“She already declined.”
That should have ended it.
Instead one of Ryan’s students said:
“Coach is scared of the wrestler.”
People laughed.
Ryan laughed too.
Naomi looked at Mia.
Mia looked uncomfortable now.
That mattered.
Naomi could leave.
Probably should.
Then Ryan said:
“Thirty seconds.”
“Just position.”
“No submissions.”
“Let the class see wrestling versus jiu-jitsu movement.”
Naomi looked at Elena.
Not Ryan.
“You supervising?”
Elena hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Thirty seconds?”
“Yes.”
“No submissions?”
“Yes.”
“Technical?”
“Yes.”
Naomi stood.
Mia whispered:
“You don’t have to.”
Naomi looked at her.
That sentence made the choice clean.
“I know.”
Then she stepped onto the mat.
She removed her socks.
No rash guard.
Plain T-shirt.
Ryan looked amused.
“Anything I should know?”
Naomi answered:
“Yes.”
His eyebrows lifted.
She continued:
“If I say stop, stop.”
Ryan smiled.
“Of course.”
Naomi nodded.
Good.
They moved to the center.
Then he said it.
“Try to keep up.”
Eleven seconds later, he tapped.
And the entire evening changed.
After the demonstration, Naomi did not stay.
Mia followed her to the parking lot.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“You seem mad.”
“I am.”
“At him?”
“Partly.”
“At yourself?”
Naomi looked at her sister.
“How do you do that?”
“Live with you.”
Fair.
Naomi unlocked the car.
Mia got in.
Neither spoke until they reached the first traffic light.
Then Mia said:
“You were really good.”
Naomi stared at the road.
“I caught one position.”
“He’s a black belt.”
“Yes.”
“And you trapped him.”
“Yes.”
“In eleven seconds.”
Naomi sighed.
“Do not become the internet.”
Mia laughed.
Then became serious.
“Why didn’t you tell them you were good?”
Naomi gripped the steering wheel.
“Because I didn’t go there for me.”
“Still.”
Naomi waited.
Mia asked:
“How good were you?”
Naomi looked over.
“You know.”
“No.”
“I know you wrestled.”
“I know Dad coached.”
“I know you have medals in that box Mom refuses to throw away.”
Naomi smiled faintly.
“Your mother believes trophies are furniture.”
Mia continued:
“Were you like national champion?”
“No.”
“Close?”
“Once.”
“What about jiu-jitsu?”
“Purple belt.”
Mia’s eyes widened.
“You have a purple belt?”
“Somewhere.”
“Why did you say you barely trained?”
“I said I used to.”
“That is lying with technically true words.”
Naomi smiled despite herself.
“Dad taught you that phrase.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then Mia asked:
“Why did you quit?”
Naomi’s smile disappeared.
She could have given the short answer.
Injury.
School.