Split Victory

© 2026 Zoe Taylor

“Oh hey,” Tiffani said, holding up her phone. “Did you see the drama over Morgan?” she asked, finally using her real name instead of just calling her ‘the tiger’ for a change.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t worry about it,” Mary Lynn said as she threw the car into reverse and backed out of the parking lot. “It’s going to be a real media shitshow when Amanda gets through with them, bullying a 14 year old is a new low for Bullock.”

“Wait, who?” Tiffani asked.

“Who who?” Mary Lynn said. “Bull-crock?”

“No, Amanda, doofus,” Tiffani laughed. “You don’t mean Amanda Miller, do you?”

---

Wednesday, 3:45 P.M.
Mary Lynn pulled up to the private school in a bMW that positively would not have looked out of place in the slightest - 20 years ago: a 2004 BMW E-46 that once radiated the height of high class. Now, it resonated ‘30 foot blast radius waiting to happen’. The paint, a mix of primer gray, faded black, and one fender that could best be described as ‘Sat at the bottom of Lake Superior for a year’.

A sharp contrast to the humming, muffled perfection of the Land Rovers, Lexuses, and even the odd Jaguar or Tesla, the exhaust coughed and spat, the inline engine practically screaming for an oil change, to the tune of 90s industrial metal blasting over an oversized bluetooth speaker that clung precariously to the cracked, once vibrant maroon dashboard with a strip of velcro.

She, herself, looked like she had just stepped off the set of a 90s or early 2000s post punk music video, sporting a striped red-and-black long sleeve top with thumb holes looped over her thumbs, under a torn black tee shirt that had a “fem skull” - a large, white skull with a pink bow tilted to the side slightly, and acid wash light denim jeans.

The car’s front suspension wheezed and groaned as she hopped on the front and leaned back across the cracked windshield. She raised the wraparound mirrored blue Oakleys and pulled out her iPhone, the one piece of modernity in a walking anachronism and texted Tiffani. “Hey girl, your ride’s here. Ready when you are :)’

Barely thirty seconds later Tiffani appeared, wearing a traditional private school uniform that caused Mary Lynn’s jaw to drop for just a moment. Before she could say a word though, a school security guard approached.

“Excuse me,” the man said gruffly. “You can’t park this... thing here.”

“She’s with me,” Tiffani spoke up. The words echoed louder than the gunshot crack of the backfiring engine moments before, despite her cordial, casual tone.

“Oh!” the security guard said as he spun on a heel and shifted from grumpy to apologetic in less than a heartbeat. “I’m sorry Miss Miller. I didn’t realize. Carry on,” he said, and made himself scarce instantly. Mary Lynn watched the exchange with a smug smirk, letting the moment pass for a heartbeat before she started laughing.

“Sweet mother of jailbait,” she said. Tiffani laughed.

“What? This is just my normal school uniform,” she said and did a little pirrhoette, causing the pleated skirt to flare just the tiniest bit.

“Don’t tease me,” Mary Lynn groaned.

“Sorry,” Tiffani giggled as she slid into the passenger seat, a crisscross of cracked leather and neon electric blue duct tape. “Nice car, Em,” she said, genuinely admiring of the beaten up clunker.

“You like?” Mary Lynn said. “I just pulled the old girl from a junk yard last month. Liberty’s helping me get her street legal again, but I’m keeping the body as is.”

“Oh hey,” Tiffani said, holding up her phone. “Did you see the drama over Morgan?” she asked, finally using her real name instead of just calling her ‘the tiger’ for a change.

Because Tiffani attended a completely different school, a Chicago North Shore preparatory academy where even being a janitor required extensive background checks and even more extensive training, vs. Morgan’s upper west side public school, she was largely oblivious to just how deep the rabbit hole went.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t worry about it,” Mary Lynn said as she threw the car into reverse and backed out of the parking lot. “It’s going to be a real media shitshow when Amanda gets through with them, bullying a 14 year old is a new low for Bullock.”

“Wait, who?” Tiffani asked.

“Who who?” Mary Lynn said. “Bull-crock?”

