Free On the Verge (A Charmed Life Book 1) by Joseph Bonis Page B

or thirty people in such close quarters, for the heat to get uncomfortable, and students often stepped out the front door to get a couple breaths of cooler air.
    She wasn't surprised to see the man as soon as she stepped past the folding paper dividers, standing over on the far side of the street, his hands burrowed deep into the pockets of a long coat.  The Native American man from last night stared right back at her, looking slightly surprised and slightly embarrassed as she glared at him.  Dammit, this was her safe place.  She didn't want last night intruding here.
    She stepped down the few stairs to the door and threw it open, the bell ringing above her as she stepped outside, hopping a bit as the frigid concrete sucked the heat right out of her calloused feet, ever so much colder than the air itself.  “Can you say stalker, much?” she called across the street, annoyed and not caring if anyone heard her.
    “Um … I … that is …” he stammered, unsettled by that level of directness.
    “Get over here, I'm freezing!” she called, planting her fists on her hips.  Just her feet were cold, really - the day was warming up quite nicely - but she didn't feel like elaborating.  He glanced both ways along the street and hurried across as Tracy stepped back inside.
    “Stop doing that to my head,” she grumbled quietly to him as he came in through the door.
    “Do what?” he asked in confusion, also murmuring under his voice to avoid letting their voice carry to the practicing students.
    Tracy gestured helplessly at her temples.  “The thing, where it feels like someone's watching me.  It's going to give me a headache.”
    “Oh,” he murmured.  “That.  Yeah, I'm not doing that - it's happening to me, too.  You'll get used to it.”
    Tracy sighed, turning to walk up the stairs with the man walking behind her.  “I don't want to get used to it,” she murmured with exasperation, “I want it to stop.”
    “It's not going to stop, it's -” the man started.
    Tracy cut him off.  “I don't have time for this; I have to get back to class.” She pointed at one of the small, worn wooden chairs.  “Look, just sit there for a while and wait for me.”
    The Native American man perched meekly in the chair.  Tracy returned to class, giving an unnecessary tug to tighten her belt.  She was relieved to note that the pressure in her head seemed to be less - either because of his proximity or because she had interacted with him, she couldn't say.  She still had the feeling that he was there, but it was more diffuse - she could no longer point directly at him, and could ignore it much more simply, making it far easier for her to concentrate on her katas and pay attention to Grandmaster Lee.
    Class ended swiftly enough, and Tracy had actually relaxed and calmed down by the time it was over.  The ritual exercise, with its precise movements blended with a very natural feel, was extremely soothing to her state of mind.  Students bunched together a little, chatting amicably about how the class had gone, and several once again wished Tracy luck on her test next week.
    Amy stepped up to happily wish Tracy luck, along with several others, but then stayed to ask cheerfully after Tracy's jewelry.  Tracy smiled and animatedly described the bracelets and pendants she had created earlier in the week.  Amy was easy to like - bubbly and excitable, always showing enthusiasm over a wide variety of topics.  Her shoulder-length blond hair usually was up in pigtails, one of the tomboy's few girlish traits, along with a love of accessories.  Though Amy and Tracy had never met outside of Aikido, Amy had commissioned Tracy to make a few hair ornaments for her, and had found Tracy's work on sale at Ted's booth at the Renne Faire.  She was also very easy to get to talk about herself, and many a time Tracy nearly missed her bus because she was talking so long with Amy.
    Amy and Tracy chatted merrily for a bit, until Grandmaster Lee