Four years of training, thousands of hours honing her technique, all of it focused into that one strike. Emily’s fist sank into Brad’s gut, just below his ribcage. He doubled over, gasping like a fish out of water.
His diaphragm spasmed, his lungs refusing to work. He tried to suck in a breath, but couldn’t. Panic flooded his eyes as he dropped to his knees.
What? How? he croaked, still not comprehending what had just happened. Emily stood over him, calm as ever. There was no strain, no sign of effort in her posture.
First rule of fighting, she said softly, never underestimate your opponent. Brad tried to rise, but his legs refused to cooperate. That punch to the solar plexus had been delivered with surgical precision, enough to incapacitate, but not to cause real harm.
You, you box? he managed to whisper. Not boxing. Emily crouched down so their eyes were level.
Mixed martial arts, four years of intensive training, Michigan State Junior Champion, 23 fights, 21 wins. Brad’s eyes widened with horror. But you know what’s the most interesting part? Emily continued.
I didn’t even use a tenth of my strength. If I had, that punch would have cracked your ribs and hit your spine. She stood and stepped back a few paces.
I moved here hoping to live a normal life. I’m tired of people being scared of me. My mom asked me to hide my skills, and I agreed.
I wanted to be just another girl. Brad finally managed to get a breath in, and slowly pushed himself to his feet, clutching his gut and staring at Emily with new eyes. But you didn’t give me that chance.
Emily’s voice turned cold. You thought I was an easy target. You were wrong.
Look, I didn’t know. Brad started. Of course you didn’t.
But now you have a choice. Emily stepped closer. Despite the difference in height, Brad felt small and exposed in front of her.
Either you keep your word, leave me alone and apologize in front of everyone, or… She shrugged lightly. Or tomorrow, I’ll show everyone what I can really do, with witnesses, on video. How do you think your football buddies will react when they see their captain flattened by a girl half his size in 30 seconds? Brad realized he was trapped.
His reputation, his status at school, everything he’d built, it all hung by a thread. All right, he rasped. All right, I’ll do it.
Smart boy. Emily picked up her jacket and started to walk away. Oh, and Brad… She turned back to look at him.
If you or your friends so much as look at me or any other student here the wrong way, I’ll know. And then our next conversation will be… Very different. She walked away, leaving Brad standing alone in the empty parking lot.
He clutched his stomach and couldn’t believe what had just happened. Half an hour ago, he’d been the king of the school. Now… The next morning, the whole school was buzzing.
Brad Thompson, the terror of freshmen, the untouchable leader of the seniors, walked up to Emily in the hallway and, loud enough for everyone to hear, apologized for what had happened in the cafeteria. I’m sorry, Emily, he said, his voice completely sincere. What I did yesterday was wrong.
I was a complete jerk. Students around them stood with their mouths hanging open. Brad Thompson, apologizing? To the new girl? Thank you, Brad, Emily said calmly.
I accept your apology. From that day on, the atmosphere at school changed completely. Brad and his friends didn’t just leave Emily alone.
They seemed to become her invisible protectors. When any of the younger kids tried to pick on someone else, a single look from Brad was enough to make them back down. But the most surprising thing happened a week later.
A group of girls approached Emily, led by Jessica Martin, one of the most popular students in school. Emily, Jessica began hesitantly, we heard… Um… there are rumors. Is it true that you really know how to fight? Why do you want to know? Emily asked.
Well, we have a problem. Some guys from another school keep harassing us after classes. The teachers can’t do anything because it’s off school grounds.
And if we tell our parents, they’ll just forbid us from going out. Emily looked closely at the girls. She could see the fear and desperation in their eyes.
Tell me more, she said softly. It turned out that a group of high school boys from Westside had been waiting for the Lincoln High girls at the bus stop every day. They never actually hurt them physically, but their harassment was getting bolder and more aggressive.
Just yesterday, one of them had tried to grab Jessica’s hand, and when she pulled away, he threatened her. Next time, you won’t be able to run. How many of them are there? Emily asked.
Five, one of the girls replied. And they’re all healthy, I suppose. They’re about 17 or 18.
And you girls… There’s four of us, usually. We go together. Emily thought for a moment.
Five against one wasn’t great odds, even for her. But the girls needed help, and the teachers and parents couldn’t really do much in this situation. All right, she said finally.
After school today, go to the bus stop as usual. I’ll be there. What are you going to do? Jessica asked, a tremor in her voice.
We’ll see what the situation calls for, Emily answered calmly. At 3.45 p.m., Emily took her position at the bus stop. She sat on the bench, pretending to read a book, but her eyes never left the area.
Jessica and her friends arrived a few minutes later, standing a little apart, exchanging nervous glances. The Westside boys showed up right on schedule. Five big teenage boys in athletic gear, with cocky faces and arrogant swagger.
Their leader, a tall blonde with a tattoo on his neck, immediately headed for the girls. Well, well, look who we have here, he said loudly. Our favorite princesses from Lincoln.
Leave us alone, Travis. Jessica tried to sound brave. Are we bothering you? He sneered.
We’re just having a little chat. He grinned. By the way, yesterday you ran off too quickly.
Didn’t even give me a chance to get to know you better. He reached out to touch Jessica’s cheek. She shrank back, but one of his friends stepped behind her, cutting off her escape.
Don’t be scared, sweetheart. I don’t bite, he said mockingly. That was when Emily stepped in.
Excuse me, she said, walking up to the group. Could you move, please? The bus will be here soon, and you’re blocking the way. Travis turned to her, his eyes narrowing as he sized her up.
And who the hell are you? I’m a student at Lincoln, and these girls are my friends. I see, he scoffed. Well, why don’t you run along? We’re having a little chat with your friends here.