Relax, I'm A Ninja (2 page)

I tried to keep my expression even. Marty was the only other ninja training in “competition class” with me. He was good, but I could beat him easily. Had she stayed late one day and seen us sparring?

“I’ve always wanted to ask,” she continued. “Why is it that we’re the same belt, but you get to be in the competition class and I don’t?”

Great, she was already picking apart my cover in front of my friends, though I had to admit I was starting to see why Dad wanted her. Amy was clearly observant. I almost invited her right there, but then Eddie and Stu exchanged glances that said, “Since when do they talk so much?”

Inviting Amy would have to wait. I laughed, hoping to dissolve their curiosity. “You think my dad explains his class assignment decisions with me? I’m, uh, gonna get dressed.”

I headed to my room, which was about two closets big and plastered with anime and video game posters. I liked things neat, so my bed was made and not a single piece of clothing sat on the beige carpet.

After getting dressed, I found everyone crammed around our little table ready for dinner. With Amy around, I wasn’t looking forward to playing Dungeons & Dragons all of a sudden. It’s not that she wasn’t pretty or nice. As far as nerd girls went, she ranked in the top three for sure. Maybe recruiting her wouldn’t have bothered me if I didn’t know Eddie was in love with her. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but it felt like I’d be betraying my best friend by spending so much time with her.  

“So, do you and Amy see each other at karate a lot?” Eddie asked as I took an empty seat. It was like he was reading my mind. He
had
gone as Gandalf for Halloween last week, but he looked a lot rounder than most depictions of the gray wizard and his staff was just for show. Or so I thought.

“Not really,” I said, because Eddie would flip if he knew I spent more time with Amy than he did. Even if there was nothing between us to even call friendship.

“Doesn’t sound like it,” Stu said. He was a funny-looking guy with blond hair, freckles, and a hundred and thirty pounds spread over six feet. He went as a Ring Wraith, and people did a double take to make sure he wasn’t the real thing.

“Oh, I see him every day,” Amy said. “He’s just too cool to talk to me, even though he
should
be in my class like the other brown belts.”

I forced my eyes not to bug out. What was with the sudden show of bitterness?

Eddie tilted his head. “Is it because you’re the owner’s son?”

I had to play it cool, even though it pissed me off to think they were questioning my abilities. My cover was everything, and I couldn’t risk even the smallest crack no matter how much I wanted to tell them I was the best fighter at the dojo. “I’ll be testing for black belt soon. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Amy pursed her lips, not buying it. Then out of nowhere she threw one of her chopsticks at me. I instinctively dodged it and then cursed myself.

“Whoa, nice!” Stu laughed. “You’ll be black belt in no time.”

I shrugged, unable to answer because I couldn’t get over the fact that Amy had decided to test my skills instead of accepting that I got special preference from my Dad. Did she really suspect I was better than I let on? She’d tear my cover apart if she kept pushing. Amy opened her mouth and I worried about what question I’d have to field next. Luckily, Mom came over and set down the little bowls of miso soup.

“
Itadakimasu
!” we all said. Stu and Eddie had been over for dinner enough to know that was what we said, though not enough to say it right. It always sounded more like “eat the rocky moss.” Amy, on the other hand, knew exactly how things went because her parents were Japanese, too.

“So good, Mrs. Ito,” Eddie said after his second plate of chicken.

“No, no.” Mom never accepted a compliment, even though she loved to get them.  

“Where’s Todd?” I asked. The guy was usually late, but not this late.

“His dad dragged him off to a basketball game or something. He said he’d try to get here after,” Stu said.

“Can’t really start without him.” That was the one frustrating thing about D&D. If someone couldn’t make it, you couldn’t play. Eddie, our hardcore Dungeon Master, didn’t run the campaign with fewer than four heroes. We always had to pick up an extra person we didn’t know well. It was usually some guy from school, but I guess Eddie got gutsy and went for Amy.

“He’ll show,” Eddie said.

Todd didn’t show, even though it took us forever to make characters since Amy hadn’t played before. I tried to find a discreet way to ask her about competition class, but I couldn’t risk it. She’d already raised too many questions in front of my friends.  