“No, Amanda, doofus,” Tiffani laughed. “You don’t mean Amanda Miller, do you?”

“The same,” Mary Lynn said. “Why?”

“She’s my Mom,” Tiffani shrugged.

“Ohhhh holy crap. Are you serious?” Mary Lynn said. “Does Liberty know? No she has to know. Oh man that complicates things.”

“No it doesn’t,” Tiffani said, rolling her shoulders. “I mean yeah she’s a potential rival, in the unlikely event that I can beat out 64 other girls for our division, probably including Liberty if she enters. But she’s worked her ass off to get to the number one seed. She’s already proven she belongs where she is. It’s up to me to prove if I deserve to face off against her or not, not some transphobic prick.”

Mary Lynn smiled as she looked over at Tiffani. “You know something, Tiff? I think I’m starting to see what Liberty saw in you. I mean don’t get me wrong. I’m also impressed you lasted the full hour with us beating your ass into the mat, but there’s more to it.”

“I might be autistic,” Tiffani said matter-of-factly. “I don’t know. I’ve never been tested, and, I don’t really care. It’s never gotten in the way. I just... I know I see the world differently than most people, and I’m cool with it.”

Mary Lynn laughed. “God damn, girl.”

“What?” Tiffani asked, as they crossed over into the more industrial neighborhood of the Soaring Dragon Temple.

“Nothing. Your honesty is just refreshing, that’s all,” Mary Lynn answered. “Ready to learn to fight like an MMA champ?” she asked, as they rolled into the gravel-coated parking lot.

Unlike the sleek, modern facility of the Velocity Sparrow academy school, basically a renovated strip mall building that actually, in the era of malls on every corner, had been an upscale grocer’s, the Soaring Dragon Temple had History. It had character. It almost blended right in with the surrounding warehouses, only standing out because it towered over them, an old fire house that even still had the big garage doors where trucks would have been parked.

“I’m ready to empty my cup and then break it over someone’s head,” Tiffani said jokingly. “Liberty promised me no more hour long endurance beatdowns, so I’m holding you to that, too.”

“Oh,” Mary Lynn said cheerfully. “No worries. Tonight is all about technique, and teaching you to stop dancing like a ballerina.” She winked.

Gravel crunched under Tiffani’s private school loafers as she stepped out of the BMW and grabbed her new duffle bag - neon green with the Velocity Sparrow logo of her TKD school in sharp relief, neon blue on neon green, with “Apex” branding rather than her usual unbranded black bag. It still had Jade’s borrowed #1 seed pin stuck to it though.

Jade had insisted she keep it until the tournament, at which point Jade would accept it back, but then only because Tiffani could get in trouble for being in a 6A official area with it.

Tiffani unzipped the bag just far enough to reach her hand inside and feel around. “Gloves, guards, headgear,” she mumbled to herself, her finger brushing the protective cup. She silently noted its presence without verbally acknowledging it. That was her unfortunate secret, since she was still pre-op and needed it, even if they technically didn’t function as anything but a vestigial urine delivery system now.

She did find herself subconsciously glancing around, looking for some signs of Liberty’s black stallion of an e-bike. She felt her heart sink just the tiniest bit at realizing it wasn’t there, now, until she walked inside.

In contrast to the bright overhead fluorescent lights of the Velocity Sparrow Global Taekwondo Academy, the old fire house glowed a warm amber from its overhead bulbs in their ancient, industrial metal fixtures. The scent of cucumber water and lemon disinfectant was instead replaced by old wood - solid, hard flooring underfoot, sweat, and linament. Somewhere in the dojo, the rhythmic strike of hands or feet on a sandbag thudded dully through the entire building.

And there, against a far wall and up on a heavy duty work bench, Liberty’s bike rested in all its mechanical glory. Even in silence, the echo of Tiffani’s first meeting with Liberty, the sound of the heavy duty tires on tile, the scent of ozone and rubber in her nostrils, came flooding back.

