Page 110 of Mr. Edwards
I have a real soft spot for the underdog, maybe because I was once one too. For some reason I always seem to gravitate toward him during class, giving him extra attention to help him succeed. I know what this place did for me and I want him to get the same thing out of it as I did.
I can already tell he’s apprehensive as he bows his head and slowly makes his way toward me. I hope he can find his inner strength to complete this task, it’ll be a blow to his psyche if he doesn’t.
“Hey,” I say when he stops in front of me. He hesitantly raises his head, making eye contact. “You’ve got this.”
He nods, but it’s not a confident one. I place the piece of wood down on the floor beside me.
“Get into your stance.” He complies, placing his right foot forward. He’s left-handed, so he’ll step with the same leg to help put more force behind his strike. I widen his legs a little. “Put all your weight on your front foot and hold up your hand. Good. Now show me your palm strike?” He does as I ask, and I tilt his fingers back further sohis palm is protruded. I don’t want him to get injured. “Perfect. You’re ready.”
I pick up the piece of wood again. Grasping the edges, I hold it out in front of me. “Step forward, and use your palm to hit the center, okay?” He nods again, this time with a little more finesse. “I want to hear a big, loud Kiai from you.”
He strikes but there’s little power behind it, and his Kiai is barely audible. His entire body deflates and I hear him sigh.
“Hey.” I place my hand on his shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. “You can do better than that, I know you can. You just need to hit it harder, that’s all, and your Kiai needs to be louder. I want Reece to be able to hear you over there.”
Timmy looks up, glancing behind me where Reece is sparing in the far back. This time his Kiai is louder, and his palm strike a little harder, but it’s still not enough to break through. I hear a few of the kids snicker behind him and notice the tears that are now pooling in Timmy’s eyes. It makes me livid.
“Hey,” I call out, glancing around the class, even though I know exactly where it came from. “We are a family here; we encourage and support each other, not tear each other down.”
My eyes zero in on Marcus and his mate, Brody. They’re the popular kids in the class. These two think they’re better than everyone else.
“I can’t do it,” Timmy whispers as a tear slides down his cheek.
Placing the wood in my lap, I quickly wipe it away with the pad of my thumb. “Look at me,” I encourage. My heart squeezes in my chest when his big brown eyes meetmine. “You can do this, and you will. Have I ever lied to you?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head.
I place my palm flat on his chest, over his heart. “You just have to believe it in here.” Then I lightly tap his forehead with the tip of my finger. “And in here.”
He nods again and a small, lopsided grin tugs at his lips.
My eyes snap up when I hear. “Tim-mee… Tim-mee… Tim-mee.”
It’s Grayson, bless his sexy ass. He starts to clap his hands while chanting and the rest of the class join in. They’re loud and boisterous, and some of the other patrons in the gym stop what they’re doing and watch on. It’s the exact type of encouragement Timmy needs.
“See, we all believe in you,” I tell him. “You just have to believe in yourself.”
This time he stands tall and pulls back his shoulders as he gets into position. “Kiai,” he screams as he launches forward and the wood splits straight down the center.
The room erupts into cheers, and a huge smile bursts onto Timmy’s face. It’s the first genuine one I’ve seen him give since we’ve met. It warms my heart.
Holding up my hand, I’m beaming as I high-five him like I did the others.
Some of the kids jump up, crowding around Timmy, patting him on the back and congratulating him, then Grayson swoops in and lifts him off the ground, positioning him on his shoulders. He grabs Timmy’s hands and holds them up in the air as he starts doing a victory lap around the outer edge of the mats.
Timmy throws his head back and laughs as tears rise in my eyes. I glance over at his grandmother and see her swipe her fingers over her cheeks. It’s a moment Timmywon’t forget in a hurry, and I have Grayson to thank for that. He made a small moment in time incredibly special for a little boy who desperately needed it. I couldn’t love this man anymore if I tried.
When the class finally settles down, I grab the next piece of wood and rise to my feet. I’m still smiling as Grayson saunters my way, I can’t help it.
“Thanks for what you just did,” I say when he comes to a stop in front of me.
He shrugs it off. “It was nothing. That Marcus kid is a little prick.”
I bite back my laugh because I agree.
Grayson takes another step closer, towering over me. I crane my neck and my gaze meets his. That familiar magnetic pull between us is palpable, so much so I have to look away.
I retreat a step, putting some distance between us. I’m not sure how this is going to work with our height difference. I had to get on my knees for the kids. I extend my arms nevertheless, holding out the board. “Assume your position,” I instruct.