It was approaching midnight, and I was bored out of mind. Stu tried calling Todd, but he didn’t answer. Amy decided to leave, probably because we were so boring.

Eddie groaned. “That was my chance with her. Stupid basketball game.”

“The game should be over by now,” I said.

“Maybe he fell asleep?” Stu offered.

Eddie shook his head. “That is unacceptable.”

We had to come up with something entertaining to do, or at least more exciting than watching TV or letting Eddie go on about how Amy touched his wrist. No matter what it was, the first thing out of someone’s mouth would happen. Eddie started laughing. By the way his beady eyes glinted, I could tell he’d come up with some kind of a plan.

“What?” Stu asked.

“Wouldn’t it be awesome if Tosh spied on Courtney with his ninja powers? Then he could tell us what color bra she wears.”

I gulped down the paranoia. Eddie couldn’t know I was a ninja just because of what Amy had said, could he? No. Ninjas were mainstream entertainment, that was all. And it was no secret that some forms of ninjutsu still existed, though most people assumed it stayed in karate studios and on movie screens. He had to be joking.

“Dude, you should,” Stu said.

“No way.” It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see Courtney Petersen in her bra, I just didn’t want to be that pathetic. In seventh grade I had been the stereotypical dork with a crush on the hot cheerleader. Spying on her would prove that I was
still
that dork. I liked to think I’d come a long way in four years, even though I still played D&D on Friday nights with my buddies. Now we had a girl with us, even if it was Amy. We were moving up.

“C’mon, I dare you,” Eddie said.

Ah, the dare. If I didn’t accept the challenge (not really a challenge since I could climb her drain pipe one-handed), they’d call me a chicken. I was no chicken. “Fine.”

There wasn’t anything else to do. I figured I could climb up, take a quick peek through her window, and tell them what they wanted to hear. I could even lie if her blinds were closed, like they’d know. It would be easy.

2

It was darker than normal outside. Usually the fog seemed to carry light in it, even if you couldn’t see through it. But that night it was clear and moonless and black, almost making it harder to see because I wasn’t used to it. There were shadows everywhere, the kind that made me want to hide and sneak around.

“What do you think Courtney wears to bed?” Stu asked as we walked.

Eddie laughed. “Doesn’t matter, she looks hot in everything.”

“Yeah.” I shoved my hands in my jacket pockets. If I had to bet, I would have guessed something pink, probably girly, and yet sexy at the same time.

I hated to admit I was kind of an expert on Courtney Petersen. It wasn’t like I’d had much choice in seventh grade. I was four-foot-eleven back then. There were exactly three girls my height or shorter at age twelve: Maddie Reynolds, Amy Sato, and Courtney Petersen. Of course my raging hormones would pick the blonde goddess.  

Back in the day, the guys and I would casually ride our bikes by her stately Victorian mansion. (I realized that was creepy about halfway through eighth grade.) That’s why I knew exactly how to get to her house in Pacific Heights, which wasn’t that far from our dojo.

“You guys stay at the park, okay? I’ll find you when I’ve got the info,” I said to Eddie and Stu as we huddled in the cool November air. I couldn’t risk them seeing what I could really do.

“I want to watch you hop the fence at least,” Stu said.

I rolled my eyes. “All right, but then go to the park. No witnesses.”

Stu and Eddie nodded, their faces pasted with goofy smiles. I couldn’t back out now, as much as I wanted to.

So I tried to look normal as I pulled myself up and over Courtney’s dark wooden fence. But when I landed without a sound on the other side, I was free to be myself. Adrenaline pulsed through me. It had been a while since my dad had taken me on a mission. My ninja reflexes wanted to be used.

Sticking to the darkest shadows, I pushed my back to the house. Nothing moved in their small, neat yard. Only a slight breeze rattled the trees. The lights weren’t on downstairs, but a yellow square lit part of the lawn from the second story.

Once I found the perfect bush to crouch under, I made for it, timing my rustling with a gust of wind. I looked to the lighted window and smiled—it was open just a crack.

I held my breath. Courtney’s perfect figure passed by the bay window, and she paused briefly to look out. Her hot pink bra straps shone under a black tank top. The light went out.

