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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2311314-The-Blue-Blaze-Chapter-3
by EA
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #2311314
Ethan continues his training and finally confronts his bullies.
“Hey Ethan, wait up!”
I looked behind me, and my eyes widened in terror, seeing Troy and his buddies following me through the crowded hallway. I froze in place. “D-don’t you have football practice or something?”
Troy grinned. “I do, but I think I need a warmup.” he cracked his knuckles.
If you have an opportunity to run, you take it! Keith’s words resounded in my mind. “I have somewhere to be. See ya!” I turned around and sped down the hallway, dodging students left and right. Hopefully, I’ll blend with the crowd.
“You can’t run forever!” Shouted Troy.
I slammed into the front door, and my lungs screamed at me for air as I heaved.
“Hey man,” I felt someone touch my shoulder. I turned around and threw a cross that Keith effortlessly dodged. “Whoa! Remind me not to surprise you.”
“Shoot!” I sighed. “I’m sorry, I just had a run-in with Troy.”
“No harm, no foul. I don’t see any new bruises on you. Guess he didn’t hit you this time?”
“I ran before he could even touch me.”
Keith nodded with a smile. “Nice. My parents should get here soon. Assuming that Troy returned to practice, we should be safe just standing out here.”
“So, what do you think your coach will have me do for the first day? I hope it’s not sparring.”
“Nope,” Keith laughed. “Sparring is for when you know some technique. I was working on pads and the punching bag my first day.”
“Oh, so kinda like yesterday?”
“Bingo.” he snapped his fingers.
After a couple of minutes, a 2008 Toyota 4Runner pulled up. Keith’s parents had arrived. “Come on, boys,” waved Mrs. Underwood through the passenger-side window.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Underwood,” I greeted as I shifted my weight in the leather seats and breathed a sigh of relief. Troy wasn’t gonna go after me in someone else’s car.
“Hey there, Ethan.” Mr. Underwood turned to me. “Ready for your first lesson?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
The rest of the car ride wasn’t too eventful. We just talked about how school was that day. We arrived at the gym about ten minutes later.
After we walked into the gym, a black man about 5’7 greeted Keith with a high-five. “Hey, Keith! Ready to bring that animal out of you?”
“You know it! Oh, this is my friend Ethan. I told you about him, remember?”
The man looked at me, “Oh yeah. He’s been telling me you’ve been having trouble with some football jocks.”
I looked down. “Yeah… It’s not great.”
“I feel that. C’mon, let’s get you warmed up.” the man I assumed was the Master? Sensei? Coach? Coach. Coach sounded better, led us to the rest of the class, and had us grab a set of jump ropes. We jumped rope for three rounds with 1-minute breaks in between.
I rushed to the water fountain to get some much-desired water and caught my breath.
“You’ll get used to it,” Keith reassured me. The guy barely broke a sweat. I felt a little jealous.
“Easy for you to say,” I crossed my arms. “You’ve been at this longer.”
“It’s only your first day, well, here at the gym anyway.”
The coach reset the three-minute timer. “Alright, get your gloves on!” He announced.
Keith went to the backpack and grabbed his gloves, quickly wrapping his hands before sliding them on.
My voice caught in my throat. It felt like a rock was lodged in my trachea. I never knew how to approach new people.“Um, coach, I don’t have gloves,” I approached him with my head slightly down.
“Oh, there’s some in the bin over there.” he pointed at a black bin with a yellow lid. For loaner equipment, they didn’t smell too sweaty. I guess it would make sense that they cleaned and sanitized the stuff. I picked out gloves that looked strangely familiar to the ones I wore before. “Keith, did you borrow the equipment from here for yesterday’s practice?”
He nodded. “Coach didn’t mind as long as I cleaned them before returning them. He’s a nice guy.”
The coach came up to me. “You’ll be working with me,” he smiled. “The rest of you, work on your switch and roundhouse kicks!” The coach grabbed similar pads that Keith had used the day before, and we got to work.
The class lasted about an hour.