Jade and Len were standing near a row of ancient fire engine red lockers, some chipped with age, all faded, alongside new faces Tiffani didn’t recognize - a young man in his early 20s, clean shaven, wearing a lightweight micromesh sleeveless top and loose fitting pants, and a woman wearing a fitted sports bra that showed off her washboard abs, along with tight aerobic leggings that allowed for maximum flexibility. On her feet, she wore soft soled footpads. Liberty stood in horse stance at the center of the dojo practicing a slow, fluid kata, and the faint scent of roses began to waft under Tiffani’s nose when she got closer to her.

There were no soft rubber mats in place, just markers on the ground, although, there were mats rolled up, lying in piles in the far corner.

Realizing that everyone else was barefoot even before Mary Lynn could move to take off her own scuffed platform shoes, Tiffani stopped and stepped out of her loafers, picking them up. Without breaking her stride, Liberty spoke up. “You can change out of the schoolgirl Barbie look in the back locker room. Mary Lynn knows the way. Just remember to check your ego at the door.”

Mary Lynn patted Tiffani’s shoulder as they walked toward the back. “That wasn’t Liberty being an asshole, by the way. That’s literally the dojo’s motto. She repeats it to herself whenever she enters, and so does Coach Styles. Oh, hey Amber,” Mary Lynn said as they entered the girls’ locker room area, itself as aged and weathered as the main dojo.

Amber was sitting on a bench dressed in her black gi and completely drenched in sweat, drinking from a Soaring Dragon Temple branded water bottle. She, Tiffany surmised, was the one she had heard hitting the bag earlier, since the dojo had gone quiet for the last minute or so. Amber glanced up and smiled as if apologizing for even being here.

“Hi Emmie-chan. Don’t worry, I won’t be here long.”

Mary Lynn shrugged her shoulders as she left Tiffani to get her equipment sorted, sitting down next to Amber. “You know just because we call ourselves the Out group, doesn’t mean you have to act like we’re outcasts,” she teased. Amber’s head jerked up, sending her blonde ponytail flying back over her shoulder and cascading down her back. Tiffani tried her best not to eavesdrop as she disappeared into a toilet stall to change.

“What?! No, Emmie, I’d never-”

Mary Lynn laughed softly. “Relax Ami-chan. I’m just messing with you. Seriously girl, you’ve got to stop worrying about what Liberty thinks of you. Trust me, she doesn’t.”

“You mean she doesn’t still think I’m just copying her?” Amber shot back a little bitterly.

“Is... Is that what you think?” Mary Lynn asked, sounding genuinely shocked, as Tiffani pulled on her dobok and adjusted her chest protector and cup into place.

“I don’t think,” Amber said as she stood up to leave. She stopped at the door and looked back at Mary Lynn. “I know.”

“Hold up!” Mary Lynn barked, causing Tiffani to genuinely jump. Amber stopped, having just opened the door. She didn’t look back at Mary Lynn. She sighed though, shaking her head.

“Ask her yourself,” Amber said. “If you don’t believe me, ask her what she thinks of me being here.” She spun around, lowering her voice so Tiffani wouldn’t hear. “But don’t you dare ask her right now. I will never forgive you if you screw Tiffani over because of my family drama.”

“Whoa, okay, I won’t,” Mary Lynn said, holding up her hands defensively in front of her. “I’ll talk to Len about it after we drop everyone off, okay? She’s known Liberty longer than I have. She’ll know what to do.”

“I’m not holding my breath, and I suggest you don’t either. The tiger doesn’t change her stripes.” Amber said coldly, and Tiffani heard the door slam. She took that as her cue that it was safe to step out. Mary Lynn turned to her, looking sheepish.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“Yeah, me too,” Tiffani said. “I’m sorry they’re going through this. It would kill me inside if I thought my sister hated me like they do.”

“I,” she hesitated, “I don’t think they hate each other,” Mary Lynn said, shaking her head. “I just think... Liberty’s thing is Kenpo, like her mom. She eats, sleeps, breathes and lives Kenpo. Amber is more like, well, it’s not the main driving force in her life, you know? It’s not her identity.”

