The Unseen Blade

looked exactly

ing lot was half-empty, and the cars that were there looked older than most of the stud

take. This was

ed and his cryptic text. Forget about Northwood and

ill next week. And Coach Hensley's voice was still in

ue

ut of t

ehind the counter glanced up at me, then did a double take. I was wearing my Westbr

e Principal Mor

Do you have an

e an e

then picked up the phone on her desk and made a call. I stood ther

hair and eyes that seemed to see everything. Vice Principal Morrison. She had a file open on her desk, and

losing the file.

one w

a boy's wrist at th

tighten. "It w

what the r

orts are

de me want to look away. She wasn't like Coach Hensley. She wasn't disappointed. She w

is morning," she said. "You're officiall

t say a

ek. You'll meet with Ms. Patterson every Tuesday and Thursd

erst

r activity per week. We have several options. Chess club. Debate team.

laughed.

g the program for ten years. They've had some success. Nothing

fence a

op them. Morrison didn't react. She

y. State champion your sophomore year. Runner-up last year. A natural

hy am I

lent isn't

rgue. I wanted to tell her that talent was everything. That the world was divided into winners and l

curricular requirement, and it gives you a constructive outlet fo

want to

oin the team or be suspended. And if you're suspended, you'll miss your counseling sessio

her. She s

I suggest you go home and think about what you really want. Because

n't g

dered past, their eyes flicking to me, then away. I could feel them staring. I could feel th

in front

eavy wood, scarred from years of use. A sign on the wall said NORTHWOOD

st tig

d open

m was

with tape, old equipment stacked in the corners. But no people. No

k decades. Fencers in old-fashioned white uniforms. Trophies in glass case

en I s

o from three years ago. Five fencers. A coach. And in the center, holding a

us R

r. His face was sharper, his eyes more intense. But the stillness wa

e you do

un a

was wearing a plain white shirt and jeans, and his feet were bare. I not

Reed. T

said to com

think yo

ve anywhere

Then he walked past me, his bare feet silent on th

hool," he said. "You co

expell

ame to No

t have a

flickered in his expression. Amus

e," he said. "You just

ten. "What's that

lled down two fencing foils. He tossed one to me. I caught it aut

me," h

you

aught you at

familiar in my hand. Almost c

fence a

o the strip and faced

afraid of

oil. "I can see it in the way you move. The way you stand. The way you look at the strip. You w

me like a punc

up," I

ke

so matter-of-fact. Like he knew exactly what I was thinking. Like

"You want to see

ip. Pulled on my ma

didn'

rde,"

tta

was the best fencer at Westbrook. I was the best fencer in the stat

ng to des

he wasn

ess, and every time I thought I had him, he was somewhere else. His movement was min

Then again. Th

alized someth

sn't

just... existing. And he was letting me score p

Pulled of

re you

you doing?

win

e y

ree to nothing. But I felt like I'd lo

ot trying

t need

walk away. But something held me there. Something in the wa

re a

asked. "What do y

the equipment rack, hung up his foil

ai

sto

sent me a text. You told me to co

something in his expression. Someth

. For you to figure out what you really

what I

lding the trophy. "I know what you want. I've been exactly where you are. And I know

ned th

o learn, I'll teach you. But first, you hav

n he wa

n my hand. The score was still on the board. The photogr

the trophy. At everything he'd

ooked at

from

ou didn't come

r. I didn't kn

the strip. At the door wh

made a

oing to lose. I wasn't going to let any

brook. I was going to be the

it kil