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Sixteen years old/10th Grade/January
Dad sat in one of the chairs many family members occupied at karate class. After warm-ups, Patrick and I paired up to practice some self-defense takedown moves. I stood opposite of him and noticed how red and blotchy one of his cheeks was. It kind of caught me off guard, and the question on the tip of my tongue rolled out before I could stop it.
“What happened to your face?”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?”
“No,” I replied.
“Must not be any of your business, then,” he smarted back and then laughed. “Just kidding. So show me how to do this move,” he quickly said. “But don’t slam me into the mats.”
Though we’d practiced before, Patrick always felt like he needed to remind me not to slam him down. I blew off the fact he hadn’t explained what happened to his face and eagerly jumped into walking through the demonstration with him. Though many students around us used more force with their takedowns, I made sure I had my hand wrapped firmly around his bicep to help slowly take him down to the ground. I never used my true strength with Patrick. Even though he never said much about his stepbrother, I just felt like Patrick didn’t need that from me. He was obviously trying to learn stuff to keep up with his stepbrother, so me showing off my strength wouldn’t help.
“See? Just like that. Then when they’re on the ground, you can put your knee into their gut or grip their throat,” I reminded him. I sat back on my heels but pointed to his stomach.
While on the ground, Patrick nodded at me. I stood, leaned over, and offered to help him up. He took my hands, and as he started to get up, his gi opened, giving me a glimpse at the black and blue bruise on his chest.
“Patrick—”
“It’s nothing, Hollis,” he said under his breath. Both of us quickly glanced at one of the karate assistants who was walking around helping students. “My stepbrother and I were messing around. It’s nothing,” he insisted. “Take me down again,” he quickly said as the assistant neared us.
I talked through the moves with him, but I felt like it didn’t matter and as if he wasn’t listening. I took him down to the ground and used more of my strength to lower him gently so his body wouldn’t slap against the mat. Despite being what I thought was gentle, he closed his eyes and narrowed his eyebrows when his back touched the mat.
“Patrick?” I whispered.
“Good, Hollis,” the assistant instructor said as he stood over us. “Remember, your hand to the throat or the knee to the stomach.”
I nodded quickly to agree. After he walked on to the next group, I helped Patrick up.
“What happened?” I asked again.
“My stupid stepbrother and I got into it. It started out with us wrestling around and then he got mad and it ended up more aggressive. Just brothers being brothers shit.”
“Tell your dad or stepmom, Patrick.”
“My dad is so far up my stepmom’s ass trying to keep her happy that he doesn’t give a shit about anything I say. She does nothing but drink and lay around by the pool with her other rich and useless friends. Anyhow, my dad doesn’t care. He’s told me to stop being a pussy and defend myself.” He glanced over my shoulder toward the instructor. “That’s what I’m here to try to learn,” he said.
Unsure of what to say exactly, I nodded. I wondered if he still saw his biological mom. Maybe living with her was an option. Or maybe it wasn’t since he was living with his dad. I promised Patrick that I’d help him, and we worked together until class was dismissed.
“So, we’re still on for tonight, right?” he asked as we walked to the chairs where our bags were.
“Hell yeah,” I confirmed. “Hey, if you want to stay the night at my house to get away from your stepbrother, you’re more than welcome,” I offered, remembering that my mom said it was okay to invite Patrick over.
“I might take you up on that. Thank you.”
“My dad is here. Let me introduce you.” Dad stood as we approached. “Dad, this is Patrick. Patrick, this is my dad.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Patrick, I’m Charles,” Dad said as he shook Patrick’s hand.
“Hi,” Patrick replied.
“So, you’re coming over this evening for the TCF event, right?” Dad asked.
“Yes, sir. Hollis invited me.”
“I also told him he could stay the night if he wanted,” I said. My brothers and I knew better than to invite people over without asking first, and we knew better than to ask in front of our friends. I’d never made a habit of going against my parents’ wishes on that, but for some reason I felt the situation was urgent where Patrick was concerned. Thankfully, Dad didn’t seem to mind.
“Sounds good, you’re more than welcome to stay over.” Dad glanced at his watch and then at me. “Ready, sport?”
