Julien's Book (6 page)

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Authors: Casey McMillin

BOOK: Julien's Book
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"I asked her how she was liking the
gym and she said she'd only had one coach, and she was doing her best to avoid his classes from now on because she thought he might be a little too hard core for her."

"Talking about
me
?" Julien asked in disbelief.

Christian laughed. "I guess you were a little too hardcore even
for your biggest fan."

Julien was totally confused. "Is she planning on
continuing
?" 

"Yeah," John David chimed in, " she signed a contract after Christian's class."

Julien gave them both a disgusted shake of the head. "Did her information check out?"

"
Well you saw the same driver's license I saw, and it's not like we run background checks, so yeah, as far as we know she is who she says she is," John David said.

"I seriously can't believe
you guys are gonna let her join," Julien said.

"What are we supposed to do? Tell her she can't come here because her name's Nadine?"

"Her name's
not
Nadine," Julien said.

"What if it
is
?" Christian asked. He was raising his eyebrows as if the idea should intrigue Julien.

"Shut-up," Julien said.

Without another word, he went to the back room to put his bag down. He had no idea what that girl was trying to do. He was glad he'd managed to scare her away from taking his class, but he never
dreamed
she'd continue to come to the gym just to be around him. He wasn't scared of her, but it was annoying, and he wished she would just leave him alone.

 

Chapter 6

 

 

Nadine LaBelle had been going to a gym where fighters train for the last three weeks, and she absolutely loved it. The first class she took was with this fighter guy named Julien who she didn't like very much. She had two bad experiences in his classes, and thought she'd probably try to avoid him in the future. He wasn't very friendly from the start, and for some reason, acted like he didn't really want her to be there.

She
couldn't come to her second class for over a week, because she gave herself whiplash by rolling wrong during the
first
class. The second class she went to was a kickboxing class that was coached by that same guy, and she triple-dog-
hated
it. He was a complete asshole, and she wondered why they hired him in the first place.

Nadine
almost
let those first two experiences discourage her from continuing, but she decided to give it another shot since the guys at the front desk and the other students in class were all really nice. The third class she went to was with another coach named Christian, and his class was a
world away
from the first two she'd been to. Christian was a patient coach whose approach to new students made her wonder how in the world he and the first guy could work at the same place.

After Christian's class, Nadine signed a
one-year contract. They gave her a schedule of classes that conveniently had the name of the coach who taught each one. This would make it easy for her to avoid that guy Julien, which was exactly what she wanted to do.

"What cha thinking about?" her friend Lindsay asked as she sat down next to her on the couch at Starbucks.

"The gym." Nadine said.

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you're going to that place. You need to come with me to
spinning class if you want to get in shape."

"I'm not just going there to get in shape,
" Nadine said. "I'm going to learn how to kick someone's ass if I have to. And besides, it's fun."

"That's not what you said the first time you went there."

Nadine laughed. "I was just thinking about that. I got a bad coach that time, but now that I know what classes to take, it's amazing. Seriously, it's a lot of fun. I wish you'd come with me." 

"I'll stick to my spinning class at Red's. You'll just have to protect me if we get caught in the middle of a bar fight again."

"I don't think that's likely to happen," Nadine said, "but I'll, how do they say,
cover your back
, if it happens."

Lindsay laughed. Nadine's French accent and wording always made her attempts at street slang really funny. "You mean you got my back?"

"Yeah, I got your back." Nadine tried to say it with an American accent that made it even funnier.

"Speaking of having my back
, did you happen to remember the notes you took for me in class yesterday?"

Nadine dug in her backpack, coming up with a fist full of notebook paper that was folded in half lengthwise.
"Pour vous, mon ami."

"You know I can't understand you when you speak French," Lindsay said.

"Oh, please," Nadine said. "That's an easy one."

"
Merci," Lindsay said, reluctantly. She smiled as she opened the notes and stared down at them. 

The girls met their sophomore year when Lindsay put word out on Faceb
ook that she needed a roommate, and a friend of a friend put her in touch with Nadine who was looking for something closer to campus. Nadine was in her senior year at University of Louisiana, and student teaching at the French emersion elementary school. It was a public school, so she wouldn't be able to work there full time once she graduated. She would need a teacher's certificate, which could prove to be a little tricky since she (even though she lived in the states) was technically just visiting and didn't have things like a social security number.

She loved her
student teaching job, and it made her sad to think about not being able to work there when she graduated. She'd have no problems working at a private school, but unfortunately none of those compared to the place she was at now—not in this town, at least. That was what made her feel sad. She loved living in this little town in south Louisiana. She had the best of both worlds there. She loved living in the states, and appreciated how saturated that specific area was in French customs. That was why she was there in the first place. She wasn't alone either. Every year, at least twenty students from France came to UL to study.

Cajun French was so familiar but so different, and Nadine was having a ball getting to know the language
and the little French city she'd come to love over the last three years. She loved the accent too. It was clearly American, but she could hear the French influences and she enjoyed listening to the locals.

"Thanks for this," Lindsay said, holding up the notes. "And may I just say I love you for the good handwriting." Lindsay sounded more like a standard American. She was from Shreveport, which the locals said might as well have been Arkansas, whatever that meant. Lindsay had a lot of friends, so Nadine assumed no one was holding the Shreveport thing against her.

"It's no problem," Nadine said. She looked at her watch. "I have to go. I have class in an hour, and I still have to shave and change and all that."

"What class?" Lindsay asked, unable to remember her schedule.

"Intro to no gi Jiu Jitsu with Coach Christian."

Lindsay gave her a silly smirk. "You big dork. I thought you were talking about a class at school," she said. She started to giggle.
"I can't believe you go to that place. You aren’t like going to fight another girl in a match or anything, are you?"

