Chapter two

                                                 Chapter Two

“Kat, you all right?  I heard something crash in your room,” her dad asked, calling to her by her childhood nickname. A puzzled look crossed his face when he found her sitting on her bedroom floor, entwined in her bed sheets.

“I’m fine. Wait, I'm on the floor,” she grunted, slightly disoriented. He helped her as she struggled out of the sheets and plopped her back on the bed. He studied her a moment, then kissed her on the forehead and tapped his watch before leaving the room. She grimaced and nodded her head, acknowledging the unspoken reminder of the time. She was famous for not being the best at keeping track of time, ultimately earning her the title, "The Late Kate Thorn," from her friends.

She fell back on her pillow and watched as the cool shadows on the ceiling faded away with the coming dawn. The dreams had begun the night they arrived in Edinburgh. Some of home and others, like tonight, of people and places of which she knew nothing. The latest dream swirled through her mind as she sat up, swinging her feet to the floor to look out the window. She watched and listened as people were heading out their doors: a jogger, a dog walker, a business man on his way to work and tourists on holiday, obviously struggling to adapt to local time.

Her family had relocated to Scotland from Missouri seven weeks ago. The pain of sorting through her childhood keepsakes, packing only what she could stuff into her suitcases or hide in the moving boxes, stirred within her. More than once, she had argued that a favorite stuffed animal or old hoodie could be used as padding for breakables. Sometimes she won, other times the treasure became a memory. She took pictures of all the possessions that had to be left behind, with the hope of keeping the memories alive.

Laying back down, she clutched Mr. Hipporatomus, one of the few stuffed animals that had made the cut, and gazed at those pictures now plastered to her walls, along with her favorite movie posters. She mused at her decorating style, "Early American Homesickness."

  Her mind traveled back over the weeks before the move. Her friends, along with the help of her dad, had kidnapped her the night before they left, for a special going away party. At the house of her best friend, Jennie, they had taken photographs, exchanged addresses and prepaid international calling cards. Through laughs, hugs and tears, they had made solemn promises to stay in touch and never forget each other. Saying goodbye was hard, especially to Josh. Draping his arm around her waist or holding her hand, he wouldn't let her go the entire night. Saying goodnight had been torture. Between kisses, tears and hugs, they had promised to call each other every other day and Mug Chat every day. Promises that were quickly broken.

Her heart ached to think about it.

Her gaze landed upon one particular picture of her and Josh. She was smiling for the camera, while Josh planted a big kiss on her cheek. She closed her eyes, trying to remember everything about that night, that kiss. When she opened her eyes, a white glare was blotting out Josh's face. She shifted her position, but the glare remained. As she stood, the glare floated away from the photo and became a tiny ball of light that zig-zagged in front of the picture, as if scratching out Josh's face, before disappearing through the ceiling. She was staring up, torn between curiosity and fear, when an abrupt knock on the door caused her to jump. It was her dad again. The tiny ball of light returned as he opened the door. She motioned to the light as her dad entered the room.

“Do you see that?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he answered, eyebrows lowered in concern.

“What do you think it is?” she whispered. “I’ve never seen anything so dazzling.”

 “No?” he questioned. “Never?”

She shook her head and looked as her dad pointed to the crystal Josh had given her on the night of the party. She had hung it in her bay widow when they first arrived. The crystal was now dancing, ablaze of colors as the sun shone through the window. “Oh…I guess the sun hasn’t been out that much since we've been here,” she said sheepishly. She felt foolish, a common experience for her lately.

 Leaning on the door jamb, he smiled at her and nodded down the hall, “Breakfast?”

“Ya, I'll be there in a minute.”                                            

