A Different Kind of Black Belt by Lira Brannon

Author:Lira Brannon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: para-athlete, Young Adult, christian fiction, christian, romance, christian romance, paraplegic, tae kwon do, strong girl books, suicide, self harm, racism, bullying, martial arts, young love, karate
Publisher: C.I. Chevron
Published: 2020-01-14T00:00:00+00:00

HIS ARM SHIFTED. THE sleeve dropped. I plucked at his fingers, but all my strength drained away. All the exercises, the pushing on the wheelchair, nothing seemed to make a difference. He covered my hand with his own and leaned his forehead against mine. I couldn't move, breath caught.

Waiting. Still the silence.

I broke first. Weak after all. "Say something," I whispered. "Truth," I begged.

"My brother is in prison."

As though on a spring, my head snapped up, nailing him between the eyes with my nose. I jerked my suddenly freed hands to my face, rubbing at the smarting appendage. "What?"

"Truth. When I was ten, he drove drunk. Hit a bunch of kids waiting in line at a theater. Killed one, paralyzed another."

His secret.

"It seems like every time I get my feet under me, God slaps me down."

My truth.

"I spent all my teenage years thinking I had to pay for him. I had to be the best son. Best student. Youngest PT graduate. Win the grant for the pilot program," his voice strained at the whisper, filled with all those raw emotions I knew so well.

Another secret.

"Tae Kwon Do makes me feel in control." The reason I pushed my body so hard. The reason I climbed that stupid rope. Did I enjoy it? I don't know. I felt powerful in a world that left me powerless. That's what I liked.

My secret.

"You are so strong, Meg." His truth, not mine. "It's what I first noticed about you. You swung into my program on the attack, determined to beat this injury."

I closed my eyes. "I tried to control it." Because that's what I did.

"Physical therapy used to be my apology to the world for my brother. A penance for someone who still doesn't care."

His.

I leaned towards him. "But it isn't now, is it?"

He reached for my hand again. This time our fingers twined. I watched them, links between our secrets. "No. It isn't now. Brother Childress led me to the Lord and showed me the lies I'd told myself. The lies Satan let me live. Everyone fails, Meg. Everyone hurts. Everyone feels like Job at one time or another." He glanced at my arm. "Those are lies he tells you. Chaos, not control."

"I can't stop," I whispered. Truth.

"No." He agreed. For the second time that night, I almost got whiplash trying to see into his eyes. To see what he really meant. "Not alone, Meg."

"Then how?" I begged, pleading with him to have the answers.

He shook his head. "I don't know."

I put my head on his shoulder and cried. I got this feeling that he did know, he just wouldn't tell me. Maybe I knew his answer and he knew I didn't want to hear the pat answer of 'with God', but he didn't push it. Just let me cry.

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