LUCAS
Saturday morning, it had been thirty-something hours since I’d seen Jacqueline. Sergeant Ellsworth and I suited up for the final module in the locker room. The two of us weren’t supposed to arrive until halfway through the class, because we would serve only one purpose today: ‘attackers’, which necessitated emotional distance from the ‘victims’.
When we entered the room, fully padded, my eyes went to Jacqueline instantly. Along with the others, she was wearing all the protective gear. They resembled a tribe of mini sumo wrestlers. She looked up and saw me, quickly lowering her lashes and biting her lip, and I was struck with a graphic recollection of the hours we’d spent in my bed. By the looks of her shy grin, so was she.
Emotional distance. Right.
I wished, too late, that I’d outright asked Jacqueline to avoid going up against me. We could practise defences together, but this was different. As the attackers, Ellsworth and I would make audible comments. We would look for openings to attack. We wouldn’t release a ‘victim’ unless a defence blow was adequately delivered – and we’d both been trained to judge that point.
This section of the class was unnerving for me. Pretending to be a sexual predator always made me crave a scalding hot shower after.
As soon as the women finished reviewing moves with Watts, they’d be ready to do what Jacqueline told me her friend Erin termed serious junk kicking.
‘She’s only excited because she can practise doing it and not hurt you guys, because of the padding,’ she said as we dressed so I could take her back to the dorm late Thursday night.
‘Uh-huh,’ I said deadpan, and she laughed.
As she pulled on her gloves, her eyes skittering away from mine, she said, ‘Erin was the first person I told.’ Her voice was so soft. ‘I wish I’d told her sooner.’
I tipped her chin and pulled her close. ‘There’s no right or wrong way to be a survivor, Jacqueline. There’s no script.’ She swallowed and nodded, not quite convinced, yet, because of Mindi. ‘You survived, and so will she.’
I was up first. As I went to the mat, I felt Jacqueline’s eyes on me, and I prayed we wouldn’t be paired for this. Vickie was the first volunteer, and she kicked my ass in the best kind of way. I’d expected Erin might step forward first or second, but she hung back with Jacqueline, who seemed in no hurry to go at all. During Ellsworth’s turns on the mat, I watched the two of them root for their classmates, Erin screaming suggestions at the top of her lungs – ‘Head butt! LAWNMOWER! Kick him! Kick him HARDER!’ – while Jacqueline cheered and clapped.
Finally, Erin squeezed Jacqueline’s hand and stepped forward to fight Ellsworth, leaving only Jacqueline and one other, extremely timid woman who worked in the Health Centre. Ellsworth eyed Erin and mumbled, ‘If this one kicks my nuts up to my throat, you owe me, dude,’ before he stepped out. ‘I’m not so sure I trust the pads with her.’
If the ‘victim’ landed a good blow, we weren’t really going to feel it – hopefully. In my training class, they’d told us to find our inner thespians. Even so, when Erin nailed Ellsworth in the junk with a perfect sweep kick and he crumpled straight to the ground, I was a little worried. Eleven voices screamed, ‘RUN!’ but Erin had an inner thespian of her own. After launching herself off his chest, she turned round and kicked him twice before running to the safe zone, where she bounced around like she’d won the heavyweight championship.
Ellsworth rolled to his feet and gave me a thumbs up. Phew.
I went to the mat and waited. Gail from the Health Centre stepped out, so nervous she was shaking. At this point, some might have been tempted to tell her she didn’t have to do it. But she’d got this far. Time to prove to her that she’d learned something. Watts gave her quiet instructions, at first, encouraging her to hit harder. I went easy on her, but as she landed punches and kicks, and was cheered by her classmates, she kicked harder, hit harder, yelled no and get back louder. She was crying and smiling by the time we were done, surrounded and congratulated by the others.
For me, nothing compared to watching Jacqueline. Without direction, she executed a series of moves, and whether she landed them or not, she varied them. At one point, she appeared stuck in a front bear hug, until Erin hollered, ‘NUTSACK!’ loud enough to be heard in a neighbouring state, and Jacqueline brought her knee up, hard. Ellsworth went straight to the ground. She tore off towards the safety zone, where Erin tackled her in an enthusiastic hug. I was so proud of her – and I hoped to God she’d never have to use anything she’d just learned.
Sunday afternoon, Jacqueline and I took a final break from studying for finals. I packed coffee in thermoses and we headed to the lake. I wanted to sketch kayakers, who Jacqueline insisted were certifiably insane to be out on the lake in these temperatures. She huddled next to me on the bench, wrapped head to toe and still shivering. I wore my hoodie, but no gloves, and I’d discarded my leather jacket because I didn’t need it.
I called her a candyass for being such a cold-weather wimp, and she punched me in the shoulder. I saw it coming and could have blocked her, but I didn’t. ‘Ow, jeez – I take it back! You’re tough as nails. Total badass.’ I pulled her closer to warm her.
‘I throw a mean hammer-fist.’ Her words were almost inaudible, mumbled into my chest.
‘You do.’ I tipped her face up to mine. ‘I’m actually a little scared of you.’ My playful words were truer than she knew.
‘I don’t want you to be scared of me.’ Her words issued with small puffs of her breath, and I kissed her until her nose was warm against my cheek.
We went back to my apartment, where she reminded me of my request, weeks ago, that she leave me something to anticipate. ‘So, have you been … anticipating it?’ she asked. Our clothes were askew, but we’d got no further than a heated make-out on my sofa with Francis for a bored audience.
Had I been anticipating her hands and mouth on me? Uh … yeah.
Staring at my lip – the ring sucked fully into my mouth – a slow smile spread across her face. She kissed me before sliding from my lap to her knees, between my legs. As she unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, I was pretty sure I was dreaming. I didn’t want to move and risk waking up, but I couldn’t help lancing my fingers through her soft hair so I could both touch her and watch every single thing she did.