Marcus paused.
Then smiled faintly.
“Why?”
“Just asking.”
“She trains here.”
“I figured that out.”
Marcus returned to wrapping his hands.
“She has experience.”
“How much?”
Marcus looked at him.
“Enough.”
Tyler frowned.
“That's not an answer.”
Marcus smiled.
“It is if you're smart.”
Tyler walked away.
He didn't like the feeling in his stomach.
He didn't like uncertainty.
And he especially didn't like being told that someone was better than he expected.
Later that afternoon, Amara arrived.
She placed her backpack against the wall.
Then she bowed toward the mat.
Tyler watched from across the room.
This time, he didn't laugh.
Amara began warming up.
Forward roll.
Backward roll.
Hip movement.
Balance drill.
Footwork.
Everything was controlled.
Daniel Hart watched from the opposite side.
He had seen thousands of young athletes.
Most talented fighters wanted to be noticed.
Amara seemed determined to disappear.
Daniel finally approached Marcus.
“You never told him.”
Marcus sighed.
“He wasn't ready.”
“Tyler thinks she's a beginner.”
“She was.”
Daniel looked at him.
Marcus continued.
“Three years ago.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“And now?”
Marcus looked toward Amara.
“Now she's something else.”
Neither man noticed Tyler listening from nearby.
His fists slowly tightened.
He had spent years being called the best teenager in the building.
Now there was a little girl who didn't even know his name.
And somehow, that bothered him more than losing a match ever had.
CHAPTER 3 — THE CHALLENGE
The next Friday, Tyler made his decision.
He challenged Amara.
Not during official practice.
Not under Marcus's supervision.
He waited until the gym was crowded.
Parents sat along the benches.
Teenagers gathered near the mats.
Phones appeared almost immediately.
Tyler loved audiences.
He stepped into the center.
“Hey, Amara.”
She looked over.
“Yeah?”
“Come here.”
She walked toward him.
Tyler smiled.
“You know what?”
“What?”
“I think we should settle something.”
Marcus immediately looked up.
“Tyler.”
Tyler ignored him.
“You've been acting like you're too good to fight me.”
Amara blinked.
“I haven't said anything.”
“Exactly.”
She looked confused.
Tyler laughed.
“You're always quiet.”
Amara shrugged.
“I don't have much to say.”
A few students laughed.
Tyler's jaw tightened.
“Then let's train.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“Not like this.”
Tyler looked at him.
“Why not?”
“Because you're angry.”
“I'm not angry.”
“You are.”
Tyler turned back toward Amara.
“Are you scared?”
Amara looked at him for several seconds.
“No.”
That answer landed harder than an insult.
Tyler smiled.
“Good.”
Marcus sighed.
“Five-minute technical round. Controlled.”
Tyler nodded.
“Fine.”
Amara stepped onto the mat.
Everyone watched.
The atmosphere felt different now.
This wasn't a joke anymore.
The round began.
Tyler moved first.
He feinted left.
Amara didn't react.
He stepped forward.
She shifted.
He tried another angle.
She moved again.
Tyler increased his pace.
Amara stayed calm.
Then Tyler made the first mistake.
He overcommitted.
Amara caught his momentum and redirected it.
Tyler stumbled.
He recovered immediately.
But the crowd had seen it.
A few whispers spread.
Tyler's face reddened.
“Again.”