She grabbed her robe and shuffled down the hall to the tiny room that passed as a bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she sized herself up in the tiny mirror. Dark, almond shaped eyes stared back. She always liked her eyes, she thought they were her best feature. She was glad the dark circles from adjusting to the new time zone had finally vanished, as had her red nose from former allergies that didn't exist here. She ran a brush through her long dark hair, gingerly working out the bed head tangles and sighed. She still wasn't sure how she felt about living here, adjusting to apartment life was frustrating. Everything here was much smaller than the house they'd lived in. She threw her hair brush into its drawer, picked up her toothbrush, applied a small dab of toothpaste to it and chomped down on the handle while she put the cap back on. Still staring at herself, she brushed her teeth while she speculated that if she were here on her own, it wouldn’t be such a bad place, nice and cozy. But with three of them, it seemed a bit cramped. Nothing here seemed farther than ten steps away. The bare walls were a dingy white, "eggshell," her mom had declared, but that didn't stop her itch to throw color on them. It did have dark brown molding around the windows and doorways and a beautiful crown molding around the living room ceiling. Perhaps when the never ending trickle of moving boxes were finally delivered, unpacked and all the familiar paintings and bric-a-brac were arranged, it would seem like home. For now it was just small and annoying. Spitting in the sink, she confronted the knot in her stomach and tears followed. How could her mom do this to them? She missed home so much, it ached. She sat on the toilet seat lid and grabbed a hand full of toilet paper. She allowed herself a count of ten to feel sorry for herself, dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose. It was then that she encountered the aroma of freshly cooked waffles coming from down the hall. Dad, the food doctor, was back in the kitchen. She threw her head back and let out a cleansing breath, immediately feeling slightly better. Good old dad, he always knew what she needed. He was her rock, and he had made sure that some things remained the same.

Her father Bruce, was the laid back, stay at home dad. She loved the way he towered over her without blocking the view. His clever green eyes were framed by hip round glasses. His old, beat up Kansas City Royals cap had been a staple of his wardrobe as far back as she remembered, but he still managed to make it look cool. Back in the states he had been her companion and support group at all of her karate classes and tournaments. Mom worked a gazillion hours a week and he ran the household, including a five star menu for every meal.

She followed the scent down the hall and peeked around the wall into the tiny kitchen.

“Order up!” he called and handed her a large plate with waffles and strawberries. She squeezed into the kitchen nook and stared out the window with a sigh.

“Not quite home yet, is it?”  Her dad read her face.

“No. I still feel like an outsider. Every time I leave this apartment, I mean 'flat,' I feel so vulnerable, like everyone knows I don't belong here,” she answered.

“Yeah, me too. It's only been a month and a half, it's going to take some time,” he said.

“Seven weeks,” she responded.

“You've been counting.”  He paused and looked out the window with her. “You know we arrived too late this year but, in the summer all sorts of festivals and street parties happen right outside this window.”

She faced him. “Parties?  Like you would let me go to a party,” she snorted. “I don’t even want to go to a party. I don’t know anybody here, and I’m afraid if I get too far away, I’d never find my way back. How would that look on the evening news? ‘Young American lost in the streets of Edinburgh. Police rally search party. Story at ten or eleven,’ don’t even know what time the bloody news is on here.”

“Bloody?” he mouthed to himself. “Sounds like you’ve managed to pick up some of the more colorful, local lingo. Not words that I was hoping you’d pick up.”

Meg breezed into the kitchen looking amazing for 6:30 in the morning, not a hair out of place nor a smudge on her lipstick. She smiled at the two of them, picked up a waffle and walked out the door calling over her shoulder, “See you at dinner.”  Kate and her dad shared a skeptical look, both thinking the same thing. 'Riiiight.'

He glanced at his watch. “Wow, it’s getting late. Eat your breakfast and get dressed and I’ll walk you most of the way to school. I need to stop by the grocers.”

She ate a few more bites, then pushed her fork through the thickening syrup, drawing faces with it. She gave up finishing the last bit, rinsed her plate, left it in the sink and returned to her room. She looked at the picture of her and Josh again. This time there was no glare, even though the sun beamed through her window. She looked around the room for the ball of light that had been there before. As she searched the room her eyes fell on the alarm clock. With a shock, she realized she wasn’t just late, she was really late!  She threw on her school clothes and clamored down the hall, hopping on one foot as she struggled to put on her shoes, dragging her backpack behind her. Her dad was at the front door tapping his foot and looking at his watch. She smiled an apology and "The Late Kate Thorn" headed out the door.

The flat was in a small courtyard off an alley called a "Close," that ran up to the main road. They lived in a part of Edinburgh called Old Town, which had roads that changed names at every intersection and at several closes in between. It was very confusing the first few times she had walked home by herself. Her dad had picked this area because it was “full of enchantment,” as he put it. She agreed with him, in fact the whole city seemed to exist on a parallel plane slightly out of phase with the rest of the world. She felt as if there were other worlds on the edges of her perception that were just out of reach, like she was on the threshold of somewhere, but she couldn’t enter.