“Whoo!” I exclaimed, “I feel good! What’s this that I’m feeling? I feel powerful!”
“I think that’s the serotonin running through you after a good workout.” Keith wiped the sweat from his brow. “So, how’d you like your first legitimate class?”
“I enjoyed it. It felt good to hit something!”
“Good. Just remember to-”
“Not use it on Troy or anyone unless I must. Got it.”
Keith grinned and nodded his head in approval.
His parents dropped me off at my house after class, and I could enjoy my weekend. My mom and I didn’t do much on a Saturday. She didn’t work that day until after sundown. However, We went to church those days, which was a nice change of pace from the daily beatdown from Troy. After the sun went down, I began to practice some of those movements that Keith and Coach taught me.
Sunday came around, and I walked down to Keith’s house. You wouldn’t think that Keith’s parents were loaded. They lived in a standard one-story house that sat on ¼ acre of space, but they did have a lot of trees, so their front yard was nearly covered with leaves.
Keith walked out with two rakes and tossed me one. “Good morning!”
I caught it with both hands. “You’re helping me?”
“What kind of a friend would I be if I just sat there and watched you work? My parents are going to pay you and the gym anyway. They’ll have some hot cocoa ready when we’re done.”
I laughed. “Your parents are always trying to stuff my face. You’d think they’re trying to fatten me up for Christmas.”
“Hey, we make a lot of food. It would be a waste to throw it all away.”
“Oh, so you’re just feeding me your leftovers?”
“What? No, we just make more than enough on the same day you visit.”
“I know,” I shook with laughter. “Just messing with you. Let’s get to work.”
Keith picked a spot and started raking, “So, how did your body feel after the gym?”
“It felt about the same as usual.”
“Not sore or anything?”
“Nope.”
“Guess you didn’t overexert yourself. My first time, I was sore for a couple of days.”
After a few minutes of raking leaves, I couldn’t help but think of what Coach said that Friday. “I find it interesting that Coach asked if you were ‘ready to bring the animal out of you.’”
Keith stopped raking, tilted his head, and furrowed his brow. “I mean, it’s just a phrase that people use. Kinda like ‘unleash the beast’. It’s just something to pump you up a bit. I wouldn’t overthink it.”
But I couldn’t help but overthink it. My body changed when I was in certain situations. When I was angry, I saw little whisps of smoke stream out of my nose. My pupils turned into slits when I was in danger. I wouldn’t be surprised if my skin turned into scales under my shirt when Troy hit me. When I was a kid, I always wondered what I was. I didn’t think regular humans morphed their bodies. I didn’t tell Keith either. I played it off whenever he noticed something, saying he was probably seeing things. I tried to keep it hidden from my mom, too, and explained it away just like I did Keith; I’m not sure if she bought it. Often, I felt like a freak of nature, that I didn’t belong. I felt like there was something inside of me, a dragon, trying to claw its way out of me and do whatever it wanted. Though every time parts of my body morphed, they always turned back. Now and then, I worried that my body would stay in its changed shape. That my eyes would remain as slits and that I would be blowing smoke out of my nose continually.
Maybe the transformations are there to protect me?
After two hours, Keith and I were done raking all the leaves. As Keith said, Mr. and Mrs. Underwood had hot cocoa ready for us and had an assortment of Mexican sweet bread on a large porcelain dinner plate.
“You know,” said Mrs. Underwood, “I always thought sweetbreads were stomach and pancreas meat.” She dipped a piece of bread shaped like a shell, a concha, into her cup.
“Then some folks told us about this sweet bread shop, and we decided to check it out.” Mr. Underwood took a bite out of a custard-filled empanada. “Boy, were we shocked.”
“I believe the shop was called a ‘pan-a-deria’?” said Mrs.Underwood.
“Panaderia,” I corrected. “It’s a bakery with Mexican sweet bread. My mom and I buy from them a couple of times out of the month.” I bit into a happy face cookie; they had always been my favorite. “Things aren’t always as they seem or sound like.” I thought of my temporary morphs.
