Born Wicked

XXV

The first thing he shows me is how to stand. He talks me through how to plant my feet and adjusts my legs and hips with his hands. It takes me a minute to focus on the training and not how good it feels when he touches me. Maybe more like several minutes.

"Focus," he snaps softly. I giggle.

"Sorry," I mumble.

He surprises me by pressing his chest into my back and resting his chin on my shoulder, his hands still at my waist where he was adjusting my stance. "We're attracted to each other" he says simply and when I bristle he chuckles. "No point denying it, Jayme. The way you kiss me gave you away. But this is important. This is about you defending yourself. No matter what you say, those bruises yesterday were awful," he traces a finger down the side of my neck. "So, I need you to focus, beautiful. Take a deep breath."

I do. It doesn't help. All I inhale is him. Outside, the ocean and boy. He's right though. I'm giddy and it's making me sloppy. Whether I'll admit it to him or not, Shane scares the shit out of me. Being able to physically protect myself is important. I finger the clover charm dangling from my wrist and I feel it. The resolve. The determination. The anger at being victimized.

"I'm ready," I say, my voice firm.

He steps back and tries again. We go into kicks. He has me start with my right leg and places his hand up at different heights. Low, mid, high. He barks them over and over and I kick over and over. He tells me what to do to balance myself. He shows me by doing the sidekicks himself. Low, mid, high. Low, mid, high. I go again and eventually I can feel the strength in each kick. They get harder as we go.

"You're much better," he says after about fifteen minutes. "Let's try punches. We'll start with jabs, okay?"

I nod. Again he holds his hands out as targets. Left, middle, right. Left, middle, right. Both hands. Switch. Left, middle, right. Left, middle, right. We do this until my knuckles start to get sore.

"Okay, let's stop," he laughs when I shake out my right hand and kiss my knuckles which are red.

"You did good," he's smiling. "I'll try to find gloves and pads to work with next time so we can go longer."

I nod. "That's probably a good idea." My hands hurt.

"I'll ask Coach if there are any here," he says, shrugging into his coat. "If not, I'll check out some sporting goods stores."

"I can buy them, if that's the case," I say, pulling my clothes out of my bag. The girls are all gone, so I can shower here before leaving.

He shakes his head. "No, I've got it."

I roll my eyes. "I have my own money, Ethan. I'm the one that needs the lessons, I'll pay. I'm not a charity case."

He smirks and grabs my waist, pulling me toward him. He kisses me. "You're my charity case, orphan girl. Remember?"

I shake my head and chuckle darkly. "All for my cause?"

He nods and I shove him playfully. He staggers a step. I take my chance and kick mid height. I catch him in his side and he doubles over.

"Oomph," he groans as the wind is knocked out of him.

I laugh and when he grabs for me, I shriek and run for the locker room, my clothes clutched to my chest.

"I owe you for that," I hear him call after me. My laugh echoes on the tiles of the empty locker room and reverberates through the massive gym.

"You want to get something to eat?" he asks. I've showered and changed and we're in his car headed out of the student lot.

I shake my head. "Can't," I reply. "Gran has leftovers from yesterday. If we don't eat them they'll spoil and that's a waste when there are starving children in Africa." I say, in a perfect imitation of my grandmother. "You could come for dinner though. If you want."

"Sure," he laughs. "I'd like that."

This is what normal is, isn't it? I haven't been able to read his mind since yesterday, Julian's charm must be working. We're two teenagers riding home. A boy and a girl. He's coming over for dinner and will leave at a respectable time. We'll go on dates. We'll make out. Fight. Make up. He'll kiss me and I'll get butterflies in my stomach every time. I do get butterflies in my stomach every time. We'll go to dances. Dances. I'm giddy with excitement. I'm anticipation and hope. I've never been either before now. Sitting in his car, surrounded by his warmth and intoxicating scent, I can believe it. All of it. This is worth fighting for. The chance to be normal, for once. To be free of guilt, for once. To be the All-American teenager, for once.

He reaches over and grabs my hand. His is calloused and firm, it feels like Heaven. I rub my thumb on the inside of his wrist absently, until I feel him squirm beside me. "Stop that," he says gruffly.

At first I don't understand, but when I do a beat later, I grin proudly. I feel powerful, knowing the reaction I can elicit from him. It wouldn't be fair if it was only one-sided, would it?

Gran adores him. She smiles and laughs and tells him stories –edited of course. She serves him her homemade peach pie, which he moans over, the suck up. She's happy. Which makes me happier. We spent an hour doing homework, like normal teenagers. He's studious, which he explains is because he wants to choose schools. His father wants him to go to a military college. So, if Ethan wants his freedom, he has to earn a scholarship, either academic or athletic. I understand more than he knows.

My own freedom lies beyond the walls of Salem. Beyond the walls built for me. By the Guild and their rules. By my parents and their fear.

"How about Saturday?" I ask him. He's in the foyer, about to leave.

"Saturday," he murmurs thoughtfully. "Yeah, we can do that. I want you to meet my dad. You could come early and stay for dinner."

A flutter of nerves and excitement roll through me. My first tattoo. Meeting Ethan's father. Dinner at his house. I step up onto my toes and press a kiss to his firm lips. It escalates. Quickly. He has me pinned against the door and his hands are at my waist. His kisses are so all-consuming, it takes me a moment to realize he's pulled away. Gran's standing there, in the kitchen doorway, tsk-ing loudly. Her blue eyes dance devilishly.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask, my face aflame.

He nods. "You're sure I can't give you a ride to school?"

I shake my head. "Julian will be here."

He sighs, says good night to Gran, and places a chaste kiss to my forehead before walking out the door.