Page 130 of Bookworm

"That's okay."

Easy for him to say, I thought. Bo was a ninja master.

When we'd walked into the building, loud cheers went up around the room. It was like the king had arrived. Everyone, faculty and students, knew Bo and clearly adored him.One little boy even came up, said, "Mr. Bo, watch this," and did a kick. Bo gave him high-five and said,"Nice one, Kwan. Keep working, and it'll get even better." The little kid grinned, said "Thanks,I will," and ran off to rejoin his class.

"I don't want to embarrass myself in front of all your adoring fans," I said.

He shot me a frown, but it didn't have any of its usual heat.

"Come on, Kent.No one knows anythingwhen they're first starting out."

"Bet you were doing flying-round-house-dragon-haymaker kicks in the womb," I muttered.

"My mom says I was peaceful baby," he retorted.

Of course, he was.

With a sigh, I decided to get it over with. I punched, right, left, right, left, then kicked like I'd seen Bo do so many times during his morning workouts.

"Okay, now start with the left and kick your other leg."

I did what he said.The kids closest to our area giggled at my pitiful attempts, and I stuck my tongue out at them. They only laughed harder, and that made me smile.

"Alright, not bad." Bo nodded. "We can work with that. Next—"

I held up a hand. "I'm not doing pushups."

"But they build upper body strength," he argued.

"So does reshelving books five days a week," I said."And you haven't ever seen mybedroom. My bookshelf is massive, and I reorganize at least twice a month."

"Is that an invitation?"

My eyes widened. "What? No."

"You sure? Kind of sounded like you wanted me to see your bedroom and check out your shelves."

"I…stop playing, Stryker," I said, noticing the small grin on his face. Jerk. "I just don't do pushups."

"Fine," he said, "then we'll table this discussion about when I get to see your room andskip the pushups. How'd you know that's what came next anyway?"

I shrugged, tugging on the ends of my t-shirt, hoping he couldn't see the truth in my guilty expression.

"Just a guess," I said.

Bo kept staring, almost as if a lightbulb had gone off in his mind, and then...

"Good guess," he mumbled.Shaking his head, he added, "Anyway, let's jump right into it. Self-defense. There are a lot of moves I can show you. It'll make you work up a sweat, but it's worth it to know these things."

Tilting my head, I said, "Okay, but I want to make a deal."

Bo arched a brow.

"For every move I attempt, I get to ask a question."

"What?"

"One move gets me one question and a truthful, from-the-heart answer from you," I said."It's called sweat equity."

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