“So, did you tell Esther about your martial arts?” Asked Mrs. Underwood. Esther was my mom’s name.
I shook my head. “And I don’t want to either. She disapproves of martial arts. Or any kind of violence. She doesn’t even like to carry pepper spray with her.”
“I feel like that might come back to bite later on.” Mrs. Underwood took a sip of her hot chocolate.
“Who? Me or my mom?”
“Both. You’re mom’s stance on non-violence could end in her getting killed or getting you hurt, more than it already has. But hiding Muay Thai could strain the relationship between you two, especially if she doesn’t approve of it.”
“I guess it’s a risk I’ll have to take.” I sighed. “I’d prefer not to get beat black and blue.” I looked at Keith. “But I wonder, why weren’t you helping me when I got beat?”
“I would have helped if I could, but it was always too late whenever I came across you.” He sighed. “When I saw you, those jerks had left a small while ago or just left the scene. It’s like they know when I’m nearby, and they dip out.”
“Now that I think about it, they always push me into places no one will go. Or purposely target me when I’m alone or if you left for the bathroom or something. Have they ever targeted you?”
Keith shook his head. “Mm mm. Maybe it’s the way I carry myself. They used to look at me nonchalantly, but ever since I started taking Muay Thai classes, they barely looked in my direction.”
Confidence? Maybe I didn’t look all that confident, and that’s why they were targeting me, at least at first. After that, they probably targeted me because I didn’t fight back.

A few months passed, and Christmas Break was around the corner. It was the second to last day of school. I kept taking Muay Thai behind my mom’s back and working for the Underwoods. My grades didn’t suffer much; I’ve had average scores such as Cs and Bs since grade school. Not too great, but not too bad either. Better than straight D’s and F’s. Troy and his gang still targeted me, but it was less and less as time went on.
“Ready for Christmas break?” Keith sat down with a burger from the cafeteria.
“Oh yeah. Away from school, away from exams, away from” I began to feel the cold eyes of hate and malice on me from where Troy sat, right across the cafeteria. “Him and his gang…”
“Best not go near him. From what I hear, it’s the last football game of the semester, and they’ve been on a losing streak.”
“Like I wanna be near him in the first place.” I bit into my turkey sandwich. “So, are we going to class this evening?”
“Yeah. Compared to the first time in the school’s gym, you’re getting the hang of Muay Thai.”
“You think so?”
He nodded.
“Hey, maybe I’ll sign up to be an amateur fighter!” I laughed.
“Okay, don’t get all big-headed about it.”
“What, didn’t you say I’m on the way to becoming a Muay Thai master?”
“I never said anything like that. I said you’re getting the hang of it.”
“Yeah, you keep telling me I’m turning into a master. Maybe I should challenge Coach and take over the gym.”
“Yeah… try it, and we’ll see how it works out.”
I laughed. “Coach would have me flat on the ground in the first minute.”
“Probably less.”
Nothing too eventful happened that day. I stayed away from Troy as much as possible, and school ended.
After some pad work in the gym, we moved on to sparring.
“Ethan, you’re sparring with Keith today.” Announced Coach.
We both got in the ring. It wasn’t the first time I sparred with him. He tried to tone it down the first time, but his body was as hard as a brick. It doesn’t matter how lightly you throw a brick at someone; it will still hurt! Had to take a day off from classes soaked in an Epsom salt bath for what felt like hours that night.
“You ready?” Asked Keith.
I grinned. “Let’s do this.”
I threw a jab, he slipped and threw an uppercut. It wasn’t one of his lightning-quick attacks. He matched my speed and tried to match my force. It still hurt a bit. I threw my hands against the back of his neck, grabbing him in a clinch. I threw a low kick to the right and literally swept him off his feet.
“Nice, Ethan!” Shouted Coach.
I extended my hand to my friend on the floor. “You alright?”
