I let go of my wrist, the tightness in my stomach loosening. I hadn’t considered how much pressure it was to be a team leader. And Julian was leading a team that was both the youngest and the worst. I’d probably yell at us too.
“It’s cool, I’m in favor of not dying,” Patrick said lightly. Most of the team laughed, and I saw the same understanding on their faces. We weren’t in high school combat class anymore.
Julian smiled. “Gage and Hunter, team up. Clara and Edan.”
He rattled off the rest of the pairs, and asked us to spread out on the mats. Then he caught my eye, and a small smile spread across his face. Was I blushing? I was probably blushing.
I turned away to see Madison watching me like she was considering the best angle to tackle me from.
Officially. She and Julian were never officially together. Maybe I was stepping into something complicated between them.
I avoided her gaze as I took my spot across from Edan on the mat.
“This is just sparring, like you did in combat classes,” Julian called. “Pull your punches. I don’t want any broken noses today.”
I strapped on my headgear and gloves. Edan did the same. He bounced on his heels and then turned in a circle, shaking his arms out.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Warming up.”
Beside me, Patrick grunted as Priya elbowed him in the stomach.
“Whoops, sorry,” she said with a giggle.
“Are you ready?” I asked Edan.
“Yeah. You can go first.”
I planted my feet and lifted my arms. I drew back, preparing to throw my first punch. He quickly stepped to the side as I let it fly, leaning back to easily miss my fist and watch it sail past his face.
“Edan, block it, don’t run away,” Julian called with a sigh that clearly said he’d been expecting this from Edan.
“I didn’t run. I saw it coming from a mile away, so I just moved aside.” He swept his arms out dramatically to show how he’d avoided my slow swing. I flushed.
Julian’s gaze flicked across the gym, distracted by something. “Gage, why are you punching Hunter in the ear?” He walked away from us.
Edan took his spot across from me and raised his gloved hands. He jerked his head, beckoning me forward without meeting my eyes.
I swung again. He leaned to the side, avoiding it by a mile again. I threw another one right away, aiming for his side this time, and he skittered away from that one too. He was really fast. You’d have to be, in his line of work.
“You’re supposed to block,” I said, swinging again because I hoped he’d be distracted by my voice.
No luck. He ducked the punch.
“I’ll block when you actually get close to landing one,” he said.
“Julian just said that’s not what you’re supposed to do.” I swung again.
“This is”—he ducked my swing again—“how I intend to avoid”—he leaned way back out of my reach—“scrabs, so Julian”—he jumped to the left, my fist almost grazing his cheek—“can suck it.”
I lowered my arms, letting out a sigh of defeat. Around us, other members of the team grunted as their gloves connected with bodies.
“Clara, keep trying!” Julian called.
I sprang into action immediately, taking a big step forward and swinging right at Edan’s face. He blinked, clearly startled, and stumbled backward. My glove barely grazed his nose. Well, at least I sort of made contact.
“Some warning would be nice,” he said, an edge in his voice.
“You’re the one who wasn’t paying attention.”
He didn’t move back onto the mat. He was still avoiding my gaze, his eyes flicking all around the gym and to the floor. He swallowed. He was nervous, I realized with a start.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I said. It came out more exasperated than reassuring. Maybe this was why Julian had paired me with him. The guy was clearly more scared of me than I was of him.
“Why do you say that like it should be obvious?” he asked.
“Because Julian told us to pull our punches.”
“Within the first forty-eight hours we knew each other, you jumped me and threatened to ‘tackle my ass—’” He made a motion with his hands that was probably supposed to be quote marks, though the gloves hid his fingers. “So forgive me if I don’t trust you.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“Nope.”
“Guys, hold on,” Julian called, addressing the entire team. “Let’s pick up the pace here. I want to see fists flying. Watch me and Noah for a minute.” He nodded at Noah. “I’ll block.”
Noah lifted his fists. He was lightly muscular, I realized as he lifted his arms. The kind of muscular that wasn’t for show.
He launched at Julian. His fists flew through the air so fast I wasn’t sure how Julian was even blocking them. He was incredibly quick, punching and dodging as Julian attempted a few hits.
“Holy shit,” Dorsey said under his breath.
Noah ducked as Julian swung at him, and Julian lost his footing and hit the mat. I hadn’t even seen how Noah made him stumble.
“Like that,” Julian said with a grin, breathing heavily. Noah held out a hand to help him to his feet.
“Noah was put on this team to keep us all alive, wasn’t he?” Patrick asked from behind me.
“Yep,” I said. “He definitely was.”
14
After training, we were ushered to the cafeteria for a dinner of barely warm chicken and limp salad. At the back of the cafeteria, workers dressed in black ran frantically in and out of a door, carrying huge trays of food or stacks of dishes.
I sat across from Noah and Patrick, who were excitedly talking about Noah’s YouTube subscriber numbers. They were exploding, apparently. Dorsey, Hunter, and Gage were at the end of the table. To my left, Zoe and Dani laughed at something Madison said. On my right, Priya was trying to explain just how huge high school football was in Alabama to