“No, I get it,” Tiffani said. “I tried making Taekwondo my whole life for awhile, and it didn’t leave me much room for anything else beyond a kukkiwon gold star and a completely empty social life. Anyway, let’s get this over with.”

Mary Lynn squeezed her shoulder. Tiffani paused, glancing at Mary Lynn. She half expected a longwinded lecture or something, but Mary Lynn just gave her a mischievous grin. “Just remember why you’re here, yeah? It’s not about the trophies, it’s about Tiffani Sterling.”

“Sterling,” Tiffani half chuckled. She wore the ‘warrior name’ like a shield for so long, dividing Tiffani Miller the ordinary everyday Barbie Princess living in the Dream Home, from Tiffani Sterling, TKD champion. She bumped her shoulder with Mary Lynn’s as they started walking again. “Don’t worry, ML. I’m all in it to win it.”

“Atta girl,” Mary Lynn said.

“T-Bird!” Jade called, waving Tiffani over. She still had her crutches, but she leaned less heavily on them today than the last time she’d seen her, looking even more like a coach than previously. “Tiffani Sterling, I’d like you to meet Jax Pearce and Julie ‘Hellcat’ Sloan.”

“The Jackhammer?” Tiffani almost gasped. “Dude, I caught your first UFC match last month! You were insane!”

“Thanks,” Jax grinned. “Just uh, don’t tell my trainer I’m sparring in an old firehouse. He thinks I’m at a PT retreat or whatever.”

“Yeah, same,” Julie laughed. “I’ve got four days before the WWE expects me to show up at Madison Square for my title bout against Mileena, but until then I’m on a sabbatical with my Wushu mentors or something,” she said with a conspiratorial wink.

Len spoke up as she and Mary Lynn helped Tiffani check her pads to ensure they were secure. “And here you probably thought the three of us were just calling ourselves the Out group as some kind of gay Breakfast club, huh?>” she said demurely.

“Nope,” Liberty said, and clapped her hands together, “We’re the static in the machine, the sidebands. We’re what you get when you try to force a queer peg in a round hole. We’re global, baby girl- I mean, Sterling,” she quickly corrected herself. But it was too late. The dojo fell dead silent for a heartbeat, or three in Tiffani’s case as she froze still and silent, a slow flush rising up from her neck, threatening to overtake her pale private school princess complexion.

Jax raised an eyebrow lazily, not saying a word. Mary Lynn opened her mouth to say something. Len, moving fast as lightning, went from standing still to a hand raised and covering Mary Lynn’s mouth. Mary Lynn stared down at her. Len just shook her head slowly.

“Anyway, because our pro trainers are on a tight deadline, let’s not fuck around. We can scrimmage you anytime, but right now we need to talk about the Tiger.”

“I,” Tiffani said, trying to regain her composure. “I mean you mentioned her Phantom Lead before right?” she corrected, “7 points in fifteen seconds. Even for a stop and go spar like that, that doesn’t seem physically possible,” she said, trying to recover her composure, change the subject, and Process what in the holy hell just happened, all at once.

“I can do it in 16.7,” Liberty answered. “It’s possible. It’s just extremely hard, and it’s even harder to block. Jax?”

“We call it the phantom lead for a reason,” Jax explained as he brought out a tablet with a YouTube video paused on one of Morgan’s fights while she was still in ‘boy’ mode. “ Because there’s no tell, no clue it’s coming until you’ve got a fist in your face, and in the UFC, a crimson mask. Now, I’ve slowed this down as much as the video player allows, but it’s still a blink and you miss it move.”

“It’s the kind of thing you’ll have to watch us demonstrate,” Julie chimed in, “But we want you to see her do it first.”

Tiffani bobbed her head. She wasn’t wearing her headgear yet since no official sparring or practice had begun. She was beginning to wonder if she’d even need it, although, as she felt the hard boards, no mere veneer of wood, or fake linoleum meant to look like wood, beneath her feet, she was suddenly grateful for the other padding - just in case.

“Wait, how the hell did she do that?” Tiffani asked. “One beat she’s on her mark, then one, two, three, point.”