I could have left then; I’d gotten the information Stu and Eddie wanted. But I didn’t. With the opportunity staring me right in the face, I couldn’t deny that I was still attracted to Courtney and too curious for my own good. I decided to climb up and see what she looked like sleeping. Not like she would know.

Besides, the house had so many carved embellishments it begged to be climbed. I hadn’t scaled something that fun since my dad and I broke into Alcatraz (for training purposes only).

Waiting for a good gust of wind, I left the bush and gripped the thick drainpipe. I pulled myself up past the first story and onto the trim by the bay window.

The window didn’t cooperate, though. The glass reflected light from a neighboring house, so I couldn’t see her from where I was. I dropped below the pane and swung to the other side. After pulling myself level with the window again, I carefully put my finger on it to test the resistance.

Before I could process what was happening, a hand pushed the window wide open and grabbed my neck. I flew to the floor, my head hitting hard as I went for the hand. And then she put me in a blood choke—which
almost
makes you pass out but keeps you conscious enough to hear and kind of talk.

“Akuma!
Shi-ne
!” a high-pitched voice cried. I wouldn’t have believed it was Courtney speaking perfect Japanese if she wasn’t sitting on top of me. Had she actually ripped me from her windowsill, thrown me to the ground, and told me she would kill me? The blade hovering a millimeter from my face said so, though my pride tried to deny it.

“Huh?” I looked into her fierce face. I should have been freaked out, but I couldn’t get over the fact that Courtney Petersen was sitting
on top of me
in nothing but a low-cut tank top and those tiny cheerleading shorts. That, and I was surrounded by pink bright enough to show in the dark. It didn’t feel threatening.

She flinched when she recognized me. “Toshiro Ito?”

“Yeah.” I was embarrassed to admit my identity, but it was better than dead by a lot. She pulled down the collar of my shirt, as if she was looking for something. Weird. When she didn’t find it, she released her hold and stood up.

“Spying, Tosh? Can you be more pathetic?” She sheathed the sword that had to have come from Japan. It was a typical
ninjato
—a sword shorter than a samurai blade, but longer than a dagger.

I did feel like a total loser, but I wasn’t about to admit that. Not when she’d just thrown me to the floor. She took me off guard, that was all. I stood up. “Since when do you speak perfect Japanese?”

She looked to the side. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, so you didn’t just call me a demon and say you were going to kill me?”

“No, I didn’t.” She put her hands on her perfect hips, but suddenly I couldn’t muster any nice feelings for her. I didn’t like being lied to.

“So, you just guessed on that blood choke, too?”

“Blood choke?” She looked down for a split second. Another lie. She knew way more than she claimed, and I decided to prove it.

I lunged at her with a punch to the right—she blocked it hard and attacked. I bent out of the way and pushed her to the ground with my foot. She grunted, but was immediately on her feet again.

She smiled a bit, which made me smile. She would be fun to fight.

“See, I think you know
exactly
what I’m talking about,” I said. Courtney was a ninja. I could feel it, though I could hardly believe it.

“I really don’t, and you’d better remember that.” She sprang at me so fast I barely had time to react. Though I blocked, she pushed me all the way to the open window with her force alone. The moonlight shone on her angry face. A slight bruise colored her left eye, and that wasn’t all.

I pushed back her hair, revealing the smear of blood on her neck. She must have missed washing it off. “Who hit you?”

Her face tightened, and she let out a wry laugh. “If you don’t know, you don’t want to.”

She kicked me hard, and I went flying out the window. A normal person would have panicked, but I’d been trained in free falling since I was seven. I turned in mid-air to prepare for the impact. Rolling to absorb the force, I faced the window. It was shut, and she wasn’t there. Since I just got beat, I figured it was better to leave before I made a bigger fool of myself.

As I walked to the park to pick up Stu and Eddie, my mind reeled. Every detail was clear as day, but my brain refused to accept it as truth. Not only had I gotten owned by another ninja (something that didn’t happen unless I sparred with my dad), but it was Courtney freaking Petersen. How was I supposed to handle this information? Telling Dad I got beat up by a ditsy cheerleader wasn’t appealing. Okay, it was downright mortifying.