After the first ride, I didn’t think Madison and I were suddenly friends; but I was still surprised when she didn’t say anything other than hello on the way to class the next day.
She and Cookie were scowling, too. I decided to pretend I was invisible.
I adjusted the backseat air-condition vent. It was too hot to move, let alone be wearing a long-sleeved dobok. Ugh. Master Kim said wearing the uniforms was tradition. But I still wished we could wear T-shirts and shorts.
My bangs were dripping by the time Master Kim told us to pair up for drills. I tried to catch Rosa’s eye, but I didn’t move fast enough and ended up with Mark instead.
We practiced blocking punches. It didn’t go well.
Each time Mark threw a punch, I tried to knock his arm out of the way like I was supposed to. But I messed up every single time. My brain could see the punches coming. I just couldn’t get the message to my arm fast enough. I was always half a second behind.
“Here,” he said. “Let me try. Throw a punch.”
I took aim at his chest and stepped forward with a kihap.
Bam!
Mark’s forearm smashed into mine and sent my punch off course.
I tried a few more times. I even tried to fake him out once or twice. But with almost every punch, he got the block.
“You want to try again?” Mark asked.
I didn’t really want to, but I nodded anyway.
Mark threw a few punches. Slower this time. I managed to kind of block one or two of them.
Hey! Maybe I was getting the hang of this.
The fourth punch was faster, though. Mark took a long step forward and threw his fist at my chest. I saw it coming and put my left arm up to block. But I knocked it up instead of away.
Ow-za!
My hand flew to my upper lip.
“Oh. Crud! I’m sorry!” Mark said when he realized he’d hit me. “Are you okay?”
“I think so,” I told him. “Is it bleeding?”
I pulled my hand away, and he examined my face. “No. It’s just red. I’m really sorry.”
One of the black-belt helpers handed me one of those pop-and-shake ice packs. “Here. This’ll keep the swelling down.”
“I didn’t mean to hit her,” Mark said.
“It happens,” the black belt told him. “Control is a tricky thing.”
Then he turned to me. “Timing is a tricky thing, too. Don’t worry. You’ll get it.”
The black belt walked away, and Mark kept apologizing. I told him about a dozen times it was okay.
Before Master Kim dismissed class, he had us sit down in our places.
“I’d like to give some advice about blocking,” he said.
He wasn’t looking my way, but I knew the advice was meant for me. I felt my cheeks get even warmer than they already were from class.
“Watch for little movements,” Master Kim said. “Little movements give away bigger things to come.”
It sounded like something you’d read in a fortune cookie. Great. I hated fortune cookies. They always crumbled.
After class Madison came up to me. “How’s your lip?”
I shrugged. “Okay I guess.”
“That’s good,” she said and then headed toward the door.
I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or teasing me. She sounded like she was serious. Like she was trying to be nice. One minute she’s not talking to me and scowling, and the next she’s asking about my sore lip. What on planet Earth was that all about?