She began to feel the blood flow returning to normal again, her cheeks no longer burning with the intensity of a white hot sun. She was beginning to feel in her element again.

“Julie?” Liberty asked. “Shall we dance?”

“Oh, I’d be honored,” Julie said playfully as she and Liberty stood, not six feet apart, or even 3. They stood just 2 feet apart, and positioned themselves so that Tiffani was at a perfect right angle, the perfect viewing angle.

“This,” Liberty said, and suddenly she was in Julie’s personal space, her open palm hovering mere inches from Julie’s tight microfiber and exposed flesh, “is a Phantom Lead at normal speed.”

Tiffani blinked, but only after Liberty had already moved. Liberty reset. Julie, Tiffani observed, however, didn’t even so much as flinch. Liberty didn’t shift her weight at all. She didn’t twitch her shoulder. She didn’t move a single muscle on her face. She just went from hands raised in a combat stance to lead strike, only now she did it at about half the normal speed.

This time, at least, Tiffani was able to follow the movement. She frowned.

“Okay,” she said, “So in Taekwondo we’re taught to be spatially aware, right? Jade, back me up here?”

“Right,” Jade said. “Taekwondo is all about maximizing point spread and keeping your opponent at leg’s length. This is what makes the Untouchable Tiger so dangerous. They don’t call her the Tiger because of her Hidden Tiger Academy dojo.”

“It’s because,” Liberty said, punctuating the point with another lead strike, this time stopping inches from Julie’s unblinking face, “She moves like a tiger and you don’t know she’s there until she’s already pounced.”

“I think she needs a personal demonstration,” Len said coyly. Tiffani’s heart skipped a beat briefly at that. Liberty shot Len a glare, who, in return, just gave her an innocent smile.

Len opened her mouth to say something else, and Mary Lynn reached a hand out, covering Len’s mouth with a smug grin as Julie handed Tiffani her neon green Apex branded headgear.

“Safety first,” Julie said. “You too, Liberty.”

“Aw Mom, do I have to?” Liberty mock whined as she walked over to one of the old fire house lockers and opened it to retrieve her headgear. She let out a sharp and sudden, genuinely terrified shriek as she jerked back her hand and slammed the locker shut. As everyone turned to see what just happened, Liberty screamed, “MARY YOU ASS!” and threw a rubber snake to the ground.

Mary Lynn looked genuinely shocked. “Uh... It wasn’t me, chief. I mean yeah that’s totally something I’d do, but not in front of the grown ups.”

“Well SOMEONE’S been in my locker,” Liberty hissed, trying to regain her composure.

“Which wasn’t locked,” Len said calmly. “It was probably just one of your teammates pranking you. Tiffani’s lesson?” she said, trying to help her friend reset. Liberty took a slow, steady, even breath and then nodded.

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry guys. I have a serious, serious snake phobia,” she said, and kicked the rubber snake with such force that it flew across the dojo and slammed against the far wall.

“Hey,” Tiffani said, trying to lighten the mood, “That’s three points.” The room fell silent again, one beat, two beats, everyone, including Liberty, burst out laughing.

“Okay,” Liberty said, still laughing, “I’m going to get right in your face, but I promise not to hit you.”

Tiffani nodded. She watched the run up, the start of the blitz. Liberty’s hand moved so fast, it was hovering inches from her chest protector, just like that. Tiffani didn’t flinch; she froze, staring at the hand as it hovered an inch from her chest. The scent hit her even through the face mask. She had smelled it before, and thought it was just burning incense or air freshener.

It was a lingering smell of roses, and it was even stronger now, on Liberty’s hand.

“Okay?” Liberty asked, pulling her hand back. “Tiff?” The scent fell away, its intensity dissipating into almost nothing again. It couldn’t be body spray. it was too light, too impermanent. Hand lotion?

“Yeah,,” Tiffani answered. She smiled. “I’m sorry, I was trying to work something out in my head, but you’re right. It’s just, there’s no way. The human eye can see at like 60 frames a second, and the hand is even faster than that. How do you counter something like that when you can’t even see it coming?”