At first she thought Edinburgh to be a little creepy with the tall Gothic style buildings, black with soot, crowding the streets and obstructing the view, but she slowly began to feel comfort in their presence. These buildings had been here long before her and would continue long after she was gone. There was something oddly reassuring in that. Some buildings seemed to give off a warm welcoming feel and she took to running her hands over the walls as a sort of hello as she walked by, enjoying the warm tingling awareness she imagined running up her fingers. Others gave her a nauseous sensation and made her hair stand on end. She avoided these buildings if she could and she felt childish every time she crossed the street to do so. She couldn’t shake the perception there was something there, a presence, a wisp of something not exactly friendly.

At home her dad had walked or biked with her to school every day. He had started this when she was a little girl on her way to her first day of school and continued every year since. It was his way of staying in touch. After all of her credits and course work had been transferred, she was allowed to attend school. Starting an agonizing, two weeks late, her dad had continued this tradition, using it as an excuse to begin exploring the town after he left her at school. They talked as they walked and her father made up a game they sometimes played trying to figure out who was a native Scotsman and who was a tourist, but today there was no time for games. The “Late Kate Thorn” was walking fast trying to beat the first bell.

They neared the entrance to the little grocers her father liked, stopping just past the doors. “I'll see you after school. Do you want me to wait here so you don't get lost walking home?” he teased.

“Not necessary. I will be an hour later than usual,” she answered.

“Detention already?” he teased.

“No!”  She playfully jabbed him with her elbow then said shyly, “I joined an after school class.”

“What sort of class?”

“A defense class,” she answered.

“Defense class,” he guffawed. “As in ‘self-defense’ or as in building a wooden partition between yards?”

“I figured it would be a good way to meet people,” she said, ignoring his lame attempt at humor.

“Yes, or kill them,” he deadpanned. “Did you let them know you already knew how to defend yourself?”

“There wasn't really a spot for that on the signup sheet,” she answered.

“Oh, I can just see the top story on the news tonight, ‘Second degree black belt accidentally injures school teacher. Story at ten or…”

“Eleven,” she finished for him. She gave him a peck on the cheek and headed down the street.

The school matched the other buildings of Old Town- solid and serious, like stodgy old men. Kate thought the school looked heavy with the cobblestone courtyard and massive wooden doors that were the school's main entrance. She felt the school building was impressive even if the kids were not. Not that they were horrible, just that no matter where you are in the world, kids are basically the same. You can take away traditional school uniforms, which Kate found surprisingly convenient during her hectic mornings, but take that away and the same cliques remain: popular kids, smart kids, jocks, actors, musicians, the outsiders and the transfers. Kate fell in the transfers’ slot and hated it.

At her old school she was used to being, not exactly popular, yet not a loner either. Most of her friends had attended the same karate school she had. There it didn’t matter what age you were, five or fifty-five, everyone was treated the same. Everyone was interested in how you did at school or a karate tournament. They hung out together on the weekends, large groups of kids and parents all at one or another's house or a karate tournament or pizza joint following a tournament. She hoped that by joining the self-defense class she could recapture that camaraderie, help her make some new friends and put behind those first few awkward days of explaining in each and every class who she was.

“Hi, my name is Kate Thorn. I come from Blue Springs, Missouri in America. It’s twenty miles east of Kansas City. No, Kansas City is not in Kansas. No, I don’t know why they call it Kansas City if it’s not in Kansas. What brings me to Edinburgh? My mom was transferred here.”

“How long will you be with us?” the teachers always asked.

And there it was. The question she had asked her parents. Would they stay months, years, and the rest of her life?  Her mother had been evasive. Kate had shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. After a short pause, she was allowed to take her seat.

Kate struggled through her day. As usual it had lasted an eternity, but now it was over and the once bustling corridors were empty. She only had a few minutes to change into her sweats and find the room where the self-defense class was meeting. After a few wrong turns and locked doors she finally stumbled upon the right room. Hesitantly she entered. Looking around, she saw there were several kids leaning on folded mats along one wall and a few on the floor stretching. As she was looking for a place to put her bag, she recognized a cute dark haired boy from her math class. He caught her eye and she smiled at him. He started across the room toward her as Mr. Corkin, the self-defense instructor, entered the room.

