He looked at the heavy bag, then at Maya. I suddenly feel very awake. Maya smiled faintly. He left. Nicole stayed behind the doorway.
She had seen enough to understand one thing. Tyler Grant had absolutely no idea who he was provoking. Or maybe worse, he did. Nicole backed away before Maya noticed her. By 6:20, she was sitting in the hospital employee lounge with a cold coffee and her phone in both hands.
She typed Maya Brooks, Taekwondo, Cincinnati. The search results appeared immediately. The first few were ordinary. Tournament listings, regional brackets, a university sports page. Then Nicole Cole saw the headline.
Brooks takes national open title without dropping a match. She opened it. There was Maya. Not the Maya in the worn coat. Not the Maya carrying soup containers at second table.
Maya in competition gear. Standing beneath bright arena lights with a black and gold tag clipped to her equipment bag. Brooks National Open. Nicole stared at the photo. Another result, three collegiate invitationals, three wins.
Another undefeated sanctioned record. Another a short profile describing Maya as known for exceptional control, defensive timing, and composure under pressure. Nicole sat back. The employee lounge suddenly felt too quiet. By the time she returned to campus that evening, she had read everything she could find.
Maya was at her desk studying anatomy notes. Nicole closed the door behind her. Maya looked up. You okay? Nicole held up her phone.
I saw you this morning. Maya became very still in the practice room. A pause. Then Maya leaned back in the chair. How much?
Enough. Nicole crossed the room and placed the phone on the desk. The National Open article was still open. Maya looked at it, then at Nicole. You searched me.
Yes, you weren't supposed to. I didn't know I wasn't supposed to. Maya looked toward the window. Outside, Caldwell glowed beneath evening lamps. Nicole sat on the edge of the other bed.
You won the national open. Maya said nothing. You haven't lost a sanctioned college match. Still nothing, Maya. It's just competition.
Nicole stared at her. No. Walking around campus while somebody like Tyler treats you like you're scared of him when you could put him through a wall. I wouldn't. Nicole stopped. Maya's voice had changed.
Not louder, sharper. I wouldn't put him through anything. I didn't mean literally. I know. Maya looked down at the black and gold image on the phone.
That's the point. Nicole waited. Maya closed the article. When people know you can fight, they don't just see you differently. Some of them start testing what they think you are.
Tyler already is. Yes. Then why hide it? Because the scholarship clause doesn't care whether I was angry for a good reason. Nicole's expression softened.
Maya continued, "If he gets me into a physical confrontation, the story afterward won't be Tyler Grant picked on the wrong person. It'll be trained black belt attacked donor's son." Nicole looked down. She understood the sentence immediately. The speed with which she understood it made Maya's point for her.
Maya leaned forward. I need you not to tell anyone. Why? Because I don't know what he's planning yet. You think he already knows?
I think he knows enough. Nicole looked at the phone, then back at Maya. Okay. Okay. I won't say anything.
Maya nodded. Thank you. Nicole stood. Then she stopped. For the record, I wasn't impressed because you can kick high.