Page 54 of The Secret We Keep
Evie defends her neck, not allowing him to get an arm lock on her.
Just when I think she might break free, the kid pulls her back with a jolt, managing to swing his right leg over her neck, forcing her into submission. He earns a point, and they both break apart.
I sit back down.
“Damn it,” Pops says, running a hand over his face.
“Couldn’t Charlie have got her into ballet or something less life threatening?” Mum gasps, covering her face before looking at me.
“Come on. Evie’s fearless. Remember what she did to their cat that one time? I bet he tried.”
Morgan looks at me wide-eyed. “What did she do to the cat?”
I can’t help but laugh. “It was attacking a bird. Evie went out and caught it, prized the bird straight from its mouth. She was three, and none of us wanted to do it.” I look back at the blue mats. There are seven minutes left on the clock.
“Brave kid.”
“Yeah. Bravest I know.”
After six gruelling minutes, the score is tied at two a piece. Evie is definitely feeling the burn of fighting a kid who’s bigger than her. She blows out her cheeks, and in the quickest of glances, she looks our way.
“She’s panicking,” I say, more to myself than to anyone else.
“She should be. She’s about to get beaten by a champ, who in ten years’ time, you’ll be screaming his name from the rooftops.”
The young boy’s father hasn’t let up the whole fight. His son is dominating Evie for the first time since the clock started counting down. He claps his hands loudly, only serving to piss me off.
“In your shape, you won’t be around in ten years.”
Morgan covers her mouth with a gasp. At this point, I can’t tell if she’s trying to hide a grin or if she never wants to see me again. Either way, he doesn’t hear my insult, and only continues to thud his hands together, chanting from the top of his lungs.
“You’re not going to do anything stupid. Are you?”
It’s my turn to grin Morgan’s way. “No. Why? Think I should?”
In one swift move, Morgan’s hand is on my cheek, turning my face to look at her. “I think you’ve done enough stupid things lately, Paddy O’Keefe.”
I search her face as she drops her hand. With every second that ticks by on the scoreboard, it feels like our time is running out to clear the air.
“That’s probably true.” I look back at Evie.
With forty seconds left on the clock, she looks exhausted.
“But I forgive you,” Morgan exclaims casually.
I keep my eyes forward. “You shouldn’t. I overstepped a boundary, and for that, I’m truly sorry, Morgs.”
“Don’t sweat it,” she says, giving me a nudge. “No harm was done.” She shyly tucks a golden curl behind her ear. “Besides. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
There’s something more than sarcasm lacing her words when I scrutinise her.
She looks away, mouth dropping open. “Oh my God, look. Look at her go.” She excitedly hits my arm.
My eyes dart to Evie, and my back straightens as she grips her opponent’s sleeve. Her other hand dashes to his collar as she adjusts the grip near his elbow. Her feet land flat on the mat, and in small movements, she wriggles herself out from underneath him, one knee coming up to his chest.
My hand lands on Morgan’s shoulder as she begins to stand. “She’s going to do it,” she squeaks.
Our entire row gets to its feet, almost in one synchronised movement.