Mr. Corkin was a tall man with red hair and a neatly trimmed but stubbly beard. He was one of the younger, better-looking and athletic teachers in the school. He looked like what she thought a modern day Scotsman should look like. Which would explain most of the girls and their giggling. Mr. Corkin ignored that and marched to the center of the room.

“Can I have everyone's attention? Gather ‘round, gather ‘round." He took in the group of students surrounding him. "Great, now has anyone here ever taken a self-defense course before?” He scanned the room at the few noncommittally raised hands. A surprised look crossed his face when he came to Kate's raised hand.  “Good, good. I see a few of you have. I'd like to go 'round the room and each of you, nice and loud, tell me your name and why you are here.” He started with the giggly group of girls Kate had seen when she entered the room.

A short girl with short punk black hair that seemed to scream 'I don't give a damn about my bad reputation,' started. “Me name is Vika and I have no experience. Me ma wanted me to join so I can protect myself, as if,” she snorted throwing her head back looking around at the group, adjusting the thick watch band around her arm, daring anyone to contradict her.

A petite, pretty girl with large, brown eyes and long flowing hair to match answered next. “Me name is Mairi. Same as Vika, me ma wanted me here,” her tiny voice sounded to Kate like a bell had been rung, the way it hung in the air after she finished talking. Mairi flipped her flowing hair over her shoulder as she smiled and turned her look on the curly haired boy behind her.

“Me name is Lanie,” the equally small girl next to Mairi offered. Kate had to squint at the girl the way the afternoon sunlight seemed to beam bright rays of light from her blonde hair and multiple piercings. Kate counted three, an eyebrow, the nose and upper lip that were visible. Lanie pushed her hair behind her ear and Kate counted four more on just one ear. She tore her attention back to what the girl was saying. “I’ve watched a few videos and know some moves to torture me little brother and hoping to learn a few more.” She finished with a little Kung Fu movie action.

After the smirks died down, he continued on through the rest of the girls who had no experience. He arrived at Kate. She took a deep breath. Here we go again.

“My name is Kate and I have some experience,” she lied.

“Kate, is that an American accent you have there?” Mr. Corkin asked.

Kate blushed and nodded. “Missouri,” she answered.

“What brings you to Edinburgh?” he asked.

“My mom has moved her career here.”

“Permanently?” he asked.

She paused trying to think of a new answer, but before one came to her, one of the boys down the line made a comment she could not hear, and others nearby burst out laughing.

She ignored the laughter and focused only on Mr. Corkin and said, “I’m not sure. A few years, I think?”

He smiled at her again and then moved on. “So much for the girls. How about you boys? Who are you and why do I want you here?”

“Me name’s Tavey and I’m here to meet girls,” the sly red headed boy said, 'girls' sounding like gulls. “I’ve some experience and am more than happy to personally work late into the night to help these lasses feel more confident.” He turned his tall, lean body from side to side raising and lowering his eyebrows. Most of the girls rolled their eyes at this, but she saw a couple give him the once over. Mr. Corkin, trying to move things along, pointed to the dark haired boy next to him.

“Gavin,” the boy from Math class spoke up. “I have no experience, but I will personally work late into the night to try an' keep Tavey in line, sir.”  His voice rumbled out of him and hit Kate somewhere deep inside. His dark eyes twinkled with mischief as he grabbed at Tavey and pulled him away from Vika to stand next to him. She was really digging the wildly colored shirt he had on and wondered who owned the number on the back? She smiled and repeated his name in her head promising herself she would use that crazy shirt as reason to start up a conversation with him.

“Thank you, Gavin,” Mr. Corkin said, “Aye, I think we might have to take you up on that.” He glanced at the girls for a moment. “Only for the first few weeks, that is.” He pointed to the next boy.

“Frazier. I have had some experience and Tavey made me come,” said the skinny boy whose head seemed to be taken over by some amazing dark curly hair.

