Page 55 of Waking Roslyn

“Is it hard?” I asked Gretchen.

“Not once you know what you’re doing,” she responded through her heavy breathing. “It takes practice to get it all down to one movement, but once your body knows what it’s doing, it’s really not bad.”

They demonstrated for several more minutes, pointing out different aspects of it. “Are you ready to try now?” John asked me.

Tyson groaned as he got up from the pile of straw again. “Does that mean I can go?”

“Coward,” Gretchen said under her breath with a chuckle.

“Savage,” he tossed at her as he left the stall.

Gretchen grinned and climbed up onto the wall dividing this stall from the other.

John turned to me, a hopeful look on his face. “Ready?” he asked again.

I bit my lip. “What if someone were coming from behind?” I was stalling.

He nodded. “We’ll practice that as well, but one thing at a time. Stand here.” He directed me to stand where Gretchen had been.

I did, but couldn’t help wringing my hands as John planted his feet in front of me. His eyes grazed over me, no doubt taking in my weak stance and nervous fidgeting.

“Actually,” he said, “perhaps you should practice with someone smaller first.”

My brow shot up. “Like who?” Tyson had left.

“Like me,” Gretchen said, jumping down from her perch.

“I can’t flip you,” I said, taking in her thin frame and delicate features.

“Why not?” The corner of her mouth turned up.

“I’ll hurt you.”

“That’s what the straw is for, Rosie.” She put her arms out to her sides and fell back into the pile of straw. After climbing to her feet again, she grabbed my upper arms and had us switch places so my back was to the straw. “Go ahead. Try it. If I come at you like this, what do you do?”

She reached for me with both hands, but I couldn’t do it. She looked so small, even with all her confidence and strength. “What if I pull your arm too hard and it hurts your shoulder?”

“She’s done this plenty of times before,” John said.

Gretchen nodded eagerly. “I do sneak attacks on Ansel all the time, just to be sure he’s getting enough practice.”

She looked so proud of herself, and I almost felt bad for the young man who had to contend with her on a regular basis. She was diabolical.

“Now, come on,” she said. “Give it a try.” She put her hand on my shoulder, in perfect position for me to take hold of it.

“I can’t,” I said, knowing it was ridiculous and feeling embarrassed that I had asked for their help but couldn’t manage to take their instruction some of the time. Especially after I’d been doing so well lately.

Gretchen rolled her eyes in a big dramatic way and then launched into action. Before I knew it, she had reversed our positions, taken hold of my own arm, and yanked me across her back. My feet left the ground and I found myself flat on my back, cushioned by the straw pile, and in shock. Gretchen looked down at me with a smirk.

“Gretchen,” I heard John scold before he came close enough for me to see him. He looked mortified.

I just let out a laugh. They were right. It was disconcerting and not exactly comfortable, but it hadn’t hurt. “Fine,” I said, rolling to my feet. “I take your point.”

Gretchen looked triumphant. John looked relieved. He walked me through the steps again, and I managed to flip Gretchen over my shoulder and onto her back, but it was quite slow.

We practiced over and over. John kept asking me if I was ready to try to defend myself against him and I kept saying no. It wasn’t so much his size that I was afraid of, though that was a factor. No, my real hesitation was simply the proximity that such a thing would require.

I was nearly ready to ask if we could stop for the day when Gretchen extracted herself from the straw and simply said, “That’s enough for me. Best of luck, Rosie.” She waved and bid me farewell.