My face burns and I repress a goofy grin at this inappropriate thought, glad we’ve been whispering when Landon and dimple piercing, I mean Melissa, both walk in at the same time. Great. My two favorite ghosties at Locklear. Thankfully, they park it on the other side of the gym. Hopefully they’ll both ignore me.
A moment later the instructor — a short man with deep set eyes — walks through the door. I’ve seen him around campus but didn’t realize he taught combat. Based on the taut muscles of his forearms, though, I should’ve figured it out.
He doesn’t say a word as he strides to the front, but everyone moves at once. Rafe and I follow, joining the silent line as quick as possible. The instructor paces from one end to the other, narrowing his eyes at anyone who doesn’t have their hands behind their backs, or who happens to be slouching. My muscles stand at perfect attention without any coaxing, almost like they’ve been trained to do so.
This lines up with what Theo told me about how witch mediums have shifted around based on the Xers. Maybe I took some kind of combat before I died. If I’d lost my powers that could also still make sense.
The combat instructor stops in the middle of our line. “For those of you who are new, my name is Coach Richards. In this class there will be no sensei. You can call me either Coach Richards or Coach. If I blow the whistle, you will stop what you’re doing immediately and put your complete attention on me. This is for your safety and my sanity.”
I swallow a laugh, figuring he would not appreciate it.
“Now, new ghosts don’t often understand why we train this way,” Coach Richards continues. “We’re already dead. Why would we need to fight? Anybody? New students only.”
Yasmin lifts a finger. “To defend ourselves from the Xers?”
Coach Richards nods. “Very good. Xers are highly trained and often armed with spells that enable them to attack ghosts.” He paces our line. “If you encounter them when you go to complete your unfinished business, you may face any number of magical weapons or individuals that can harm you. This can slow you down and make you vulnerable to getting trapped.”
My chest tightens. As if figuring all this out isn’t hard enough, as if the Xers aren’t terrifying enough, now we have to deal with the possibility of pain and capture. Awesome.
“You should learn more about this in your other classes. My job is to prepare you to fight if necessary. Now even though you no longer have bodies, we still work out in this class,” he claps, “jog around the room.”
Our line breaks into a halting run until it stretches out, the faster and longer legged taking the lead. Running without an actual body isn’t much different than walking, though I am way more tempted to hover instead. At the very least, I don’t have sweat glands anymore, so that’s a plus. I match Rafe’s pace and bump him with my shoulder.
He flails his arms in an extremely overdramatic fashion. “Calm down, Martin. We haven’t started the attacking part yet. It’s not kosher to start early.”
“Isn’t the idea to always be prepared? Are you saying you’re not constantly vigilant?”
“Less talking, more running,” Coach Richards says from the center of the room.
Rafe and I both snicker but cut off all communication. Better not to tick off the coach in the first five minutes of class. After a series of tortuous warm up exercises, Coach Richards calls us to the front, and gestures for Landon to assist him. Broody or not, he fills out those athletic pants very nicely. I roll my eyes internally.
Get it together, Martin. You don’t even technically have hormones anymore.
But that doesn’t stop me from feeling something. And it’s super intense. Apparently, my spirit remembers what hormones felt like, and reacts accordingly. Right now, they’re shouting at me so loud I can barely concentrate.
Coach Richards drops to the floor, slapping the mat on either side of his legs to break his fall, and Landon straddles his hips. Without prompting, he pulls an arm back for a punch, but Coach bucks his hips to knock him off balance. They flip so Landon’s on his back. Coach Richards throws a mock punch, then pops onto his feet, and backs up facing us.
“Ground defense.” He sinks onto the floor again and gestures to Landon who assumes his position on top of him. “You never want to get here. The goal is to stay on your feet as much as possible. But if this does happen, your first goal is like any other defense. Throw them off balance.”
Like before, he lifts his hips so Landon falls forward and has to catch himself on his hands. In this position he’s forced to stop the attack in order to steady himself. My muscles can remember things, but something sparks through me, almost like a contraction I would have felt when I was alive. Something in me remembers this movement. I’ve learned it at some place, in some time.
Coach shows us how to trap our opponent’s leg with a foot, then roll sideways to gain the top. “Once you’re off your back, the name of the game is full on assault.” He aims slow punches at Landon’s head. “Spread your hands to clear the knees and protect yourself from getting kicked, and always keep an eye on your surroundings as you back away. Now, partner up. Start with throwing your opponent off balance first. Landon and I will be walking around to assess your form.”
I grimace a little at the thought of Landon judging me on anything, but then turn to Rafe. That grin lifts me out of my existential crisis. He agrees to be on the floor first. Straddling his hips sends a little thrill through
