Intermix Nation by M.P. Attardo Page A

flings it carelessly to the
side. A few recruits jump out of the way, narrowly avoiding getting
hit by the pieces.
    Think.
    Nazirah glances at Cato, who appears ready
to cry. She remembers a time several years ago, when a bully
cornered her in a back alley back home. Nazirah remembers watching
as he slowly unzipped his jeans, leering at her. Nazirah dealt with
him. She looks into Grum’s face, suddenly calm. She can’t
physically overpower him, but that doesn’t mean she won’t win.
    Nazirah takes a small step backward, away
from her classmates and toward the open space behind her. She tries
to look frightened, ignoring both the screaming agony of her
abdomen and the blood streaming from her lip. Grum lumbers forward,
attempting to close in on her. Nazirah backs up again, more
quickly, makes sure Grum is following her. Taking her one chance,
Nazirah turns and runs full speed straight at the empty wall.
Grum’s heavy footsteps are right behind her. Nazirah jumps as high
as she can and launches herself at the wall, kicking and propelling
off it. She turns in midair and slams her foot hard into Grum’s
head. He falls to the floor, completely unsuspecting, knocked
unconscious.
    Everyone in the room stares at the two of
them, mouths slack, eyes bulging. “The first rule, professor,”
Nazirah deadpans, spitting blood, “is to always know your
enemy.”
    It’s not Grum she is looking at.
    Her classmates circle her, breaking out of
their spell. They cheer, hugging her and patting her on the back.
Even Aneira congratulates her brightly. Cato is the first one by
her side, rushing over to hold her up. “It’s good to see you again,
Nazi,” he laughs.
    The endorphins that kept the pain at bay
during the fight are quickly dying. But Nazirah feels amazing. A
part of herself that she hasn’t seen in months has resurfaced. And
she welcomes it back like a long lost friend … like a blessing.
    Aldrik, who apparently went to get help as a
precautionary measure for Nazirah, returns with Bilungi at his
heels. He enters the gymnasium then halts in his tracks, staring
uncomprehending at the unconscious fighting instructor.
    Bilungi nearly trips over him. She shoots
him a dirty look and rushes over to assist Grum. “Mr. Caal, please
take Miss Nation to my quarters.” Bilungi waves some smelling salts
under Grum’s nose. “I believe you are familiar with the way.”
    Cato nods, helping Nazirah slowly out of the
room. Nikolaus walks over to them and gently touches her shoulder,
relief clear on his face. “Thank you,” he whispers in her ear.
    “He deserved it,” she replies.
    Nazirah looks around, searching for the
reaction that she really wants to see. She spots him, exactly where
he has been all along, leaning casually against the classroom
wall.
    He’s looking at her, too.
    And he’s smiling, genuinely smiling.

Chapter Eight
    Summer transitions into autumn without any
noticeable temperature change. The days pass by uneventfully.
Nazirah attends the majority of her classes, throwing herself into
work to distract from reality. She even willingly participates in
combat training, doing the bare minimum to placate an even more
wretched Grum, who hasn’t acknowledged her presence since getting
knocked unconscious. She rarely sees any of the rebel leaders. They
are usually on recon missions or in private meetings all day. If
Nazirah closes her eyes and doesn’t think about it too much, life
seems unnervingly peaceful.
    Nazirah lies on her stomach, on the worn rug
of the library. Her bare feet wave casually in the air, shoes
kicked off hours ago. Her ball of hair is knotted in a loose bun,
piled high on her head and secured by two pencils. Her face is bent
low, buried in a thick textbook. Books, maps, and various other
articles are strewn around her in a protective circle. Almost done
with all of her makeup work, Nazirah is currently finishing an
essay Bairs assigned her on Medi life and culture. Nazirah doesn’t
really want to