Oxygen

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Oxygen

Excerpt from novel

Body Of Gold

Chelsea Cobb stepped into her assigned ring at the Black Belt National Championships. Her nerves possessed her six-foot tall body. Her internal organs performed ninja rolls while she waited for the sparring portion of the competition to begin.

Troy Camden, her hot boyfriend and Taekwondo instructor, had trained her extraordinarily well for this moment. A first-place finish would belong to him as much as it would belong to her. Chelsea thoroughly enjoyed Troy’s tutelage. He showed the patience of a saint. He managed to critique her in such a helpful, non-critical manner. She never took offense if she screwed up and he noticed. She simply relied on his outstanding teaching methods without question, without argument. He’d won the title of World Champion five times for a reason.

Chelsea searched the arena for Troy. She spotted him two rings away. Talking to other guys, probably friends of his, he pointed in her direction. Then all of the men turned to her.

Troy’s friends nodded with quick approval. Troy obviously mentioned he prepared to watch his girlfriend compete for the first time.

Great. No pressure. Not only did Chelsea need to impress the judges, now she also needed to impress Troy and his friends.

Thinking her nerves couldn’t feel any worse, she watched the other 1^st degree, Black Belts to gauge her competition. The sight shocked her. All of the other women were nowhere near as good as she. Their kicks weren’t as high, and their stances were not as deep as hers. Maybe these women weren’t trying their best during the warm up. But watching them made Chelsea feel infinitely better. She could do this. She had it in her.

Since she didn’t want to practice her sparring combinations in front of the other women, she’d warm her muscles. The thought of standing here for another minute drove her insane. She started with hamstring stretches and leg swings. Then she dropped down into a perfect center split. She went all the way down to the ground and extended her legs out at ninety-degree angles from her torso.

When all of the other women noticed her with disbelief, Chelsea decided to step it up a notch to throw them all off their game. She slowly laid her chest down to the ground. Then she folded her arms and rested her cheek on her hands, looking as if she prepared to take a nap instead of competing in the Black Belt National Championships.

“Show off,” Troy quipped from a few feet away.

She smiled at his teasing. “There you are.”

“I wanted to come over and wish you good luck, Darlin‘. You’re going to win First Place, easily.” His words sounded prophetic.

Just seeing him gave her the extra confidence she needed to get through this. His presence at her side felt like oxygen in her lungs. She needed it, just as she needed him—to live and breathe.

She wasn’t nervous knowing he intended to watch her compete from only a few feet away. She always performed her best in front of him because she constantly strived to impress him. He motivated her to do her best and push herself to her limit and beyond. In fact, she wanted to impress him more than the judges.

“Remember everything I taught you, Chelsea—distance, timing, combinations, and stay light on your feet.” Troy prepared Chelsea for her upcoming sparring match.

“Yes, sir.” Chelsea nodded. She felt nervous about this leg of the competition. Of the three events—Forms, Sparring, and Weapons—she dreaded this one the most.

In class, they normally practiced sparring for twenty minutes straight. She rotated sparring partners with everyone in her Black Belt class for ninety seconds each, only stopping long enough to change partners and bow for courtesy and respect. But this time she sparred for points. This was real.

Although she sparred at Black Belt testing, this felt completely different than point sparring. Testing sparring only involved light and accidental contact. Point sparring involved scoring three points against your opponent before they scored three against you.

“Remember, a punch or kick to the middle is one point, a kick to the head is two points, a jump superman punch to the chest is three points, and a jump-kick to the head is three points. Whatever you do, don’t punch your opponent in the head because the judges will instantly disqualify you. The first competitor to reach three points wins the match,” Troy said.

“I wonder who they’ll pair me against. I hope it’s someone barely lingering in the thirty to thirty-nine-year-old category,” Chelsea confessed. Since Chelsea recently joined this age bracket less than two weeks ago, she knew sparring with a thirty-nine-year-old offered her a tremendous advantage.

