"He's going to turn you into a proper man. Like he did with my grandfather. Like he's doing with Manny. He tried with my uncle Mitchell, but he's too stubborn."
"And I'm docile?"
"No. You're just... different." She looked at me. "You're the only one who doesn't need to be turned into anything. You just need to be."
I didn't say anything. Words stuck in my throat, not because I didn't know how to respond, but because anything I said would break the spell.
On the strip, Manny appeared in his fencing uniform. It was white, immaculate. His mask hung from his hand like an accessory from a swashbuckling movie. Jay stood beside him, with an expression I hadn't seen before: pride. Pure pride, unfiltered, without the irony he always put between himself and the world.
"That's my boy," he said loudly. Manny straightened up, adjusting his mask. And then, he began to fight.
11:00 AM - The First Round
Manny was good. Not good for an eleven-year-old who had never played a sport. He was good, period. His foil moved with a precision I didn't expect. His feet danced on the strip with an elegance that seemed rehearsed.
"How does he do that?" Luke asked, mouth full of potato chips.
"It's strategy," Alex said without looking up from her book. "Fencing is like chess. You have to think before you move. Anticipate. Calculate."
"Like robotics," I said.
"Like robotics," she repeated, and for the first time, she smiled.
On the strip, Manny scored a point. Then another. Then another. The crowd applauded, and Jay jumped from his seat as if he'd won the lottery.
"That's it, champion! That's how it's done!"
Gloria, from the other side of the strip, smiled with a calm that contrasted with Jay's euphoria. But in her eyes was something I hadn't seen before: pride. Not for the victory, but for the way Manny moved, for the confidence he had found in himself.
"You know?" Alex said, closing her book. "Manny was always the weird one. The one who wrote poems. Who wore ponchos. Who declared his love to sixteen-year-old girls. And now..." She pointed to the strip. "Now he's the best at something. My grandfather is proud of him. Gloria is proud of him. And everyone looks at him like he's... special."
"And that bothers you."
"It doesn't bother me. It's..." She paused. "It's strange. Because I was always the special one. The smart one. The one with good grades. The one who was going to be somebody. And now Manny has this, and I..." She shrugged. "I'm just the one with good grades."
"And that's nothing?"
"No. It's... it's the only thing."
On the strip, Manny won the round. The crowd roared. Jay hugged Gloria. Luke threw his potato chips in the air.
And I, who had spent years watching Alex from a distance, understood something I hadn't understood before. It wasn't just that she wanted to be seen. It was that she wanted to be seen for who she was, not for what she did.
"You're not just your grades," I said. "You never were."
"Then what am I?"
"My best friend. The person who taught me to draw. Who calibrated a robotic arm without ever having done it before. Who writes poems about cracks and windows and doesn't show them to anyone because she's afraid they're not good enough."
She looked at me.
"You read my poems?"
"I read all of them. And they're good. They're better than good. They're yours."
She didn't say anything. But her hand found mine in the darkness of the bleachers and stayed there, not moving, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Manny had advanced to the final. In the rest area, the family had gathered around him as if he were a king. Jay patted his back. Gloria adjusted his mask. Phil filmed everything with an energy he wasn't paid for.
And in a corner, Mitchell and Claire were arguing in low voices, with gestures that betrayed years of accumulated resentment.
"What's going on with them?" I asked.
"My uncle Mitchell is jealous," Alex said, her voice flat. "My grandfather was never like that with him. Never encouraged him in anything. And now he sees he can do it with Manny, and he wonders why he didn't do it with him."
"And your mom?"
"My mom is trying to fix it. As always. But my uncle doesn't want to be fixed. He wants my grandfather to apologize."
"And your grandfather?"
"My grandfather doesn't know how to apologize. It's his specialty."
In the corner, the argument escalated. Mitchell walked away, arms crossed, jaw tight. Claire followed him with an expression mixing frustration and tenderness.
"I'm going to see what's going on," Alex said, standing. "Stay. Manny needs someone to watch him without judging."
And she left, leaving me alone with the champion.
Manny sat in a chair, his foil resting on his knees, his mask at his feet. He saw me approach and smiled.
"My mom called you," he said.
"Yeah. She wanted me to come."
"She likes you. She says you're a good kid. That you have good manners and you're going to be a good man."
"And what do you think?"
Manny looked at me. In his eyes was something I didn't expect: a wisdom that didn't match his eleven years.
"I think Alex looks at you the way I used to look at Brenda Feldman. But you don't write her poems. You're just there. Waiting."
"And is that good?"
"It's better than poems. Poems scare people. I saw what happened. And being there... that's harder. But it's truer."
I didn't know how to respond. Words stuck in my throat, not because I didn't know what to say, but because Manny was right.
"Are you going to beat that girl?" I asked, changing the subject.
Manny looked at his foil. "I'm scared."
"Of losing?"
"Of winning. If I beat a girl, I'm going to be the one who beat a girl. And if I lose, I'm going to be the one who lost to a girl. There's no way to come out ahead."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
If you enjoyed it, leave a Review and Power Stones.
✅ Early access to 22 new chapters
Join LEGEN - DARY Level on Patreon
👉 https://[email protected]/cw/Day_bluefic
@=a
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Manny was good. Really good. He won round after round.
Jay jumped out of his seat like he'd won the lottery.
And Alex held Leo's hand in the bleachers. And didn't let go.
What was more exciting? Manny's points or Alex holding Leo's hand? ⚔️🤺❤️
Thanks to everyone who reads, follows the story, and supports with power stones. You're champions! 💎🙌
Comment, follow, and support with power stones. 🏠⚔️💫