Nadine shrugged, "No, I mean, I enjoy it and I could see the appeal, but I uh—"

"I can't believe you would even
think
about it, Lindsay said, laughing. "That's crazy. The only way you'd ever get me in there is if I'm in the crowd. I can't get all sweaty and gross in front of all those people."

"You like fighters?" Nadine asked.
She wiggled her eyebrows.

"No,
I just don't want to get sweaty and gross in front of anyone."

"You go to the bicycle class," Nadine said.

"That's different. That's all girls."

"So it's just
men in general, not fighters specifically."

"Shut-up," Lindsay said. "No, I'm just not into that kind of thing—for myself," she added. "
But I'd be happy to go sit and watch a bunch of guys having a big testosterone fest. Is there some way I can just go with you and watch without having to get sweaty?"

Nadine laughed. "I'll make sure to bring you with me to the next fight. I think they had some right before I first
started, but they have them all the time. I think there's another one coming soon."

"I would
love
to go to a fight." Lindsay said. "Just as long as it's not to watch
you
."

"Don't worry, I'm not planning on fighting anyone. I just want to know I could if I needed to."

"I get that," Lindsay said. "I think I'll settle for doing my bicycle class, though. I'm good knowing you got my back." Lindsay reached out for a fist bump.

Nadine returned it then looked at her watch again before reaching out to hug her roommate. "I'm sorry I have to rush off, but
—"

"No worries, I pounded my coffee already." They stood up
together, grabbed their purses, and headed for the door. Lindsay had a few errands to run, so when Nadine went home to change, she was alone in the house. She had Ace Hood blasting in her earbuds the entire time she got ready. There were other girls at the fight gym who all looked like they belonged there, but it took a certain level of confidence to be okay with looking like a fool while learning the fundamentals of MMA, and a little rap music helped Nadine muster up the nerve to go in there.

She arrived at the gym ten minutes early. Four of the coaches were standing around the door, and they all made comments about how devastating her skills would be if she continued to show up to class
. John David and Brad were usually at the door, but the owner was there as well along with that guy Julien. There was so much distraction with all the commenting on her future skills that Nadine didn't have to even look at him. She directed her comments to Tim, John David, and Brad and avoided eye contact with the birthmarked one altogether. The class she was taking was intro level Jiu Jitsu, but it was no gi. When grappling with a gi, there are moves where you use the opponent's uniform against them. It was great for self-defense because it taught you how to use the attackers clothing against them.

Many of the fighters trained in
no gi. It was essential since they don't have anything to grab onto in the cage, but Nadine enjoyed it and thought it might come in handy if she ever got attacked at the beach or something like that. Coach Christian was normally the one who taught the class, but Nadine started to get a little scared since he wasn't standing there with the other coaches.

She had already begun to walk off toward the main mat when she had the thought and turned back toward the four coaches standing at the door. "Is Christian coaching this class?" she asked.

The coaches all turned to her in unison. "It's coach Julien tonight," the owner said. Nadine couldn't help herself; she didn't want to make eye contact, but she had to look at him. Her eyes met his, and she realized he was as disgusted at the sight of her as she was at the sight of him.

She was wondering where he got the nerve to look at her like that. She had
good reason
to have a disdain for
him
, but he had
no
reason to dislike her.

Meanwhile,
Julien was wondering where
she
got the nerve to look at him as if it was an inconvenience to have him coach the class. What kind of games was this girl playing? He couldn't believe she had the audacity to come in the gym claiming to be Nadine LaBelle and then act like she
didn't
want to take a class with him. And there she was—standing in front of them like she might not stay in the class.

"Why aren't you coaching the class?" she asked, looking in the general direction of John David and Brad. She knew either of them would be capable of
it. Obviously, the owner would too, but she didn't know him as well as John David and Brad and wasn't about to ask him a question like that. Normally, that's not something she would say to John David or Brad either. She was just in panic mode because taking a class with Julien wasn't on her agenda. He was the
one
coach she tried to avoid on the schedule.

"I'm not the guy in the book. That's just a bunch of stuff Shea made up." He crossed his arms indignantly and looked at her as if she should
apologize for something, which made the comment (and whole experience in general) a bit surreal. She glanced at the three other guys for some support, but none of them spoke up to help her right away. 

"I think I'l
l come back when Christian is coaching," she said. She regarded Julien as if he might explode any second, and started to walk toward the door. The three other guys all made gestures to get her to stop.

"No, no, no," Tim said.
"I think there's just been a misunderstanding."

"There's nothing to misunderstand
," Julien said. "She's obviously impersonating the book." Again, he looked at her as if he were completely disgusted by the sight of her.

Nadine wanted to just scream. Wh
o did this asshole think he was?
Blaming
her for impersonating someone. She had no idea what he was talking about, which just added to the absurdity of the situation. Twice he'd mentioned something about a book, and Nadine remembered hearing him mumbling something about a book when she'd taken those first two classes with him. She wondered what this
book
was, and why he was so
obsessed
with it. She thought maybe it had to do with some Jiu Jitsu rules that she didn't follow. It had taken her a few classes to remember to bow on and off the mat consistently. Maybe she'd done something like that to offend him.

"
I'll be in there for the class," Tim said. "I was planning on helping Coach Julien out."  Julien didn't bother arguing. He just headed toward the main mat, looking past Nadine the whole time. It was so awkward that confronting the subject was the only logical choice.

"Can one of you please tell me why he's so angry with me?"

"It's just a little coincidental that your name's Nadine LaBelle, you're from France, and you're in here taking a class from Julien." Brad said.

"
I haven't read the book," Tim said, "but from what I hear, there are like twelve hundred other things that line up too."

"Actually I'm trying my best to
avoid
taking a class with him," Nadine said, frustration heavy in her voice. "And what do you mean when you say
other things line up
?"

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