“I’ll find out. Remember, keep your hands up and just one jump kick to the head will win the match, like that.” Troy snapped his fingers.

Troy walked to the judges and shook each of their hands. He knew all three of them from a lifetime of competing. He studied their list, shocked when he read the pairings for this category. The ATA partnered Miss Cobb with Miss Rathika.

“Interesting,” he said.

Troy turned and gazed at the competitors huddled together in the competition ring. When his eyes fell on Miss Rathika, it didn’t surprise him to find her gawking at him in a scary stalker sort of way. He definitely didn’t need Miss Rathika to complain of favoritism, so he made it a point to give her the same pep talk he’d just delivered to Chelsea.

“Hello, Miss Rathika, are you ready?” Troy shook her hand. He felt repulsed by her touch when she took advantage of the skin contact and rubbed her grimy paws on his chest. He immediately backed away to clearly indicate his lack of interest.

“Hello, Mr. Camden, of course I’m ready, no thanks to you.” Miss Rathika’s perturbed tone attested for her jealousy towards Chelsea.

“Excuse me?” Troy asked, shocked by Miss Rathika’s rudeness.

“I’m still your student, too. I deserve as much coaching as Chelsea Cobb.”

“Of course, you do. In fact, you need more help than Chelsea. She’s perfect,” Troy said before he lectured the same pointers to Miss Rathika.

“Thank you, sir.” She bowed.

“Good luck, Miss Rathika. And watch out for Chelsea’s long legs when you spar against her. She holds a huge advantage over you.” Troy lowered his gaze to Miss Rathika’s short, pudgy legs. He knew this bitch didn’t stand a chance against his girl, Chelsea.

Troy turned and walked away from Chelsea’s unfortunate sparring partner. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought—two of the women he’d taught would fight each other at Black Belt Nationals, and he held a front row seat. He only wished he had popcorn.

“Great news, Chelsea, the judges paired you with Miss Rathika. She doesn’t stand a chance against those powerful, long legs of yours. Remember to use them to your advantage.” Troy stood by Chelsea and watched Miss Rathika fume with jealousy.

“Yeah! It’s the best news. That cougar is almost forty. I’ve kicked her ass in Taekwondo class for as long as I can remember,” Chelsea said. This news boosted her confidence tremendously. She could win this match in her sleep.

“Good luck, Darlin‘.” Troy quickly kissed Chelsea’s cheek once he ascertained Miss Rathika’s back was turned.

“Miss Rathika and Miss Cobb to the center of the ring.” The center judge announced the start of the sparring competition.

Chelsea walked to the center ring, standing tall and proud. Miss Rathika sashayed to the opposite star on the mat. Chelsea stood a foot taller than her opponent. Chelsea stared into the dark eyes of Miss Rathika’s bronzed, Middle-Eastern complexion through the clear, plastic face mask.

“Cha ryuht,” the judge shouted the Korean Taekwondo command for attention.

Chelsea raised her arms and slapped them hard and strong against her sides.

“Kyung nae,” the judge commanded to bow.

Chelsea and Miss Rathika bowed to one another.

“Now shake hands with your partner,” the judge ordered.

Chelsea complied and shook Miss Rathika’s reluctant hand. She felt more confident than nervous. She took a deep breath, inhaling precious oxygen into her lungs. Breathing proved another crucial component of sparring.

“Sparring stance, begin,” the judge said.

Chelsea immediately bounced up and down to stay light on her feet. She bounced from side-to-side, never taking her eyes off of Miss Rathika’s. Chelsea lunged forward, stomped her right foot, and faked a blow to the chest.

Miss Rathika fell for the ruse. She planted her feet to the ground and instinctively moved her hands to her chest to block the blow, leaving her head vulnerable to a kick.

Chelsea jumped high into the air, rotated her hips, and delivered a perfect jump-round-kick to Miss Rathika’s head. She watched in amazement as her opponent’s face-mask flew into the air.

“Break, three points to Miss Cobb, she wins the match,” the judge said. And the sparring competition ended, just like that.