foot brushes the hem of my pant
leg.
"Too much family, too many
expectations," she finally says.
"Ah. Your mom?" I clasp both of her
hands in mine, lace our fingers together.
"Among others."
I shake her hands in mine, jog her head
upward so I can wink at her. "If you let me come, we could always
sneak away and spend the evening making out. Your house is huge
enough, I'm sure we could find a good hiding place. And if we get
caught, you can blame me."
I waggle my eyebrows and smile wickedly
at her, but all I get is a soft, "ha!" and a half a
smile.
Tough case.
"Do you not... want me to meet
them?"
I let my eyes slide away when she looks
up this time, unable to bear it if she is ashamed of me. Because of
the arthritis? Or just the newness of our relationship?
She squeezes my hands. "No, you dummy,
that's not it."
When I look back at her, she's sincere.
So then it has to be about the secrets she and Erick have between
them.
I let it go. For the moment.
I nod toward the arena floor. "I saw
this brown-belt fight yesterday. She looks pretty good. Here." I
tug her slightly closer, so she can see the match better, and so I
can slide one arm around her waist.
I'm gratified when she doesn't look
around to see who's watching, because I don't care.
The girl on the floor gets beat in the
first round but comes out swinging in the second. This could be a
longer fight.
"If I win today, will you let me come
to the party?" I ask, low in Emily's
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