“In due time, grasshopper,” Liberty said. “First, do you trust me>?”

“W-what?” Tiffani stammered.

“Do you trust me?” Liberty asked, taking a black strip of cloth from the locker where the snake had been waiting earlier. “I’m going to blindfold you, but if you want Jax to do this next part, since he’s an actual professional, I promise I absolutely won’t take it personally. This is strictly business, and your protection, we’re talking about.”

Tiffani slowly lifted her headgear. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said softly. “My eyes are everything in TKD.”

“That’s exactly why we need to blind you - temporarily of course,” Len said from the sidelines. Tiffani nodded.

“Alright,” she said quietly. “I trust you.

The blindfold felt rough over her skin, like it had been torn from an old, tattered gi rather than cut cleanly, but it was thick and did the job. Tiffani felt Liberty’s hands over hers, gently guiding her to slide the headgear back into place.

“It’s just me,” Julie said, and Tiffani suddenly felt bewildered. She thought for sure that it was Liberty’s hands she felt, but now she wondered if it had really been Julie’s, guiding her headgear into place so that it fit snugly without disturbing the blindfold.

“Okay,” Julie said, “She’s ready.”

“What’s that noise?” Tiffani asked. It was a kind of rhythmic whirr-whirr-whirr sound, and it was coming from two directions at once.

“Don’t think,” Liberty said. “Feel.”

Tiffani let out a sudden, startled yelp as she felt something soft, but firm, strike into her body. It hit the chest protector, and then there was a soft ‘thwang’ like sound, not quite elastic, but... rope, maybe?

“Contact,” Jax said.

“What the hell are you doing, jumping rope?” Tiffani asked.

“Focus, Barbie!” Liberty barked. Tiffani felt something graze her arm. She instinctively bounced.

“Stop bouncing!” Mary Lynn called from the sidelines. “If the Tiger sees the Sparrow take flight, she’s going to snatch you right out of the air. Pivot, girl! Swing those hips like a $20 belly dancer!”

That got a sharp, sudden laugh out of Tiffani. She held her breath and tried to focus. The arc of an object on a rope can ow!

“Stop analyzing it,” Jax said. “Feel the air around you,. Look for the void and react.”

Tiffani planted her feet, trying to resist the urge to bounce like a Taekwondo Stylist and center herself. Something shifted. She felt the skin on her neck prickle. She pivoted to the side, using her heel as the rotational point.

“There you go!” Julie said encouragingly.

“It’s me,” Liberty said as she approached Tiffani. “Let’s give you back your sight, yeah?”

She carefully removed Tiffani’s headgear and then handed it off, presumably to Julie, as she worked to untie the knot she had created to secure the blindfold. One, two, three beats. Something was wrong. Liberty should have had it untied by now. She heard an annoyed sigh from behind her, and then, she took a sharp intake of breath as she felt soft hands on her cheeks, right below the blindfold.

They belonged to someone directly in front of her. “I’m sorry,” Liberty said as she shifted her hand position, her nails pressing, not into Tiffani’s skin, but against it gently, as they found purchase underneath the cloth and lifted it. “I didn’t think I tied it that tight.”

What had been a dull amber glow now almost seemed blinding. Tiffani looked around to see Julie and Jax were coiling ropes, although Julie paused, swinging hers in a figure 8 pattern in front of and beside her to show Tiffani what she had just been smacked with. They were quite clearly meteor hammers, albeit safety hammers made of rope and soft foam.

Even so, many a novice has bruised themselves with and concussed themselves with, a practice hammer. Liberty grinned.

“Psych,” Liberty said, grinning cheekily, but it faded to something more honest and genuine as the mask slipped for a moment. “I’d never come at you with a weapon while you’re blindfolded, Barbie. I’m more likely to knock myself out with those damn things. But if you’re going to face the Tiger, I needed-” she caught herself, quickly correcting this time, “You have to be able to close your eyes and know that I - that we - won’t let you fall. You had to say it so your brain would believe it.”