“Duncan. I just followed my friends and the girls in and have no idea what I’m doing here,” joked a short, slightly pudgy red headed boy. “Sir,” he added hastily when he saw the stern look Mr. Corkin gave him.

“Boyd,” A deceptively deep, soft voice floated out into the room. Kate had to lean forward a little to get a look at the owner. He was standing a little behind Gavin, but he was a bit taller with broader shoulders. He had dark hair, but the way it was hanging, she couldn't see his face. “I have experience from last year’s group.”  Then she saw he had on the same crazy shirt Gavin was wearing. She definitely had to know what the deal was with the shirt?  School team?  Professional? University?

The rest of the boys had no experience. All in all there were around fifteen, more girls than boys. The majority of the hour had passed with the introductions and Kate, along with the group was eager to move on to the practical portion of the class. Mr. Corkin, on the other hand, had another idea. He put the class through some warm-up drills and stretching exercises, stressing the need to warm the body up before any sports or workouts, which brought about a mumbled response from Tavey and fits of laughter from Frazier and Duncan. 'Boys', she thought and tried, along with the rest of the girls, not to roll her eyes.

“There, that should be enough. I'd like everyone to line up. Taller to the right and then obviously, shorter to the left.” He gave them a moment while they circulated, “Your right,” he corrected when they couldn't get settled. After a few more moments he pointed to Boyd. “Count off.”  When they had finished, he asked them to hold their place. “Tavey,” he barked out. Tavey's eyes opened wide and he pointed to himself. Mr. Corkin nodded and motioned for him to join him in front of the class.

“We don't have much time left, yet I want to show you a basic move. Nothing too hard, just something to get you into the swing of things,” he announced.

Mr. Corkin instructed Tavey to face him and grab him around the neck. Tavey, being one of those boys who couldn't let an opportunity pass, threw his head back and stiffened his arms. He struggled as if he was actually, and over dramatically, choking the life out of his teacher. Calmly, almost as if it were a comedy skit, Mr. Corkin slowly clasped his arms together through Tavey’s and showed them how he shifted his weight and twisted out of Tavey’s ‘choke hold.'  Tavey flung himself to the floor, defeated. His classmates erupted in cheers. He jumped to his feet, took a bow, and returned to his place in line between Gavin and Boyd. Kate nodded and smiled.

Very basic but effective. The thought struck her this was equivalent to day one at the karate school.

“Thank you Tavey, job well done. Now, odd numbers turn to your left, shake hands with your partner. I want you to practice this until you both are confident with this move.”

Hiding behind a pair of oversized glasses and some seriously long red hair, was a girl named Kenzie. She approached Kate with her hands clasped together in front of her, staring intently at the floor. She introduced herself again, and Kate had a hard time hearing her. Kate remembered how painful it was for her during those first few days at the karate school. Actually having to touch someone she didn't know, took every ounce of her courage she had, but she found it and Kenzie would too.

Kate smiled and took hold of Kenzie's arms to get her into position. At that first touch, Kate began to have a gnawing sensation in her gut. It was very important for this girl to understand this move that she must be confident and extremely capable with all the moves they were going to learn. She didn't know why, but Kate felt responsible for her and didn't want this shy, beautiful girl to be a target for anyone.

After a few weak attempts Kate offered. “Just think of me as some big, bad dude in a bar who won’t take 'No' for an answer, then just yell at me, like they do in those martial arts movies, while you move.”  Kenzie broke into a fit of giggles. “What’s that about?” she asked.

“Dude?” Kenzie said. “That sounds so funny! And bar sounds funny too!  We call it a pub.”

Kate smiled, but her heart sank. Even though she was here in her element, she still didn't belong. She swallowed her nerves and spoke again. “Okay lass,” Kate tried out her best Scottish brogue. “I’m one big bad eeejit and I can’nae take no for an answer. What are you going to do?” She tried again, grabbing Kenzie’s shoulders.

Kenzie went through the motion but Kate didn’t release her, she wanted Kenzie to really earn this. Kenzie tried again and Kate just shook her head and smiled. This time Kenzie got angry and yelled. She twisted with such force that when she came loose from Kate’s grasp, she spun all the way around. The activity in the room ceased, and for a moment everyone stopped to look at them.

Standing with her legs splayed apart, Kenzie put her hand in the air, threw her head back and cried out a triumphant, “Yes!”

