For a second, I pictured the face of my ex-best friend from second grade—the one who started the nickname Freaky Tessa and spilled to everyone what I could do—but I wasn’t that angry with her anymore.
The face morphed into Imogene’s. Anger raged through me.
I got back in the stance and glared at the hand target. I put my whole body behind the punch, following through with my shoulder and twisting at the waist like Chris had shown me. As soon as my knuckles hit, I knew something was wrong but it was too late to pull back.
Chris flew three feet and slammed into the wall. The boom reverberated through the gym over the other sparring noises as he crumpled to the floor.
Dread swamped me. What had I done?
“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” I kneeled next to him. Chris’ eyes were closed. “Wake up. Please. Please…”
He started laughing.
“Jerk.” I shoved his shoulder into the ground. “This is so not funny. I thought I killed you.”
He grinned. “Come on. It’s kind of funny.” He jumped up and grabbed me around the waist like I weighed no more than a teddy bear. “My little wolfie,” he said as he spun us around in a circle.
I growled and smacked his shoulder.
He gave me a squeeze. “Don’t think that this is going to get you out of doing more reps.”
Maybe he really had hit his head. “No way. I’ll kill you next time for sure. I don’t know if you know this, but I am kind of super strong.”
“I hate to break it to you, babe, but you took me by surprise and I went with the hit. Just a little drama to up the fun level.” He winked.
The gym doors swung open and Mr. Dawson strode in wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. “Dastien is sitting the rest of this class out.” A series of groans echoed through the gym. More than a few people glanced my way.
Go ahead people. Blame the new kid. Not like Dastien had any responsibility in this whole situation.
“Settle down,” Mr. Dawson said. “You’ll be stuck with me for the next few days. I hear you haven’t done your running yet. One hundred laps people. Now.”
“One hundred. Is he serious?” I slapped a hand over my mouth. Oops. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
“Totally. You never know what to expect when Mr. D teaches the class. He’s really good at kicking our butts,” Chris said.