They both groan, spurring me to action. I squeeze around Charlie and step one foot into the back seat. But then I remember where we’re going, and I pause to make sure I won’t be embarrassing myself in front of Karson again. I pat my pockets to check for anything I might be forgetting. Or to be sure I’m not hiding a steak. One just never knows.
Charlie taps his fingers impatiently. “You could have used your time in the entryway to make sure you had everything rather than chatting about the Bueller siblings.”
“Sorry.” My phone vibrates from within the soft pockets of my gray joggers. I pull it out to see Jewel’s name flash, and I’m instantly reminded that I agreed to take over the chalk-art book I’d made for the kids today. I’d forgotten because I’d been working on my script. “Speaking of siblings …” I step down to the asphalt and back away.
Charlie splays his hands wide. “Where are you going?”
I hold my phone up. “I have to stop by my sister’s after class, so I need to drive. Go ahead. I’ll meet you at the precinct.”
“Gemma …” Kai says in a warning tone. “You aren’t making up a story about your sister so you can go inside and change your script, are you?”
“Nope.” The sister story is true, but I kinda like the idea of running back inside to look at my writing. Just a peek. To see if Jeanie Bueller’s Nikes might be a better fit than Baby’s Keds.
I head toward my car, where I already have a copy ofSidewalk Superheroeswaiting, but as soon as the guys turn out of our parking lot, I sprint inside the house to my computer. I wore good shoes for sprinting. These shoes are going to make me so fast that they won’t even realize I’m not right behind them.
It took me longer than I expected to conclude I need to keep Baby’s shoes in my screenplay. I would have sworn it only took five minutes, but by the time I pull into the parking lot at the police station, I’m twenty-six minutes late.
If I tell my roommates I got lost on the way, will they just assume I took a wrong turn and not that I got lost in my thoughts? Doubtful. Because I only ever take wrong turns when lost in my thoughts. Which is more often than I’d like to admit.
Maybe nobody will notice. Maybe I can sneak into self-defense training without anyone realizing I haven’t been there the whole time.
The receptionist at the front desk points me toward a doorway down the hallway from our classroom. I creep over and peek through a small window in the door to see what looks like a wrestling room inside from the way it’s covered in blue mats. Everyone is just standing around, so I should be able to join in without missing a beat.
Turning the handle, I crack the door open. I hear Karson’s voice, giving instructions. I can’t see him yet. Hopefully his back is to me, and I can just mimic what everyone else does as if I know what’s going on.
“Now with your partner, assume the ground fighting stance we just demonstrated.”
So far so good. I hold my breath and step into the room on my silent rubber soles. I’m in.
But as I stand there, everyone around drops to the floor. Then they do this weird thing in pairs where one of them lies on their back while the other one straddles their waist in a kneeling position. I’m sure I’m making the most confused/horrified expression as the door thuds shut behind me and everyone’s face turns my way.
The only other person standing is Karson. He crosses his arms.
“Oh good,” Drew says from where he’s kneeling over Wolfman. “Now Karson has a partner too.”
And I’d been doing so well avoiding the idea of being partners with Karson. “Uh …”Ferris Bueller, you’renotmy hero.
Karson’s side-eye slides from me to Drew. “How about we switch—?”
Before he can finish his sentence, Wolfman bucks his hips up, knocking the police officer on his side. He rolls Drew over until he’s kneeling above, then he pretends to punch. “Hiya!”
I jump at the sound, then giggle in a way that wasn’t supposed to come out so nervous-sounding. “Is that what we’re doing?”
Karson rubs his jaw. “Yeah. Except for the hiya part. He added that on his own.”
Drew’s laugh erupts like molten hot fudge from a chocolate lava cake. “Well done, Larry. Now everyone try it.”
Karson shrugs and motions for me to take my spot on the mat in front of him.
My heart thumps louder. I am not emotionally prepared for this. So far Karson has held my hand when fingerprinting me and threatened to frisk me when the dog mistook my steak for drugs, but this seems even more intimate.
No, I tell myself. No, it’s not. It’s simply self-defense training. He could be doing this same thing with Aaron or Erin. It means nothing that I find him attractive or that his touch makes me want to shiver.
“Okay.” I take a deep breath, choosing to be completely professional. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Do you ever?”
Well, there went any mushy feelings I might have had. I turn to face him directly and smack a fist into my own palm. “As you saw with my driving last week, I’m pretty good at figuring things out.”
