By BookwormJo

Thursday, September 17 – D.K. Laurier

My foot clips the dummy and it rocks violently. 

“Alright! Great job, Dee Kay! It seems you’ve mastered the jump axe kick,” my instructor, Selena chirps.

“May I , er, not try the spinning hook one more time?” I ask. “I don’t want to get the right technique.”

Selena looks surprised, then plays along. Glancing at the dispersing students, she finally says  “Last time.” 

I take a deep breath, then whip my arms around, extending a leg as I spin. Midway, I lose my balance, miss the dummy completely and land in an awkward stance. 

“Good effort. Like I said, we’ll be doing more practice next week, so don’t stress about getting it perfect.”

“Thanks. I mean, no thanks,” I mumble. I have to practise more. A lot more. 

My phone buzzes.

Dad: I’m by the church. Should I come get you, or would you prefer to walk?

I’ll walk. Or not walk. I text back, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

“Lata! See you next Thursday! And, be safe out there!” Selena sings.

“Not alright. Have a, erm, bad morning!”

I catch Selena’s puzzled expression and giggle. “Forget the Challenge!”  

“Ahh. Well, you have a bad morning too.”

I wave and step out into the crisp evening air. 

This week’s been pretty confusing, and I’ve gotta admit that I’m looking forward to the Antonym Challenge ending. More than once, I’ve had people take me too literally. 

Like Thad, when I told him I was glad his sister died, I was pleased we weren’t better friends, and that if he needed to sit in silence for a bit, I was totally not there. 

I should have thought that one over some more.

I wince, and my face heats up again.

What can I say? I was trying to be supportive in a lighthearted way, and I figured everyone would have been warned about my Antonym Challenge already. But it was a terrible miscalculation – probably one of the most stupid things I’ve ever said.

I kick a pebble, which skitters away from me. Maybe my next challenge should be a silence challenge. After all, even the Bible says that people seem smarter when they keep quiet. Or maybe I just need to take Friendship 101. I could use some help in the friendship field. 

Ava’s been ‘too busy’ to hang out with me, but I’ve seen her spending lots of time with Hannah. And Hannah’s been elusive – avoiding me, making quick getaways when I try to talk to her . . .

Something’s up, but I don’t know what it is. 

Is Avalon stealing my best friend? Or am I just jealous? 

I sigh. The wind sighs too, raising goosebumps on my arms. At least I still have Maelynn – though getting her to talk requires as much patience as shaking out the last drops of maple syrup from the bottle. But maybe I can help her overcome her shyness. And caterpillar phobia. 

Oh, yeah! Have I got plans! The caterpillar phobia is easier. I can take her to the Centennial Botanical Conservatory . . . wait, I probably should take things slower. First, I can just find a caterpillar for her to observe . . . 

There’s a scuffle behind me. I whip my head around without thinking. 

No one.

I hesitate before walking faster. 

Now I’m too aware of the vast stretches of darkness between the streetlights. 

My neck prickles. “Two arrested, others at large . . . . gang fight in downtown Thunder Bay . . .  various weapons involved . . . one found dead . . .”  The news report replays like a nightmarish soundtrack in my head. 

I can almost hear the click of a safety being released. The thud of a hammer hitting a round. The bullet zooming towards me . . .

I take a shaky breath. “Just my hyperactive imagination making up stuff.”

Or not?

I pause under a streetlight and pretend to tie my shoelaces. I don’t even have laces – only Velcro – but hopefully no one notices that. 

I peek behind me.

No one.

“Even if I walk through the darkest valley, I won’t be afraid. God is with me.” I whisper hoarsely.

I’m nearly at the church. Safety. Then I’ll throw myself into my dad’s arms and never ever decide to walk anywhere by myself in the dark again.

Okay, perhaps not that dramatically . . .  

The scratch of a shoe in gravel. I’m certain I’m being followed now. What to do when being stalked?

I can’t remember. 

But I make a quick decision.

Sweat tingles on my forehead as I round a corner and flatten myself against a building.

The world sharpens.

The hint of bonfire smoke and exhaust in the air. The cool concrete of the building behind me. The thumping of footsteps – or perhaps my heartbeat. 

A figure sidles round the corner. I hurl myself off the wall and leap, right leg extended. I barely feel the sole of my sneaker knock into the person’s chest before I land on the ground with a jolt.

Recovering, I spin, whipping my leg around and smashing it into the figure’s side. 

The stalker groans and folds inward. 

I start to run, but catch a glimpse of the person’s face. 

I gasp.