Page 6 of Give Me a Shot

Jess squinted at the screen.

“And look, Steinem loves you,” Stephanie said.

Steinem had stepped into view, hopping onto Jess’s thigh and rubbing his face on her jaw. She ran a hand down his back.

“I don’t have to take this slander, do I?” she asked him.

Her friends laughed.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Alice said. “This is probably a great opportunity. It’ll be good to join a new community. Make some new face-to-face friends.”

“Just don’t draw down on them,” Stephanie said, winking.

—

Jess pulled into the parking lot of the Folk School. She couldn’t get to the spot she’d taken the previous weeks; the lot was fuller than she’d ever seen it.

“Okaaay,” she said to herself, turning down a different aisle. She thought to park a little bit away from other cars, hoping that she’d still be able to see under hers as she approached it when she decided to go home.But what if it’s dark by that time?

She glanced up. No streetlights in the parking area. She sighed.

Just park, Jess. The “perfectly safe” space doesn’t exist.

She took a deep breath as she got out of the car, squaring her shoulders and walking toward the barn, its open doors decorated with balloons and streamers. Stephanie and Alice weren’t wrong. Jess felt more balanced with her emotions nicely contained. Underher control. Left to her own devices, she could isolate herself in study, or work, or archery. It just happened that way. In England, she’d had her friends to pull her out into the wider world. Before that it was Cassie. Jess needed to clear her throat and rub her suddenly aching knuckles. She took another deep breath. Time for her to be present so she could meet new people.

“Hello! Welcome to the Michigan Folk School,” said a perky female voice to Jess’s left as soon as she crossed the threshold of the barn. The tiny woman behind a table covered in brochures and photos looked much older than her voice sounded. Jess tried to return her smile, but she was temporarily distracted by bright yellow shoots coming from behind the woman’s head. There were small feathers dancing at the ends of the yellow strands.

“I’m Lana,” the woman said, reaching for Jess’s hand. “The millinery instructor.”

“Millinery…,” Jess said, returning her handshake. “That’s hat making, right?”

The woman beamed, her feathers vibrating.

“Exactly,” she said. “Have you ever tried? We have an introductory class if you’d like to come try out the School.”

“Jess is a bit past the point oftryingthe School,” a familiar voice said from behind her. She turned with a smile on her face. Ned, the salt-and-pepper-haired archery instructor that she’d gotten to know during her visits, joined them at the table.

“How’s it going, Ned?” Jess asked.

“Can’t complain,” he said, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening with his smile. “Lana, Jess is new to the area, but she’s come shooting a lot these past few weeks.” He leaned toward Lana, and she followed suit. “Internationally recognized archer,” he said. “Probably gonna replace me.” He winked.

“Ned,” Jess said, “I couldn’t do that. I’m just here to relax.” She looked at Lana. “It’s nice to meet you. Could I get some of those brochures about the other classes?”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Lana said, pressing some materials into her hands. “Glad to have you among us.”

—

Ned guided Jess around the barn, from one small group to another, introducing her to other teachers and longtime students. Everyone was warm and welcoming. The apprehension that had tightened her shoulders was gone, and she was enjoying herself.

They’d just finished chatting with a couple interested in longbow archery when Ned glanced over her shoulder. He nodded at someone, giving them a wry smile.

“Jess,” he said to her, his gaze still over her shoulder, “I’d like to introduce you to someone. He’s a little…well, don’t hold on too tight to your first impression.”

Confused, Jess turned to follow his gaze as a man appeared from behind her, reaching to shake Ned’s outstretched hand. The air in the barn plummeted fifty degrees. The harsh clutching shock around Jess’s heart should have been strong enough to teleport her halfway around the planet.

The Ax Murderer was shaking Ned’s hand. Jess gulped, her adrenaline flaming through her.

“Mo,” Ned said. “This is Jess.” He gestured toward her. “She’s an archer. She recently moved to Detroit and has been doing a little shooting on the range while she decides if she’d like to sign up for some classes. Jess, this is Mo. Our lead blacksmith instructor.”

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