“You brat!” Tiffani laughed, poking Liberty playfully. “You just wanted me to tell you I trust you, didn’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” Liberty giggled and then ducked away, showing Tiffani that she wasn’t ‘just.’ She wasn’t just a fighter. She wasn’t just a rival, and she wasn’t just a mentor. She was all of that, and she was still a normal kid like Tiffani..

After the cooldown, once the pros had taken selfies with Tiffani - a souvenir for both her, and them it seemed, Mary Lynn left to take Jade home, leaving only Len, Tiffani, and Liberty in the dojo.

Tiffani left to go back to the locker room and change, and when she returned, she heard Len and Liberty talking, so she stopped at the hallway leading in, just out of sight.

“... Still going to find whoever put that snake in my locker and make them eat it,” Liberty sighed.

“That seems like a waste of a perfectly good snake,” Len said in her usual, demure way.

“There’s no such thing as a ‘good’ snake, let alone a perfectly good one,” Liberty spat back at her. “And in front of Tiff and the pros, too. Jesus Christ, I thought I was going to die right there.”

“But you didn’t,” Len said as Tiffani heard the rhythmic sweep of an old fashioned wooden broom being pushed across the wooden floor, its bristles giving a telltale hiss that told her the owner, Len by the sound of it, was getting slowly closer to her.

“Yeah, yeah,” Liberty said. “Len, I love you, but sometimes you talk like a fortune cookie.”

The broom stopped just short of where Len would be able to see Tiffani. She turned around. “Then let me spell it out for you, Liberty. I planted the snake.”

“You... You what?” Liberty hissed. “Len how could you? You KNOW I hate snakes!”

“If you and Tiffani are going to work out, she needs to be able to trust you implicitly. She needs to see that you’re vulnerable - human. She needs to see the Liberty that I do - the girl that I know is under the iron scales.”

Tiffani’s breath caught in her throat. What did Len mean ‘if you’re going to work out’? Did she mean as mentor and student? As friends? As... No, it couldn’t be that could it? She brought her hand up, touching her own cheek where she had felt Liberty’s nails against her skin minutes earlier.

“God damit, Len,” Liberty said. Tiffani could hear the soft footfalls of Liberty approaching closer. Her first instinct was to bounce backwards, but she held her ground. She pivoted, shifting slightly more into the shadows without making a sound. “I hate it when you’re right. Just... Please, no more god damn snakes in my god damn locker?”

“Deal,” Len giggled softly. A moment later she appeared in the hallway, grinning at Tiffani. “I need to pee, I can give you a ride home after that.”

She didn’t say a word about Tiffani eavesdropping. She didn’t need to. She knew, and Tiffani knew that she knew. For all that Tiffani liked to pretend to be the mystic zen master, she was beginning to wonder if Len really was one..

Tiffani stepped out into the dojo and picked up the broom where Len had left off. She began sweeping. Liberty had already sat down on the low stool beside her bike. In her hands, she held a 15mm polished chrome exterior wrench that carried the cloudy dull patina of use and wear, where the acid in her fingers had eaten away slightly at the chrome coating. It carried a few dings, and the closed end a few scars from stubborn steel bolts.

“I thought you had to pee- Oh,” she said, “Tiff, you can leave that.” She waved a hand dismissively, her tone a far cry from the drill instructor of training, or even the queen bitch battlefield commander. This was a quiet, reflective, and vulnerable Liberty. Even the mighty salad fork couldn’t bring out this side of her.

“I don’t mind,” Tiffani said. She hadn’t changed out of her dobok, but rather, just removed her training gear. Her school uniform was still tucked away in the duffle bag that she had slugng over her shoulder now, even as she swept the dojo floor. “It’s meditative.”

“Yeah,” Liberty said. She wanted to ask how much Tiffani had heard, but some part of her was afraid of the answer, so, for now, she stayed quiet, the quiet whirr of a balanced wheel joining the rhythmic sweeping, the grumbling radiator, and a light, winter wind that caused the old fire doors to creak as they settled.