Sword Play by Linda Joy Singleton

stiff,” Vin told me. “Clearly you’re out of practice.”
    “I know,” I admitted. “My school didn’t have a fencing program.”
    He looked horrified. “How totally hicksville. You poor girl.”
    “I didn’t mind. I had a lot of great friends there.”
    “So are you back for good?”
    “I’m working on her,” Mr. Landreth put in, coming beside us. He rubbed at his goatee and grinned at me. “How about it, Sabine? If you won’t take lessons, how about a job?”
    “What kind of job?”
    “As my assistant. In exchange for private lessons.”
    “You never offered me a job,” Vin griped.
    “That’s because you have no patience with beginners. A few wanted to quit after your insults.”
    “Insults are character building. I’m giving them a bonus lesson.”
    “You’re incorrigible,” Mr. Landreth murmured. Then he turned back to me. “Seriously, Sabine. You were great with my class. I teach beginners three nights a week and Saturday afternoons. Pick which days work best for you. Do you want the job?”
    I felt cornered, yet flattered, too. It would be wonderful to come here regularly and improve my skills. But this was happening too fast.
    “I’ll have to think about it,” I said.
    “Think yes,” my teacher persisted.
    “I’ll convince her,” Vin said with a wink. He led me over to the benches where he nagged at me to take the job the entire time we put away our equipment. Then he invited me out to lunch at Rosetti’s Pizza.
    When he said “Rosetti’s” I felt a strong shock of déjà vu. Rosetti’s not only made the best pizza, it was the place our group always hung out. We’d sit at a back table, debating about fencing techniques, and munching pizza for hours.
    I’d always sit by Brianne.
    “Come on,” Vin urged, not giving me a chance to refuse.
    So I went with him. It wasn’t until we were entering through the double wood doors of Rosetti’s that he told me we wouldn’t be alone. And when I saw three familiar faces at the back table, I started to bolt. But Vin anticipated my retreat and parried with a firm grip on my arm as he guided me toward the table.
    “I’m going to kill you,” I hissed at him. “You knew they’d be here.”
    “We hang out almost every Saturday.”
    “You set me up.”
    “A simple thank you will suffice,” he joked.
    “You are so dead.”
    “I love you, too.” He laughed and pushed me forward. For a little guy, Vin had a lot of strength. And I was totally drained of energy as I faced Alphonso, Derrick, and his sister Jennae.
    My heart thudded and I wasn’t sure what to say. When I’d left town, I’d thought I’d never see anyone from Foils again. I hadn’t heard from any of them so assumed they felt the same toward me as Brianne, and expected to be as welcome as an outbreak of zits. So I was startled when Jennae squealed my name, then flew over and smothered me in a hug. Her brother Derrick came over, too, smiling widely. Even Alphonso, who was skinny, tall and shy, offered a sincere, “Wel—Welcome back.”
    “I’m so glad to see you!” Jennae exclaimed. “Sabine. I’ve missed you!”
    “You have?”
    “We all have! I can’t believe you’re really here.”
    “It’s hard for me to believe too.”
    She stepped back to study me, and I was touched to see tears in her eyes. “You’re thinner and different … like older. Mature.”
    “A lot has happened,” I admitted with a hesitant smile.
    “Well, maturity suits you. You look great.”
    “Thanks … you, too.” I wasn’t just saying this out of politeness either. Jennae did look fantastic; large-boned and shapely, with creamy skin and long, straight cinnamon hair. She wore multi-strands of beaded jewelry and her own unique style of layered clothes. She was a motherly type and her big smile wrapped around me like a hug.
    “So where have you been all this time?” Derrick asked. He was a male version of his sister, only his short hair was darker, he stood a head taller and