Free Maybe I Will by Laurie Gray Page A

to do!”
    â€œI want you to think for yourself, Amy. Look at the list of questions. See number 12?”
    Amy nodded. “It says, ‘What is Fair?’”
    Mr. Conaway smiled. “There you go.”
    The class laughed and started whispering back and forth about the different questions. I scanned through the list: “What isGood?” “What is Freedom?” What is Life?” “What is Integrity?” Finally, I saw one that captured my attention. “What is Character?”
Character is whatever role I choose to play. There you go. That one should be easy enough for a character actor who knows how to stay in character.
    Aside from that single assignment, my spring break was all about taekwondo. Sarah Hensley and Dustin Fairbanks would be out of town all week, so Hamilton wasn’t planning any serious rehearsals without Wendy and Captain Hook. Of course, we could always come in several hours a day to work on sets or to go over our part with Hamilton privately. And he encouraged the understudies to work on their parts together if they were around. My plan was to follow Shanika’s lead. If she found time to go in, I would too. If not, then so be it.
    That Friday when school let out, Dad took me to my first taekwondo class and got me signed up for the spring break camp. It sounds crazy, but the moment I stepped into the Washington do-jahng, I felt safer than I’d felt in weeks. I had to swallow hard to keep back the tears. Shanika introduced me to her father and then showed me around the facility while my dad completed all of the paperwork and paid for the course.
    There was a black belt class in progress, and I watched as they did punches and kicks with great energy and precision. They were mostly teenagers, but several younger kids and adults were mixed in as well. Age, height and athletic ability didn’t seem to have anything to do with who stood where. Without warning, the whole class gave a loud shout in unison that startled me so badly I jumped and yelled, too.
    Shanika laughed, but not in a mean way. “That’s a kiyap. It’s part of the forms. You’ll get used to it.”
    She picked out a uniform for me and then showed me how to tie the belt once I had it on. She taught me how to bow when you enter and leave the do-jahng and also when you step on and off the mat where class is held. Then she had me take a seat while she joined the black belt class.
    The whole class stood at attention while Shanika introduced me. “This is my friend, Sandy.” The entire class turned and bowed in my direction and then shouted, “ATA.” From all of the signs and posters I gathered that stood for the American Taekwondo Association. Then she turned to me. “Sandy, this is the white belt form you’ll be learning at the rank-advancement camp.” She turned back to the class and ordered them all to do the same form.
    It was like synchronized martial arts. People in all sizes, shapes and colors moved together with a shared confidence. All wore perfectly pressed white uniforms with patches on their sleeves and black belts wrapped around their waists. I looked down at my white belt—white for purity. There was a poster on the wall explaining all of the different color belts and their meaning. Beside the white belt were the words, “Pure and without the knowledge of Songahm Taekwondo. As with the Pine Tree, the seed must now be planted and nourished to develop strong roots.”
    Shanika called for everyone to put on their sparring gear. A vast array of padding, helmets, and mouth guards exploded from behind the counter and loud music blared from a boom box. As I watched the students pair up and begin sparring I suddenly imagined myself sparring Aaron.
So much padding and protection. It would be almost impossible for him to slip his hand . . .
I shuddered at the thought.
    I swallowed the panic and blinked back the tears.
Take a drink. Don’t