The Academy (18 page)

Read The Academy Online

Authors: Emmaline Andrews

Tags: #romance, #young adult sci fi, #young adult romance, #sci fi romance

BOOK: The Academy
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“All right.” I nodded. Then, unable to help myself, I reached out and touched his sleeve. “Thank you, North,” I said, looking into his eyes. “For everything you’ve done for me. I…I wouldn’t be able to make it here without you.”

 

To my surprise his cheeks actually turned pink. “Don’t mention it,” he said gruffly. “Come on, it’s dinner time.”

 

I hopped off the bed and followed him out of the room. There was something else I had wanted to ask him—something about what he’d said to Broward before he rescued me. But his other words had driven the thought straight out of my mind.
“I wish I knew why I felt so protective of you…”
What had he meant by that? Did he sense somehow that I was a girl? Was my secret still safe? And shouldn’t I be feeling more worried right now?

 

But giddiness kept overcoming my darker emotions.
He likes me, he wants to protect me!
I couldn’t help thinking. And though I had vowed to myself to put my emotions for North aside, I felt them welling up inside me again, as light and airy as the bubbles in a carbo drink and just as impossible to contain.

 
Chapter Seventeen

 

 

“Judo literally translates as “the gentle way,” North lectured me as we faced each other across the mats Coach Janus had allowed us to drag to one corner of the gym. I had talked my roommate into showing me some of the techniques he’d used on Broward the day before even though he insisted we concentrate on self defense.

 

“The gentle way?” I asked, adjusting my
gi.
The back of the gymnasium was a storehouse of unused equipment and North had been able to find the correct costume in my size. It consisted of a loose, long-sleeved white jacket and pants tied with a thick cloth belt. Under it I wore a dark cotton t-shirt, the better to disguise my breast bindings. North’s own
gi
was black with a black belt to match. Both of us had removed our boots and socks, to avoid injuries and get better leverage on the mat.

 


Ju
means gentle or tender and
Do
means road or way,” he continued.

 

“I didn’t see anything gentle about the way you flipped Broward yesterday,” I pointed out.

 

“It was, though,” North said earnestly. “Using the same techniques I could have broken his bones or dislocated his joints. Instead I simply put him out of commission.”

 

Wow. I remembered his warning to Broward about breaking his ribs, nose, and arms but suddenly it came home to me that North really could follow through on that threat—and pretty easily too. No wonder the entire school kept a respectful distance from him.

 

I nodded. “Okay, I believe you. Go on.”

 

“In Judo you never resist—you yield and then use your opponent’s strength against them,” North continued. “So technically, the stronger your opponent, the more you have to work with.”

 

“I have plenty to work with where Broward is concerned,” I said grimly.

 

North grinned. “Exactly. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. Now—Judo is actually divided into several sections including throws, pins, and choke holds or locks. I’m going to demonstrate each of them to you but I think we should concentrate on throws and self defense for right now. You don’t want to try pinning someone like Broward to the ground unless you know what to do with him afterward.”

 

I could see the sense in that. “Okay then, show me how you threw him yesterday.”

 

“That was a one-arm shoulder throw—an Ippon Seoinage. I’ll show you how I did it to Broward, but first you have to learn how to fall.”

 

“How to
fall?”
I asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“If you want me to teach you some Judo moves, yes.” North frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you, squirt.”

 

“I’m not that delicate,” I protested. “Come on, North, treat me like a guy—uh, I mean, any other guy you were training with.”

 

He shook his head. “I
am
treating you like any other sparring partner. The first thing everyone learns in Judo is how to fall without hurting themselves.” He proceeded to show me several 'breakfall' techniques. After about ten minutes when I seemed to be getting the hang of it, North declared that we were ready to continue.

 

“Now in order to throw your opponent, you have to first force him off balance,” North said. Standing with his feet planted firmly, shoulder width apart, he beckoned to me. “Come at me.”

 

I frowned. “What? Just attack you?”

 

North nodded. “Do your worst. Come on.”

 

I was more than pleased to do as he said. Here was a chance to get the hand-to-hand combat training I had longed to have for years. I had always felt jealous of Kristopher when he and his tutor sparred and wrestled together. Now I would learn to keep myself safe and put an attacker out of commission as well.

 

But on my first try, the only thing out of commission was me. I ran at North as he had instructed, intending to attack with all my might. I had just time enough to see the small smile twitching at the corners of his mouth before I was suddenly airborne and heading for the mat.

 

Luckily, I remembered the breakfall technique he’d taught me, slapping the mat hard with my free hand as I fell to absorb some of the shock of my abrupt landing.

 

North looked pleased. “Not bad, shrimp. Not bad at all. Now let me show you how I did that.”

 

He took me by the arm and pulled me close, explaining step-by-step exactly how he’d managed the throw. I knew I should be paying attention—and I was. But part of my brain kept wanting to think about how close he was, how blue his eyes were, and how good he smelled—like warm, masculine musk and clean sweat.

 

North showed me several basic throws and even let me practice throwing him—not easy at first since he was so much bigger than me. I got the hang of it, however, enjoying the fact that I was able to shift an opponent more than twice as large as myself.

 

“Of course, Broward isn’t going to stand there like a sack of flour and just let you throw him,” he pointed out, getting up and straightening his
gi
. “He’s going to be coming for you.”

 

His words sent a shiver up my spine. He was right—Broward was merciless and obviously mentally unbalanced. I wondered if I would really be able to apply what North was telling me if the bully attacked me again. “Tell me more,” I said, trying to take my mind off it. “You promised to show me the other techniques too.”