Keith took my gloved hand. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Once standing, Keith threw a mid-switch kick. Catching it, I threw his leg away and countered with my switch to his back. He turned around and threw what looked like a roundhouse, but it turned into a teep, pushing me to the edge of the ring. I got closer and threw a rear low kick. He blocked it with his lead shin and threw a right hook at the side of my face. I blocked it and threw a left uppercut and a right knee strike to his center. I then threw a teep to get some distance, but Keith caught it. As he held my leg, I was hopping with my free one, trying to pull my leg out of his grasp, but he only pulled it closer to him. He then pushed my leg outwards and tossed it in front of me, making me fully lose my balance, and I slammed onto the ring floor.
“Oof!”
We kept sparring until the bell rang.
“Nice spar,” Said Keith
“Yeah, you too.”
“As I said before, you’re getting the hang of this. And you’ve been training only for a couple of months!”
“I know! And I’m only gonna get better!”
The class lined up, and Coach announced: “Alright, just wanted to let everyone know there won’t be any class tomorrow. I’ve decided to take a day off, but we’ll continue next week. Have a great weekend, everyone!”
With that, Keith and I waited for his parents to pick us up.

“Our football team lost their last game last night.” Said the school announcer “But don’t worry! We’ll train harder and get them next year! Have a nice break!”
But there wouldn’t be a ‘next year’ for Troy. As a senior, he would’ve had to live with his team being losers in his final year of high school on graduation.
“Serves him right,” I whispered to Keith, whose desk was beside mine.
Keith chuckled. “I guess karma’s coming back around.” He whispered back.
While some schools got out early the day before Christmas break, ours didn’t. We stayed the entire period before our next class started. Grabbing my books from my locker Troy passed by, and he looked pissed. Like a tiny thing would make him blow up like a volcano. Note to self. Stay far, far away from him. More than usual, anyway.
The day progressed as it always did, though you could feel that even the teachers wanted to leave, our math teacher literally said, “Screw it. Do whatever you want as long as it’s inside this room. Go on your phones, watch a movie, whatever, as long as it’s appropriate. I don’t want to look over and see one of you going to town on yourself while watching who knows what.” Fair enough.
School eventually ended, and it was like an hour and a half away from sundown.
“Since there’s no class later, my parents won’t pick us up,” said Keith as we left through the front doors.
“That’s fine. It’s not like we live that far anyway. It would’ve been nice if we could’ve left earlier, though.”
After a couple minutes of walking, Keith felt around his pockets. “I think I left my phone at school.”
“Seriously, dude!?”
“I must’ve left it at my desk at our last class.”
“Alright,” I pulled out my phone, “I’ll dial it to help you and wait here.”
“Thanks! I’ll be back!” He said as he sped back to the school.
Dialing his phone, I sat down by the sidewalk and waited, dialing again when it went to voicemail. I wasn’t focused too much on my surroundings.
“Ah, my favorite punching bag!” Said a familiar voice behind me.
I swore under my breath, stood up, and turned behind me.
“Well, well, well. Long time no see.” Said a grinning Troy.
“Actually, you saw him yesterday-” corrected William.
“Shut it, Will!” Troy bared his teeth. “You know, I’ve been really ticked ever since we lost the game. The school gym has no punching bags, so I can’t release this pent-up stress and anger. Know of anyway?”
I took a step behind me. “No idea.”
Troy cracked his knuckles. “Oh. I think you do. Hold him still!”
I felt hands grab at my shoulders. I spun around and bashed my elbow against Jason’s nose, hearing an audible crack. Jason grabbed at his now broken nose and shouted in pain. Now’s my chance! I turned my feet and dashed away from them like I was running for my life because I probably was. No more was I going to revert to the defenseless guy curled up in the dumpster area.
“Get him!” Shouted Troy.
My heart pounded as I ran down the street, looking for a hiding place. There wasn’t anything on the side I was, but there was an alley on the other side of the road. I didn’t see anywhere else to hide. I only hoped the alley led to a different place to lose them. Making sure there weren’t any oncoming vehicles, I dashed across the street and into the alley. Troy crossed the street at an angle to catch up to me quicker. As he got closer, I felt my heart skip a beat as he pounced. I dodged away, and Troy fell face flat onto the asphalt. I got to the alleyway and ran down into it. It was turning into a right, so I turned right and soon met a dead end. The place stunk of crap and garbage.
