If the ‘victim’ landed a good blow, we weren’t really going to feel it – hopefully. In my training class, they’d told us to find our inner thespians. Even so, when Erin nailed Ellsworth in the junk with a perfect sweep kick and he crumpled straight to the ground, I was a little worried. Eleven voices screamed, ‘RUN!’ but Erin had an inner thespian of her own. After launching herself off his chest, she turned round and kicked him twice before running to the safe zone, where she bounced around like she’d won the heavyweight championship.
Ellsworth rolled to his feet and gave me a thumbs up. Phew.
I went to the mat and waited. Gail from the Health Centre stepped out, so nervous she was shaking. At this point, some might have been tempted to tell her she didn’t have to do it. But she’d got this far. Time to prove to her that she’d learned something. Watts gave her quiet instructions, at first, encouraging her to hit harder. I went easy on her, but as she landed punches and kicks, and was cheered by her classmates, she kicked harder, hit harder, yelled no and get back louder. She was crying and smiling by the time we were done, surrounded and congratulated by the others.
For me, nothing compared to watching Jacqueline. Without direction, she executed a series of moves, and whether she landed them or not, she varied them. At one point, she appeared stuck in a front bear hug, until Erin hollered, ‘NUTSACK!’ loud enough to be heard in a neighbouring state, and Jacqueline brought her knee up, hard. Ellsworth went straight to the ground. She tore off towards the safety zone, where Erin tackled her in an enthusiastic hug. I was so proud of her – and I hoped to God she’d never have to use anything she’d just learned.
Sunday afternoon, Jacqueline and I took a final break from studying for finals. I packed coffee in thermoses and we headed to the lake. I wanted to sketch kayakers, who Jacqueline insisted were certifiably insane to be out on the lake in these temperatures. She huddled next to me on the bench, wrapped head to toe and still shivering. I wore my hoodie, but no gloves, and I’d discarded my leather jacket because I didn’t need it.
I called her a candyass for being such a cold-weather wimp, and she punched me in the shoulder. I saw it coming and could have blocked her, but I didn’t. ‘Ow, jeez – I take it back! You’re tough as nails. Total badass.’ I pulled her closer to warm her.
‘I throw a mean hammer-fist.’ Her words were almost inaudible, mumbled into my chest.
‘You do.’ I tipped her face up to mine. ‘I’m actually a little scared of you.’ My playful words were truer than she knew.
‘I don’t want you to be scared of me.’ Her words issued with small puffs of her breath, and I kissed her until her nose was warm against my cheek.
We went back to my apartment, where she reminded me of my request, weeks ago, that she leave me something to anticipate. ‘So, have you been … anticipating it?’ she asked. Our clothes were askew, but we’d got no further than a heated make-out on my sofa with Francis for a bored audience.
Had I been anticipating her hands and mouth on me? Uh … yeah.
Staring at my lip – the ring sucked fully into my mouth – a slow smile spread across her face. She kissed me before sliding from my lap to her knees, between my legs. As she unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, I was pretty sure I was dreaming. I didn’t want to move and risk waking up, but I couldn’t help lancing my fingers through her soft hair so I could both touch her and watch every single thing she did.
When she darted the tip of her tongue and ran it base to tip, I closed my eyes for just a moment, losing my mind with ecstasy. She leaned up to nibble me with her teeth, stroking me with her fingertips and then her tongue. I moaned, which was apparently the exact right response. As her warm mouth closed over me – Holy mother of God, my head fell back on the sofa and I closed my eyes again, my hands still in her hair, the heels of my palms against her cheekbones. And then, she hummed – one long, low note.
‘Fucking hell, Jacqueline,’ I gasped.
This time, she didn’t let me stop her.
She texted Wednesday afternoon: Econ final: PWNED. Whether she knew that term from video games or cat memes, I didn’t care. It was too cute. All because of me, right? I texted back. No, because of that Landon guy, she returned. I laughed out loud, earning a crooked brow from Eve, with whom I was working a double shift. Gwen and Ron had two finals each today, and neither of us had one, so we’d agreed to work practically all day, along with our manager.
‘I need somethin’ hot ’n’ sweet.’ I recognized Joseph’s voice, giving his order to Eve. He rubbed his hands together in his fingerless gloves, trying to warm them. His coat was university-issued and displayed his name. His wool cap, pulled low over his ears, sported our mascot.
She glared at him. ‘I’ll need the name of your desired drink, sir.’ Venom rolled off her. This was going to be funny. Or really painful. Either way, I couldn’t bring myself to step up and make it stop.
Joseph rarely came into the coffee shop, insisting it was all complete hype – overpriced and over-marketed.
He eyed Eve across the counter. ‘Recommendations? I’m not familiar with all the fancy-ass drinks y’all have. Like I said – I want something hot, and sweet. I’m not so sure you’re the one to give it to me, though.’
‘Really? That’s your line?’
His brows angled up and his mouth twisted. ‘Sweetheart, if you’re hopin’ for a line, you ain’t gonna get it from me. You are a far, far cry from my type.’