The Game by Terry Schott

Two of my friends have saved me a spot, and I sit down beside them. The girl on my right isn’t someone I’ve seen before, so I smile at her. She smiles back. Remembering what Sensei just told me, I introduce myself. “Hi, are you one of the students from the American dojo?”
    The girl grins and nods. She’s really pretty. And very… confident, I guess is the right word. It’s like she’s a big movie star and everyone is here to see her. And she’s really pretty. “Yeah, I’m here from the States. This is a great dojo you have here.”
      “Thanks,” I say. “So what brings you here? We go to the States to compete sometimes, but I’ve been here for three years and I don’t remember any American schools visiting us.”
      “We came because of me,” she says with a shrug. “Apparently I’m pretty good at this karate, and not many people around can give me a very good contest in sparring. I win the kata part too. So somehow my Sensei knows your Sensei and they got to talking and agreed to bring me here. There’s a student here that is maybe as good as, or even better than me. I’m excited to meet him!”
      “What’s the students name?” I ask. I had no idea this dojo had someone so skilled.
      “Trew Radfield,” the girl says, looking around like she’s waiting for me to point him out to her. She looks around for a couple seconds and, when I don’t say anything, she looks back at me. I’m sitting there smiling with a finger pointing at my chest.
      “I’m Trew Radfield. But I don’t think I’m that good.”
      The girl holds out her hand to shake with me. “Well, I guess we will get a chance to see soon, Trew. Nice to meet you. My name’s Danielle Benton.”
    Stephanie
      It’s so hot out today. I wish I could be inside with a cold drink, but my gut tells me to keep a close eye on Trew this afternoon, and my gut is always right. I’m not having the type of feeling I get when someone wants to kill him. That’s a sick, panicked feeling with a heavy pressure behind my eyebrows. This is more of a tingling, curious feeling, not like something bad is about to happen, but more like I should just be close by to keep an eye on him.
      He went into the Dojo with his family. Poor guy, I know they turn the air conditioning off in there on test days. I’m likely better off being outside than in. I can’t be in there anyway, that’s not where my gut is telling me to be. I’m standing across the street from the dojo. Soon I’ll get closer to look through the window when enough people gather there to watch the events inside. So many kids born — there’s always standing room only for most events now with so many parents and children. It’s insane.
      I’m sipping on an iced tea, looking slowly around from time to time but trying not to look conspicuous, when from behind me I hear a familiar voice speaking in a language I rarely hear any more.
      “Hello, Stephanie. A little hot out for being lazy on a bench, don’t you think?”
      I slowly turn towards the voice, giving the man I see behind me a genuinely warm smile. I’m always happy to see Raphael, even though the last time I saw him he was trying to kill me. But that wasn’t personal — he was just doing his job.
      “Raphael, you handsome wolf! Come over here and give me a hug.” We embrace and it feels so good to touch him. Sometimes I’m apart from my countrymen so long that I’m afraid I’m the last of us. Of course, that’s not true — hundreds of us still exist; it’s just a big world to move in, and we’re all kept busy.
      Seconds pass and Raphael holds me at arm’s length, looking me up and down. The man really is beautiful. Hair so black it shines with a bluish tint in the sun pulled back into a ponytail. Eyes just like mine, deepest brown, with flecks of gold in them which swirl with different speeds depending on his mood. He’s six feet tall, with bronzed skin and very well defined muscles. And the