“Come back here, you coward,” Dove called a second before the door fell shut behind him.
Once he was in the relative silence of the hallway, he took a moment to collect himself, taking a few deep breaths. Would Park be angry that others knew about them? Gift’s lips quirked upwards. Maybe he’d punish Gift? That sounded promising.
He sighed, then made the long trek from the dorms to the gym, dealing with the oppressively hot air blowing in his face. The sun was starting to sink in the sky, painting it pink and orange, but the heat ruined it for Gift. Thailand might be hot, but it wasn’t this dry. Sometimes, Gift imagined this was what it was like when clay pots were baked in a kiln.
As the gym came into view, a jolt like electricity ran through him. He was both eager to show Aspen what he’d learned and to learn something new. For the first time, he was actually excited about weapons training.
When he reached the gym, he couldn’t help but notice the silence. There wasn’t a single other student loitering outside. Not that it was unusual. The heat often drove everyone to seek shelter indoors—everyone but the guards, but their towers were so far away, Gift could barely see them.
The leaves on the trees rattled, making a kind of ominous white noise that made Gift feel almost dizzy. Or maybe it was just that the trees even having leaves at all was strange. The Watch had somehow made a spot in the middle of the desert look like any other college campus. Park had explained how they’d used some underground research and DNA splicing to make trees that would normally perish in the heat thrive instead. It still seemed like witchcraft to Gift. But the whole place was an enigma, really. Why should the trees be any different?
He pulled his card from his pocket and swiped it across the scanner, pulling open the doors when the little light turned green. The hinges groaned like something out of a horror movie, then slammed shut behind him, the echo bouncing off the walls.
“Hello?” Gift called.
There was no answer. Gift frowned, sticking his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, humming to himself as he waited. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he made his way to the weapons cabinet, happy to see the case unlocked like always. Gift pulled the sai swords free from their cradle, brandishing them with a flourish, spinning them in his hands, then blushing.
He looked around to make sure Aspen hadn’t somehow snuck up on him, then began practicing the moves Park had taught him. He could feel how the movement had smoothed out, could feel the easy rhythm that came with the motion of his wrists. He unzipped his hoodie, leaving it open to his black t-shirt beneath.
There was one move he hadn’t been able to nail down. Pulling the swords from his belt—well, in this case, his joggers—he slipped each blade inside, letting the curved parts catch on the fabric. It was hardly official but it was good enough to just practice drawing the swords. After three tries, one pulled free smoothly, but the other kept getting caught on the fabric.
His stomach soured with every failed attempt, his newfound confidence dwindling. Maybe these swords weren’t for him. Maybe no weapon was. He could feel his mood plummet. “No,” he said out loud. “I’ve got this. Or, I will get this.”
He slid the problematic sai sword back into its spot at his hip, not worried about hurting himself with the dulled teaching blade. That was what it was for. Maybe he could ask Aspen to show him how to pull them without looking like an idiot and knocking them to the floor.
If it was Aspen who texted him.
Gift pulled his phone free and checked it. There were no more messages. He frowned, setting the one sai sword in his hand back in its cradle to attempt to text Aspen. That was when he heard the heavy door open and close.
He turned to see Aspen striding towards him.
“Sorry, I’m late, kid. Got caught up talking to Park. He wants me to show you some moves with a different weapon tonight.”
Gift frowned. “He does?”
Park hadn’t said anything to him.
Aspen grinned. “Yeah. He told me how well you were doing and I had an idea about that. I ran it by him and he thought it was a good idea.”
“What’s the weapon?”
Aspen looked giddy. “You’re going to love it. It’s almost exactly like your lightsaber.”
Gift blushed for the second time in thirty minutes. That would never get less embarrassing. “What kind of weapon is like a lightsaber?”
Aspen scoffed. “And here I thought you were aStar Warsfan.”
Gift’s brows knitted together as he watched Aspen walk back towards the door to a leather case leaning against the bleachers. Had Aspen brought that with him? Had it been there the whole time?
“I was a fan when I was twelve,” Gift said, distracted, drifting closer to Aspen. “It’s my mother who didn’t seem to notice I grew up.”
Aspen shook his head. “Mothers never do. You’ll be her baby forever.”
Gift opened his mouth to respond but ended up sucking in a sharp breath as Aspen pulled a long curved sword from his bag.
“Did you know,” Aspen said absently, turning the weapon over in his hand. “That George Lucas modeled the lightsaber after the katana sword?”
“No,” Gift said.
