I’ve got a problem with some local bullies. There was a pause on the line. Master Johnson had known Emily since she first walked into the gym as a scrawny 12-year-old desperate to protect herself from the high schoolers who’d once beaten her up.
What’s going on? Emily gave him a short rundown of the situation. When she finished, he sighed. Listen to me carefully, girl.
I know your mom wanted you to keep your skills hidden, and that’s smart. But sometimes, secrets become dangerous. What do you mean? If you keep letting them push you, they’ll only get worse.
Boys like that, only strength stops them. But remember, if you decide to act, do it smart. Not at school, not in front of witnesses, and don’t cause any real harm.
I remember your lessons. Good. And Emily, no matter what, you have the right to defend yourself.
The rest of the day, Emily spent deep in thought. By the end of classes, she’d made up her mind. She wasn’t going to take it anymore.
After school, she lingered in the library pretending to do homework. In truth, she was waiting for most of the students to leave. She needed to talk to Brad alone.
Around four in the afternoon, she stepped out of the building. The parking lot was almost deserted, with only a few teachers and upperclassmen’s cars remaining. She knew Brad usually stayed late for football practice.
Emily walked to the athletic building and peered through the window into the gym. Practice had just ended, and the players were heading to the locker rooms. She waited another half hour until she saw Brad emerge from the building alone.
His friends had already left. Brad, she called. He turned, a smirk spreading across his face when he saw her.
Well, look who’s here. Soup Girl’s back for seconds. Emily stepped closer.
They were alone in the empty parking lot. I need to talk to you. About what? Brad crossed his arms, still radiating confidence.
After all, what could this skinny girl possibly do to him? About what happened today in the cafeteria. What about it? I thought it was pretty funny. For you, maybe.
Not for me. Brad stepped forward, towering over her. At nearly six foot three, he loomed above Emily’s five foot two frame.
Listen up, little girl. I tried to be nice to you, gave you a simple choice. Pay up and live in peace.
But you wanted to play hero. Now, it’s going to be the hard way. The hard way? Tomorrow, the whole school’s going to know you’re just another loser from Detroit.
I’ll tell everyone how you sat there in your own soup, too scared to move. I’ll post pictures online. Hashtag Soup Girl.
It’ll be perfect. There was a flicker in Emily’s eyes. Something Brad noticed, but misread.
You’re scared? Too late, sweetheart. Should have thought of that before, he sneered. You know, Brad, Emily said in a calm, almost gentle voice.
I have a proposition. A proposition? You’re in no position to be offering anything. One-on-one, right here, right now.
If you win, I’ll pay you not five dollars a day, but ten. I’ll do whatever you say. Brad raised an eyebrow, surprised.
And if you win, you leave me alone, forever, and you apologize in front of the whole school for what happened today. Brad burst out laughing. Are you serious? You want to fight me? I want to end this, once and for all.
Little girl, I’ve been playing football since I was ten. My coach is a former NFL player. I can bench 300 pounds, and you… He looked her up and down with a sneer.
You look like a stiff breeze could blow you away. Then you’ve got nothing to be afraid of. Something in her tone made Brad look at her more closely.
Emily stood there perfectly calm, her arms hanging loosely at her sides, but there was a quiet confidence in her posture that he hadn’t seen before. All right, he finally said, but no rules. Anything goes.
Anything goes, she agreed. They stepped to the center of the parking lot. The asphalt was clean, no cars around.
A perfect spot for a fight. Brad stripped off his hoodie, revealing a muscular torso. Years in the gym had paid off.
Broad shoulders, a thick chest, powerful arms. He knew he looked intimidating. Emily only took off her jacket, standing in a plain T-shirt.
Next to Brad, she looked even more delicate. Last chance to back out, he offered with a smirk. Thanks, but no.
Your funeral. Brad didn’t waste time. He lunged forward, aiming to knock her down with the first punch.
His fist flew straight at her face with enough force to break her nose. What happened next shattered his entire sense of reality. Emily didn’t even try to dodge.
Instead, she shifted a half step to the side, letting the punch sail past her head. At the same time, she brought up her right forearm to deflect the blow with perfect precision. The movement was so fast, so exact, Brad didn’t have time to register it.
And then, Emily countered. Her left hand shot forward like a piston, landing squarely in his solar plexus. The blow was short, but it carried a terrifying power.