Her opponent lunges. Em dodges, stepping out of reach like we practiced a hundred times.
The other girl hesitates—too long. Too late. Em strikes. The blade moves so fast it’s a silver blur in the air.
14–14.
Match point.
Reset.One more, Em.
Her opponent launches a desperate attack, lunging deep. But Em reads the movement perfectly. In one fluid motion, she sidesteps, blade snapping down to catch her opponent’s wrist.
The buzzer wails.
15–14.
I punch the roof of my Range Rover, raw adrenaline coursing through my veins. “FUCK YEAH, EM!”
The phone spins as Coach bellows, “MOLODETS!” and Sadie’s screams pierce the mayhem. Through the chaos, Em turns toward the camera, raising her mask with a triumphant grin. I send a text to Reese.
Dante
Em dominated her first tournament!
I’m so damn proud right now I can barely contain myself.
Little Fighter
AHHH!! I KNEW she would! The way you’ve been mentoring her is incredible! Can’t wait to hear every single detail during Sunday choreo.
Dante
Thank you for helping me pick out her gear.
Little Fighter
Send me pics of her reaction!
Got to go, Mari is calling for us.
All the practices, the countless drills, and every hard-earned lesson come together. This determined student, who started as part of my community service, has grown into a true athlete.
She fucking did it. My very own champion.
Em’s parents didn’t show, like they said they wouldn’t. Not even after she texted them to let them know she won.
They wouldn’t even come to pick her up from the high school gym.
Assholes.
That’s how we ended up at In-N-Out. The moment I suggested it, her whole face lit up.
A Double-Double Animal Style can do that to a person.
“What are my champions having today?” Coach rubs his hands together like he’s plotting something.
“I’ll have—” Em starts, but I cut her off with a grin.
“Let me guess, chocolate shake, Double-Double Animal Style, and fries drowning in sauce?” I tease. Em sticks her tongue out at me.