“Well,” said Mr. Corkin, “I guess we have a winner. Kate, Kenzie would you like to share with the rest of us?”

Kate and Kenzie looked at each other. “No, not really Mr. Corkin,” said Kenzie, turning red, brushing imaginary dust from her sweats.

Mr. Corkin nodded acceptance of this and turned to the class, “all right I want everybody to switch partners.”

Kate and Kenzie bowed to each other and traded smiles at their spontaneous martial arts gesture, and moved on to their next partner. Kate was now paired up with Gavin. He smiled at her and started to put his hands on her shoulders, someone grabbed her around the neck from behind. Involuntarily she grabbed, twisted and threw her attacker on the floor, keeping hold of one arm, the hand turned so the angle of wrist to arm, made it impossible for the attacker to get up. Only then did she realize her attacker was Mr. Corkin. Kate released the hold and took a step back. She stared down at him, her hand going to her mouth.

Gavin whistled and offered Mr. Corkin his hand.

“Oh Mr. Corkin, I am so sorry!” she apologized from behind her hand. Mr. Corkin, took Gavin’s hand and rose to his feet.

“I was going to use you to show the class a new move. Guess I picked the wrong person.”  He studied her face for a moment, then shifted his stance to shield her from the rest of the class. Quietly he said, “Perhaps, after class, we should talk about just how much training you've really had.” Kate, hand still over her mouth, nodded, mortified.

He looked over her shoulder and she turned around to see her father in the doorway. He must have entered the room when she wasn’t looking.

“May I help you?” said Mr. Corkin in a pleasant, but authoritative way.

“So sorry to interrupt. I was told my daughter was in here, and by the looks of it, I guess I’m in the right room,” Bruce said. Just a moment ago Kate thought she couldn't be more embarrassed, but she was wrong.

Mr. Corkin crossed the room and held out his hand.

“I’m Mr. Corkin, the Biology teacher. I also teach the Self-Defense class.” They shook hands.

“I’m Kate’s dad, Bruce Thorn. Glad to meet you,” he said, firmly returning the handshake. “Mr. Corkin, may I talk with you in the hallway for a moment?” he asked.

“Sure, we were almost done here anyway.” Turing back to the students he added, “Please continue practicing.”

After the door shut, Kate felt every eye turn to look at her. She smiled wanly, ducked her head, and walked over to where her school bag sat, wishing she could just disappear into it. She sat on one of the chairs and started to gather her things together. She heard footsteps behind her.

“Where did you learn to do that?”  She turned to see Gavin standing there. He grabbed a chair and placed it backwards in front of hers. Straddling it, he crossed his arms and leaned on the back, looking at her.

“At home,” she answered.

“Your da teach you?” he asked.

“No, I learned karate when we lived in Blue Springs,” she answered.

“So you learned that in karate class,” he whistled. “How long did it take you?”

“Four years,” she answered. She snatched her shoe out of her bag and started putting it on. She glanced over her shoulder hoping she wouldn't see every eye trained on her. Unfortunately, they were still staring, especially Mairi, who was glaring at her.

“Why are you here if you already know this stuff?”

She sighed and looked at him. He was taller than her, and his wide shoulders and muscular arms gave him a nice V-shape. His brown eyes stared intently at her and she imagined running her hands through his wavy brown hair. She looked away staring at the door her father retreated behind.

“Have you ever been the new kid in class?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes, we moved here five years ago from Inverness,” he said. She had no idea where that was, but he made it sound as if it had been a big change for him.

“Now magnify that times ten, and put yourself in a different country where they speak the same language, but you have no idea what they are saying. That’s why I’m here,” she said.

He cocked his head and looked at her quizzically.

“Friends,” she said quietly, “I have no friends and I’m not going to make any just going to and from school. I was hoping to make a few here, but instead it just looks like I made a freak show out of myself.”  She nodded towards the rest of the group that was gaping at her from across the room.

Gavin turned to look and turned back. “Yeah don’t worry aboot them. You’ll find the Scottish are more curious than judgmental.”

She finished putting on her shoes, stood and picked up her backpack. He stood with her. As she walked towards the door, he grabbed her arm and then just as quickly released it and held both his hands up in the universal, 'Don't shoot me' move.

