Breakable (Contours of the Heart 2)

He angled his head, gaze softening. ‘You admire this girl quite a bit, don’t you?’

I gave one quick nod.

‘You put her in a bad spot here, son. If I hadn’t known you all your life … I could be making a disciplinary decision for each of you based on how the situation looks. Appearances often carry more weight than the truth – but I think you know that.’ He sighed again, laying a palm over my tightly gripped hands. ‘Well. Can I trust you to limit yourselves to appropriate tutoring interactions for the last couple weeks of the semester? I need your word.’

I nodded again, my eyes stinging. I wasn’t worthy of his forgiveness. ‘Yes. I promise. I’m sorry I let you down, Charles. And her.’

He patted my hand before gathering the papers. ‘I’ll admit I’m frequently wrong about women – but it seems to me that lying to avoid present hassle just to postpone it for later is a bad idea. Lies have a way of compounding the problem – or coming back to bite you in the nuts, as Caleb would say.’

We both chuckled. ‘I guess I agree with Caleb there.’

‘Yeah, he’s pretty smart now. Give him a year or two. Once puberty whacks him hard enough, it’ll flush half his brain cells right down the tube.’

I didn’t look at Jacqueline Monday when she entered class. I didn’t look at her, if I could help it, all during class. I didn’t look at her when Heller said, ‘Ms Wallace, please see me for just a moment after class.’

Benjamin Teague glanced over his shoulder at me, though. A moment later, leaning close to Jacqueline, his head inclined in my direction, asking a question. She shook her head, but didn’t turn round.

I continued sending her the worksheets, my emails limited to: New worksheet attached, LM. She didn’t reply; I didn’t expect her to. I didn’t watch her enter or exit class, except to note that Moore escorted her out, and followed her from the building as well. She didn’t look at me, and I couldn’t blame her.

I allowed myself a few unguarded assessments of her during class Wednesday and Friday. She paid full attention to the lectures – no fidgeting or glancing over her shoulder. Except for taking notes, her hands were still. She was like an enchanted being who’d suddenly found herself earthbound and bereft of her magical powers, when nothing could be further from the truth. She’d conjured love in the heart of a man whose soul had been frozen for years, anaesthetized by too much pain and guilt to bear.

Jacqueline and Erin went to Ellsworth’s line when it came time to practise kicks. I didn’t watch her, but I was tuned to her frequency. I could hear her voice above everyone, even when she was no louder than anyone else, yelling, ‘No!’ as she landed a knee strike or kick, or laughing with her friend.

When Watts announced a break, I couldn’t stop myself from finding her, drinking her in. She looked up and our eyes connected, and everyone else vanished. There was only Jacqueline, standing on the other side of the room, her eyes a cloudless sky and her face flushed pink from exertion. Catching sight of her in that moment was like glancing out a window and happening upon a sunset – inadvertent, breathtaking, never before and never again.

Erin took her arm and steered her out into the hall to the women’s locker room or the water fountain, and I shook myself from my stupor to help Ellsworth arrange the equipment for the next round of drills, and then we padded up.

‘Make sure you get that shit on tight,’ he reminded me. ‘Fairfield got nailed in the junk last fall after some sloppy padding up. We’re teaching these ladies not to hold back and they don’t. I don’t think he could stand for a full fifteen minutes, poor bastard. I laughed till I cried, of course.’

When called back to order, the women separated into two groups, prepared for the bear hug assault, which was just what it sounded like. Then Watts said, ‘Don, Lucas, let’s have you two switch off, mix up the attacker tactics.’

This landed Jacqueline in my line, as well as my department admin, who volunteered to help demonstrate the move – a series of possible defences against being grabbed in a full body hug. Little wonder Jacqueline looked freaked and ready to make a dash for the door. I felt no different. I would have my arms all the way round her, in front of everyone, within the next few minutes.

I explained the moves – head butt, shin scrape, instep stomp, elbow to the midsection, and the hands-down class favourite every time, the balls-grabbing-twisting-yanking lawnmower. Watts came over and used me to demonstrate. ’Reach back and grab the goods, twisting and pulling straight out like you’re startin’ a lawnmower.’

He ended with, ‘Vvvvrrroom!’ The women howled with laughter, and I bit my lip and probably reddened when Watts asked them to please dramatize that move without fully enacting it, to ensure Ellsworth and I remained capable of future fatherhood.

One by one, the six women in my line took turns facing the others while I came up behind them and grabbed all the way round, banding my arms and pinning theirs. They used whichever of the defences they wanted to use, most doing a facsimile of the lawnmower at the end, complete with sound effect. Jacqueline’s friend, Erin, performed every single defence, full throttle. I smiled, imagining her attacker on the ground begging her to run away. Her group cheered while she asked, completely serious, if she should kick him before running away.

I liked this girl.

Finally, it was Jacqueline’s turn. I knew that her nervousness was because of me, and I was determined that she not be at a disadvantage because of that. She needed to learn these moves. She needed to feel the power behind performing them. She needed faith in herself, and it was my job to give that to her.

When my arms surrounded her, she froze. Dammit. My fault, my fault, my fault.

‘Hit me, Jacqueline,’ I prompted softly. ‘Elbow.’

She obeyed.

‘Good. Foot stomp. Head butt.’ I led her quietly, and she followed. ‘Lawnmower.’ She did the move, without the sound effect employed by the others.

I released her and she stumbled towards her group, who were cheering as if she’d medalled in an Olympic event. Erin enveloped her in a protective embrace, and I decided she was the worthiest friend my girl could have.

My girl.

The front bear hug rendered me dumbstruck. Even with the padding and the audience and the objective behind the interaction, I looked into her eyes, inches away, and felt my desire for her like a kick to the gut. Luckily, my body went on autopilot to imitate a full-body frontal assault, and she did the defence moves without prompts, attuned to the voices of her group’s enthusiastically shouted directives and calls of encouragement.