*Watty's 2021 Shortlist*
Samantha Roberts and Ben Evans have one thing in common - they both attend Sir Robertson's School for the Gifted, an elite boarding school for the children of the world's wealthiest. Both scholarship students, they gravitate...
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Training with Anthony is like nothing I've ever done before. I feel powerful. I feel alive, really alive, for the first time in a long time.
I'm not saying that I'm good at it, because I'm not. But it feels like I could be. Like I have the chance to really work at something here, to feel confident and strong.
But first, I have to fail. A lot.
"Hands up, shoulders back," Anthony says, tapping the small of my back to demonstrate. "Keep your posture."
"Like this?" I ask, curling my hands into fists.
"Okay, not bad," he says, standing back and eyeing me critically. "Remember, when you make a fist -"
"—Keep my thumb on the outside, so I don't break it. I know," I say, curling my fingers tighter.
"Good," he said, smiling. "Okay, go."
"What—punch you?" I ask.
"Yeah," he said. "Come on, you're not going to hurt me, Samantha. Punch me."
"Fine," I say, swallowing. I settle my feet, clenching my fist at him, then swing.
It comes out pathetically weak. Anthony only smiles, catching my fist in his hand. I'm momentarily distracted by his smile and the feel of his skin on mine. There's something dream-like about these moments.
Early morning silence envelops the gym, and it feels like Anthony and I could be the only people alive. He looks unguarded here, and younger somehow, his hair still a little mussed from sleep and his eyes tired but bright. He's wearing sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and he's smiling at me in this completely open way, like I shocked it out of him. Like he wasn't expecting it.
And I think I might be falling for him. Which is crazy, because we barely know each other. It's crazy, because we shouldn't have anything in common. It's crazy because we are every cliche:
Cinderella and the prince. The popular boy and the weird girl. Opposites in every sense of the word. So why do I feel so attached?
"Again," he says, but his eyes are on mine, holding mine, and I can't look away. "Punch me again."
"This is weird."
"What?"
"You asking me to punch you. You being all...chill, with being swung at."
"I've been trained for this. I'm used to people punching me. Or trying to, anyway," he says cockily. "Don't worry, you won't hurt me."
"Ooh, he's confident," I say, and I smile, and just for a moment, I could swear his eyes go to my lips.
"I'm sure you'll be able to beat me eventually."
"Really?" I ask. I feel hopeless. I am hopeless. I'm actually really terrible at this. But Anthony looks at me like he believes.