“After school, some of us always head out for tea.”  He registered her confused look then added. “Something to eat and drink. You could come with us. We don’t bite. Well, maybe Tavey. But he doesn’t break the skin,” he added, smiling.

She looked over his shoulder as her father and Mr. Corkin entered the room. Her father gestured to his watch and then motioned for her to come. Why on Earth was he here?  He was supposed to meet her at the grocers.

She started to reply, then stopped and looked at him fixing a pained expression on her face. “I’m sorry, I can’t recall your name,” she lied.

“Gavin, Gavin Ashby,” he said formally, holding out his hand to shake hers. He didn't let go.

“Gavin. I would love to come and get to know everyone better and to find out what's up with that crazy shirt you have on,” she said continuing to shake his hand, reeling in the contact, “but my dad is here. I really don't know why he is here, in the building, because he said he would meet me up the street and not embarrass me by coming in the building.”  She stopped her ramble, staring at their hands clasped together but no longer shaking. She bit her top lip and looked up at him. “Maybe tomorrow?” she said, kicking her dad mentally.

“It's good, we go every day after school,” he said. “So tomorrow?”

“Sure. I will talk to my dad and let him know.”

He looked at her sideways.

“I will,” she assured, and he nodded and released her hand.

As she walked towards the door, Mr. Corkin stopped her and in a low voice asked, “First degree Black Belt?”  

“Close,” she answered.

He shook his head and continued in a soft voice, “We need to talk further about this.” Then in a louder voice he said, “That’s all for today. Don’t forget we meet after school on Monday, Wednesday, and every other Friday. Not this Friday. Have a good evening.”

The noise level rose as the students broke into groups, grabbing bags and shoes, making plans for the rest of the afternoon. Kate saw Gavin smiling and talking with a group of boys. Kenzie, with a couple of girls, was giggling next to the boys. Gavin took Kenzie's arm and whispered something to her. Kate's heart sank as she walked alone out of the classroom and joined her father in the hall.

“Hey,” she said. “Hey,” he answered.

“Mind telling me what that was all about?” she gestured to Mr. Corkin.

“Gee, hmm, I walk into a classroom and find the teacher on the floor with the breath knocked out of him and you standing over him. What could we possibly have to talk about?  Film at ten, or eleven,” he said.

“You told him I was a black belt?” she accused.

“No, I didn’t tell him you were a black belt. I told him that you have had several years training and that tournaments used to be your life. And if he was looking for someone who would love to help out, to ask you.”

“Perfect, as if I didn’t make a big enough impression on the class as it is. Now you have me teaching it,” she sighed.

They walked in silence down the hall toward the exit.

“Kate!  Wait!” the call echoed from behind.

They turned and saw the girl with long red hair jogging toward them.

“Kate,” Kenzie panted, “do you want to come with us for tea?” she asked.

Kate's heart sank again, “Oh gosh Kenzie, I already told Gavin that I was busy tonight.”

“I know, he told me. But he din’t want you to think he was inviting you to hang out with a bunch of boys. He wanted you, and yer father, to know that it's also a bunch of girls.”  She smiled.

“Who is this Gavin fellow?” her father asked, craning his neck back down the hall towards the group of kids gathered there.

“He is the boy I was talking to when you came back in the room with Mr. Corkin,” she answered.

“Ah, the curly haired boy, your next victim,” he teased.

“Dad!”

“I’m sorry, Kenzie?”  Kenzie nodded. “Kate and I have a curly haired boy of our own to bring home,” he said.

Kate’s head snapped around to look at her father. “He's coming home tonight?” she squeaked.

“Why do you think I would dare embarrass you by coming into the school to get you?” he said. “It's Bastille Day!”

Kenzie looked between Kate and her dad, obviously confused.

“Our dog, Chili, has been in quarantine since we got here,” Kate explained.

“And today he got his get out of jail free card,” her father finished.

“Awe, I think that’s a good enough reason to beg off. I’ll tell Gavin and the rest that you will join us tomorrow?” she asked and looked at Kate’s dad.

“Sure, tomorrow will be fine. I can take care of myself for one day,” he said.

“Great! See you tomorrow at school.” Kenzie waved as she skipped back toward the group collected at the far end of the hall.