Thump, thump, thump. Troy and his gang soon walked into the alley where I was. “You gave us quite the chase. Nice try, but I told you, you can’t run forever.”
I felt my eyes start to morph again. I didn’t have it in me for another dose of speed to run away again. There was no way I could de-escalate. I had to fight. I took a deep breath and got into my fighting stance, fixing a steely gaze on my attackers.
“Oh!” laughed William. “The kid’s been taking some karate classes. You gonna do one of those famous crane kicks?”
Troy tsked, “This is gonna be fun.” He swung a left hook at my face. I blocked it and threw a cross at his face, followed by a low kick, striking with my shin.
Troy let out an audible shout and looked at me with wide eyes. He shook his head and snarled, “You’re dead, Ethan! Get him!”
Troy’s gang charged at me. William tried to tackle me down, but as soon as he made contact with my torso, I bashed an elbow in the back of his head and smashed my knee against his face. He fell at my feet, not knowing what to grasp at, his face or his head. Amanda managed to slug me on the right side of my face. It was just her arm’s strength, so it wasn’t all that painful. Then, I felt a warm sensation just below my eye; touching it with my finger, I saw it covered in red. Looking at Amanda, I saw that she was clutching a small razor blade. Growling, I exposed my teeth. She took a small step back and stared at me with her mouth slightly open. Kicking William off of me, I dashed at Amanda and clocked her with an uppercut. She fell down and dropped her blade. Jason grabbed a wooden plank from the ground and swung it at me. I ducked, and the plank bashed into Troy’s face. I rushed at Jason and threw a lead diagonal elbow at the side of his face, splitting the flesh. Grabbing his head, I jumped and nailed him with a knee to the face. Wasn't a broken nose good enough for you? I’ll break your entire head, then!
I grinned. So this is a fight! The adrenaline coursing through my veins felt great! “Who’s next!?” I shouted. Troy charged and swung a body punch, slamming into my stomach. I registered it, but I didn’t feel too much. Troy pulled back with a grunt, grabbing onto his fist. I kneed him in the groin and pushed him back with a teep. Now that he was in range, I fired a roundhouse kick to his ribs and heard a crack before he fell down.
“Ethan!” Shouted Keith through the alleyway. It was at that moment I realized my phone was going off. “You alright!?”
I grinned and laughed. “Yup! Just got a scratch under my eye.”
I heard the flick of a pocket knife. “That won’t be the only thing!” growled Jason.
How is he NOT down already!?
I turned around and saw Jason charging at me, his pocket knife behind him. He drove the knife to where my stomach was. I wasn’t able to dodge, and the blade plunged into me. Or so I thought. As Keith shouted my name, the knife’s blade snapped and only cut into my shirt. Exposing deep blue scales.
“W-what the hell are you?” Jason gasped as he and the rest of them stood up with bladed weapons.
Keith sprung into action and kicked his extended leg, sweeping him. Jason fell onto his head and didn’t get up.
Troy swore colorfully, “Let’s go!” He shouted to Amanda and William, “This isn’t over!” he said as they carried Jason’s body out of the alley.
Keith went wide-eyed and slumped onto the wall. “I-I just killed someone.”
“You were defending me. He deserved it.” I said, crossing my arms.
Keith turned to look at me. “Ethan, I didn’t mean to kill him!”
“How were you supposed to know he would fall on his head?.”
As adrenaline began to diminish in my body, I began to quake, and my knees buckled. I also began to feel the sharp pain from Amanda’s razor.
“I gotcha!” Keith said as he caught me. “We should get that slit cleaned up.” He looked at where the knife tore my shirt. “What’s up with your skin?”
“I’ll explain on the way back home. Let’s start heading over.”
Keith nodded and walked me back until I could stand on my own.
© Copyright 2024 EA (dragonguygto at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2311314-The-Blue-Blaze-Chapter-3