 

“I did, didn’t I?” He nodded. “Okay, what do you want to learn?”

 

“Yesterday when you had Broward down on the ground and he tried to get up the second time, you told him, ‘don’t make me pin you.’ Could you really have kept him down against his will?”

 

North shrugged. “Of course. Look, get down on the mat with me and I’ll show you.”

 

“All right.” Obligingly, I crouched on the mat, waiting to see what he would do next.

 

“Okay now, let’s say you’re Broward. Lie on your back just the way I had him yesterday.”

 

It felt strange to lie down with him leaning over me but I reminded myself that he was simply treating me like any other male and tried to push the chaos his nearness stirred in me out of my mind.

 

“So,” North continued. “You’re on your back. Now try to get up.”

 

I started to get to my feet only to find myself pinned neatly beneath him on the mat with my arms locked over my head and my legs twisted in place beneath his.

 

“You see?” North’s chest was pressed to mine and his face was close enough to my own that I could see the golden flecks in his pale blue eyes and feel his warm breath against my cheek. Suddenly my heart was pounding again and I couldn’t stop myself from looking at his lips. They were full and soft looking and the bottom lip had a sensuous curve that was almost lush. Yet somehow his mouth managed to look completely masculine. I wondered suddenly what it would be like to have those lips pressed to mine—what it would feel like to have him kiss me.

 

“Jameson?” North’s soft murmur took me by surprise and I realized that he had stopped talking some moments before. Instead of instructing me, he too, was quiet. In fact, he seemed to be studying my face almost as intently as I was studying his. “What is it?” he asked softly, holding my eyes with his own. “Are you all right?”

 

“Fine. I’m…just fine.” But I couldn’t make the words come out above a whisper.

 

“Fine, huh?” He frowned. “Then why did you get so quiet all of a sudden? And why are your cheeks so red?”

 

“I…” I tried to look away but somehow I couldn’t. Of course I couldn’t explain the effect his nearness had on me. Back in Victoria I would never have been in such close and intimate contact with any male—it was unheard of. Yet here I was, lying on the floor and grappling with North, who was on top of me. It was utterly scandalous and shameful…and I never wanted it to end.

 

“Are you blushing again? Is that why your cheeks are all red?” North brushed one fingertip over my hot cheek and I flinched and gave a little moan of mingled embarrassment and excitement. Why wouldn’t he leave me alone? And why didn’t I
want
him to leave me alone?

 

“Of course not—don’t be silly!” I whispered breathlessly, feeling intensely vulnerable.

 

North’s eyes were suddenly half-lidded as he looked down at me. “You really do have a pretty face, you know. Especially when you blush.” His voice rumbled through me where we were pressed together, making me bite my lip.

 

“Come on, North, stop teasing,” I said, trying to make my voice sound normal and failing miserably. His big body felt so warm against mine and his spicy, masculine scent invaded my senses and made it hard to think.
Close, so close. Close enough to kiss…

 

“I’m not teasing this time. I’m telling the truth.” His fingertip brushed my cheek again softly. “Jameson,” he murmured. “Kris…”

 

It was the first time he’d ever used my first name and it sent a jolt straight through me. “Yes?” I whispered back, unable to look away from his eyes.

 

A look of confused frustration passed over his face. “I don’t know. I shouldn’t be thinking…feeling…”

 

“Feeling what?” I could barely get the words out.

 

“Maybe…maybe it’s because your hair’s so long and you need a haircut but you almost look like a
girl
,” he blurted.

 

Immediately the illicit pleasure I’d taken in his soft words and even softer caresses turned to icy fear. “Let me up,” I demanded, writhing beneath him. “Now, North, I mean it!”

 

“Fine.” He got up immediately, freeing me from the pin. We sat at opposite ends of the mat, staring at each other. I was breathing hard, as though I’d just run a mile, my pulse drumming dully in my ears.

 

“I’m sorry, Jameson.” North ran a hand through his hair. “I’m, uh, not even sure why I said that.”

 

“I’m not either,” I said stiffly. “And for your information, I can’t help…looking the way I look. Everyone in my family has delicate features. Well, except for my father. But the point is—”

 

“The point is, I pinned you down and then called you a girl.” North frowned. “I’m really sorry. I guess I wasn’t thinking. It’s just, your skin is so soft and you smell like…like flowers and apples, even after a workout like we’ve been doing.”

 

“I stopped using those shampoo pellets ages ago,” I protested. “Now I only use yours.”

 

“I know.” He looked frustrated. “But it’s like I said before—you
still
smell good. It’s just…confusing.”

 

I crossed my arms over my chest protectively. “What is there to be confused about—I’m your friend and your roommate. That’s all, right?”

 

“Yeah, of course.” He gave a quick bark of laughter. “Don’t worry—I’m not going all Kinky Hinks on you. Come on.” He got up and held out a hand to me. “Let’s forget about pins and do some self defense. That’s why we’re here in the first place, right?”

 

“Right,” I said. Warily, I took his hand but North didn’t entwine our fingers or try to touch my cheek again. Instead he gave me a brisk hand up, lifting me almost on my toes as he pulled me to an upright position.

 

“Okay,” he said shortly. “Let’s practice getting out of a choke hold. Now what if Broward or one of his idiots grabs you from behind?”

 

For the rest of our time together we sparred without incident. But I couldn’t stop seeing his face so close to mine or hearing his words in my head. What had he been about to say when he called me by my first name? Was it possible that North might ever return my feelings for him? Surely not—he still thought I was a male and he’d made it very clear he had no interest in other males. But then, what had he meant by his comments? And why couldn’t I stop feeling the soft brush of his fingertips against my cheek?

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