“If you’re too weak to learn, then get off my mat,” he snarls.
“I’m not weak, I’m just new at this. Where the hell is your patience or any kind of empathy for any other person on this planet?” This is quickly changing from a fun idea to a mistake.
“Empathy? Rich, coming from someone like you,” he mutters to himself.
He grabs my wrists again and pulls them up into position, and I bite my tongue, trying to focus on the lesson. I want to learn. I want to know how to fight. I just have to ignore his immature bullshit.
He moves to stand behind me, and his chest presses against my back. I hate how good it feels. He wraps his arms around my waist and pushes my elbows higher, then holds my wrists to show me the move.
“You want to roll your wrist as you punch forward. Left, left, and then right.”
Moving in sequence with him is distracting in a different way. His massive body has taken control of mine, and my mind is slipping in directions I definitely don’t want it to go.
“Left, left…what the hell was that? Focus!” he snarls.
“I am focused, dammit. I made one mistake. It’s how people learn!”
He steps away from me, and I let out an angry huff. Pushing the air from my lungs, I close my eyes and pull myself together.
Artur moves in front of me with flat pads strapped to his hands for me to punch against.
“Left, left, right,” he reminds me.
As I punch, he pushes the pad forward and taps my glove.
I don’t even notice that Benedikt has left us alone.
For thirty minutes, I work through the moves, practicing over and over, reciting over and over in my head,left, left, right. Right, left, up. Left, left, right.
“Faster,” he demands.
I move faster and fumble the sequence we’re working on.
“Dammit, Maria,” he scolds me again. “I can’t teach you if you aren’t willing to learn.”
This man is impossible.
I scowl at him, the hatred in me growing as I stare daggers into him. He’s not giving me a chance at all. The anger surges over, and I can’t control it anymore.
I tug off one of the gloves by locking it under my other arm and pulling my hand free of it. I throw it at him with all my strength. It thuds against his chest and drops to the floor. He looks at it with disinterest.
“You know what, Artur.Fuck you and your fucking lessons. You are the most selfish person I’ve ever met. Go to hell!” I shout, throwing the other glove too.
“Yougo to hell, you spoiled little brat. You think the entire world revolves around you and what you want, but it doesn’t!” he shouts.
“You’re such an asshole! It’s like youwantpeople to hate you! You make it easy, because you don’t treat anyone with respect!”
“Respect? Go talk to your brother about respect!” he snarls, his face taut and his eyes dark.
I stare at him in disbelief.
Artur sneers and spins away from me, storming out of the gym in pure rage.
Fighting tears with my entire body shaking from adrenaline and anger, I walk to the bench where my towel and water bottle are waiting for me.
I pick up the water bottle and take a sip, but my hand is shaking too much.
The tears spill down my cheeks, and I feel like a fool for caring what he thinks.
