I wish we lived in a world where this wasn’t an issue—ideally no one should have to learn to protect themselves—but I’m an advocate of doing whatever it takes to make sure none of these kids becomes a victim. Until we can fix the world, people have to protect themselves, and I hope they never have to use what I teach them.
I run a little late on my workout, so when it’s time for today’s school to arrive, I’m sweaty and still putting away equipment and setting up the mats for class.
The door to the shopfront opens with a jingle, and the sound of teens echoes through the space as if they’re all yelling into a loudspeaker. How are kids so loud? I get they’re excited and they’re kids, but I mean, physically, how are they so loud?
One good thing about teaching Japanese martial arts—a mixture of judo, karate, and aikido—I get to tell the kids the dojo is a quiet space. It works about half the time.
I’m almost finished setting up when someone steps through the small opening separating me from the reception area by only a bamboo curtain.
“Anders?”
I bolt upright and freeze at the sight of Reed standing in my doorway. How did he find me? Wait … he called me Anders, and he looks as surprised as I do.
“Mr. Garvey?” One of the kids enters the room behind Reed, wearing his gi. “Hi, Law.” Davis bows with a palm to fist out in front of him. I’m supposed to bow back, but I’m stuck blinking at Reed.
“Law?” Reed asks.
“I’m Lawson Steele.” I clear my throat. “Anders is my brother.”
“Holy shi—vers.”
“Mr. Garvey almost said shit!” Davis runs out to the other students like it’s the biggest news of the year.
“Reed Garvey. I, uh—”
I take his outstretched hand and shake it. The hand that—nope, don’t go there. “You went out with Anders?”
Reed lets out a relieved breath. “Thank God. I thought I might’ve been dangerously close to outing him to his twin brother.”
I laugh, but it’s forced. “Anders has been out since high school. You’re safe.”
“I, uh, had a date with Anders last week.”
“Let me guess, you haven’t heard from him since.”
Reed laughs. “You would be correct.”
We stare each other down to the point of awkwardness, and survival mode kicks in. All I’m picturing right now is last weekend, pushing this guy against the wall in his apartment, and having the most explosive sexual encounter of my life. And it was only a fucking handjob. What would happen if …
Nope. Seriously, don’t go there.
Knowing I’m about to have a room full of teenagers, I quickly think of something to deflate the tightness in my pants and the memories of that night. The last thing I want to do is have a hard-on while working with kids.
Can anyone say prison time?
And it’s not like my gi hides anything.
Even though I’m not aware of it, I manage to get out a normal sentence. “What happened to that Jenkins lady from Carindale High?” Give me a fucking medal, please.
“I think Carindale was excited to have a gay teacher to take over the LGBTQ union when I got the job,” Reed says. “And then as soon as I found out about this program, there was no holding me back. I wish I had something like this in high school.”
“That’s why I established it,” I say.
Reed cocks his head.
“For Anders.” And me, but no one knows about that.
“Right. Of course.”
“I better …” I nod in the direction of reception where the kids are getting louder by the second. “You’re welcome to stay and watch. Or go to the coffee shop up the road. That’s what Mrs. Jenkins did.”
“I’ll stay. I mean, I’d like to watch, if that’s okay. I want these guys to know I’m not here because I have to be—that I want to be here and if they need help or advice or whatever …”
“You could even join in if you really want.” I grin.
“The kids will love that.”
I don’t say aloud that I wouldn’t mind it either.
Reed takes up a spot in the back, but the kids won’t have that. Especially after I point out their new teacher is joining in.
After Reed takes his place next to me as my “assistant” and sends me a glare, I wink at him and start with stretches and light warm-ups. Then we move on to the routine katas I teach each week.
Reed’s eyes stay on me the whole class, and I can tell it’s not just in an observatory way. Pretty sure he doesn’t give a shit if he’s getting the movements correct. Maybe I’m reading into it, because it was me the other night who Reed had his mouth all over, not my brother like he thinks. Maybe he knows it was me. I shake that thought free. There’s no possible way he could know.