Drowning

Bad Guys Don't Always Go To Juvie

"Ya know we could always throw you in the pool again, try and jumpstart those kicking muscles."

Miguel would have laughed if he wasn't so afraid that Johnny was serious. "I don't think that's how that works, Sensei."

They were walking back to the apartments after wrapping up an extra practice in the park. He had been training extra with his Sensei, just one on one practices to really focus on his leg muscles without having the rest of the students there. Additionally, he and Finley had been going every day that he didn't have practice, and sometimes he went back to the park with her after he had already had a practice. His leg strength had improved by leaps and bounds and he was beyond grateful to Finley for continually showing up and practicing with him, never babying him, afraid that he would hurt himself.

After taking a step back from the blowup with Johnny, he had realized where his Sensei was coming from and had forgiven him, but it was still nice to have someone who believed in him. And Finley? He didn't think she'd ever admit it, but she had caught on to everything ridiculously fast and because of the whole "it has to be better" mentality that she had, she was actually becoming a decent sparring partner. Of course no one else knew about their secret practices, not even Johnny. Naturally, the older man just assumed he was the best Sensei ever and Miguel was improving so quickly because of him.

They had been walking for a few minutes, talking karate the entire time, when Johnny suddenly cut off Miguel, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Isn't that your chick Finley?"

Miguel looked across the street to where Johnny was pointing, and sure enough, there was Finley. She sat on the curb of the sidewalk of a random side street, her head was down and her forearms rested on her knees. What really puzzled Miguel was not that she was probably a good 2 blocks from her house, nor the lack of dog, but that she wasn't wearing any shoes.

"I, uh, I'll see you later Sensei."

"Ask her to be your girlfriend while you're at it!" Johnny called after him as he walked across the street.

Miguel's brow remained furrowed as he walked up to her. A million questions running through his mind as he had no idea why she was sitting out here without shoes.

"Hey Finley." Her head snapped up at her name and he noticed a slight red tint around her eyes. He almost frowned, had she been crying? "Can I sit?"

Finley shrugged and went back to studying her hands. Miguel eased himself down beside her, leaving about a foot of space between them. He remained silent for a moment, as Finley would say- his Spidey sense was going off and he knew something was wrong. He didn't think he'd ever seen Finley this emotional before, and even still, it wasn't like she was bawling her eyes out. As he sat there, he noticed her breathing was a little shakier than normal, and every once in awhile she would rub her nose on her sleeve. Through it all, Miguel remained silent, and less than 2 minutes after he had sat down, Finley was the one who broke it.

"How was practice?" Her voice came out quieter than normal.

"It was good." Miguel matched her tone, but was treading very carefully. "Kept my balance doing a roundhouse today."

"Nice."

A smile graced Finley's face for all of a second before it vanished and she remained staring out across the street. Miguel finally felt like it was time.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Finley turned her head to look at him for the first time since he had sat down. Her brown eyes studied him, carefully weighing the pros and cons in her mind, it was not a decision to be made lightly. Without breaking her gaze from him, she spoke with perhaps the most serious voice he had ever heard her use.