Into the Wreckage ▸ Scott McCall (3)

xxix. POISON APPLE

xxix. POISON APPLE

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Ella Foster was given a bottle of pills and sent on her way.

And a few days later she was in Jordan Parrish's apartment, learning how to finally fight. Jordan was going light on her, but he was teaching her the basic movements. That's the thing, even though she's hurt right now doesn't mean she's exempt from the chimeras. They could attack her at any time, hurt or not. Just like Donovan did to her and Stiles.

Of course, Jordan knew that he couldn't rough her up too much considering she still had stitches and gauze atop of her wound. However, he lead her through basic self defense. When Jordan moved to lift his knee toward her stomach, Foster moved to smack it out of the way.

Her movements were timed precisely to when Jordan struck. They were fluid, her loose tank top and sweatpants giving her full mobility. She was beginning to wonder if work out clothes were about to become a necessity since it seemed she was always fighting something. And, of course, losing miserably.

Foster also couldn't help but notice how incredibly hot Jordan looked right now. She kind of wanted to smack herself for even thinking it since they were busy with something entirely else right now, but she was an eighteen year old girl. It was part of the job description. 

"Arms up," Jordan instructed, Foster backing away slightly.

Foster did exactly that, the two beginning to circle each other.

"This way you can block attacks to your face and head while always keeping your eyes on your enemy," Jordan continued, Foster nodding. She held her arms in front of her face, hands balled into small fists.

Foster bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet, readying herself for the onslaught. However, her hits would pack a little less punch since she wasn't taking strength from anyone. There was no need to because with Jordan she was safe. Entirely safe.

Foster liked Jordan. He made her hearts do little flips and his smile made her cheeks flame right up. Yes, there was history with Scott. That was never going to go away. Not now, not ever, but she needed to let him go if she wanted him to be safe. And more importantly, to be happy.

Foster was a dead weight to Scott, and the only way he could truly shine was if she let him go.

With Jordan, it was a simple crush. There were nerves, the kind you got when it was new. It was dipping her toes into the ocean, testing the waters. Being around him made her happy, and that wasn't something Foster wanted to lose just yet. Honestly, she just wanted to let things happen and see where it took them.

"Ready?" he asked, raising his fists in return.

Foster simply nodded her head.

Jordan's first hit came suddenly, and with her forearm out, Foster quickly knocked it out of the way. She stumbled back when his next one came, blocking that one just as easily. However, she wondered if it would be this easy when it wasn't Jordan she was fighting. He wasn't going to intentionally harm her.

But a chimera? Well, Donovan made that answer pretty clear.

Jordan shot his knee toward her side, and while Foster focused all of her attention on blocking that, he was able to brush his knuckles against her jaw. A slight little touch, enough to make her emit a sigh and take a step back.

Her fingers were winding through her hair, tightening her pony tail in frustration. She was blind to all of these sneak attacks. It was a miracle she wasn't dead yet given everything she's survived.