Chapter 80
***Sarah pov**
My jaw dropped in stunned silence as Racy's foot connected with Chuchu's midsection, sending her crashing to the floor. The sound of her body hitting the ground was like a punctuation mark, a jarring exclamation point that seemed to echo through the room. The students's laughter burst forth like a dam breaking, a deep, throaty sound that was both startling and infectious.
Chuchu's face was a twisted mask of humiliation and rage as she struggled to rise, her movements awkward and uncoordinated. Her friends rushed to her side, but she shook them off with a snarl, her eyes blazing with fury. When she finally managed to stand, she shot me a look that could freeze blood, before limping towards Racy with a malevolent glare.
Racy watched her approach with an air of detached amusement, her eyes glinting with challenge. "You want a rematch, huh?" she taunted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, let's finish what we started. I'm more than happy to oblige." Chuchu's response was a venomous hiss, her words tumbling out in a furious torrent. "You're going to regret this day," she spat, her face twisted in malice.
Racy's laughter was like a cold breeze on a winter's night, devoid of warmth or humor. "You think you're a threat to me?" she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "You're nothing but a nuisance, a fleeting annoyance. I'm not intimidated by your empty threats." The words hung in the air like a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down.
Chuchu's face turned red with rage, but she knew she was beaten. With a final glance that promised retribution, she spat out, "This isn't over. You're going to pay for your insolence." With that, she limped away, the students parting like a curtain to let her pass.
As she disappeared into the crowd, Racy turned to me, her eyes meeting mine in a flash of connection. I felt a surge of admiration for her strength and confidence, my voice barely above a whisper. "Wow, Racy, that was impressive," I said, still reeling from the aftermath of the confrontation. "You handled her like a pro." Racy's gaze lingered on mine, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I've dealt with worse," she said, her voice low and even.
Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she continued, "I've had my fair share of confrontations, but my black belt in taekwondo usually helps me... diffuse situations." She smiled, a hint of pride in her voice. "I wasn't just showing off earlier; I genuinely believe self-defense is key. Plus, it's an excellent way to stay in shape."
Her gaze held mine, and I felt a sense of admiration for her confidence and skill. "Want to learn some moves?" she asked, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I could teach you a thing or two."
"But I have to say, your moves were impressive."
Racy's eyes sparkled with amusement, her face lighting up like a canvas painted with vibrant colors.
"I think it would be really cool if you taught me some moves," I added.
Racy's smile broadened, her lips curling upward like a crescent moon. "That's exactly why I think we'd make great friends," she said, her voice filled with conviction. "I could teach you how to defend yourself, and you'd have someone looking out for you. We could watch each other's backs."
I glanced down at my watch, a surge of urgency coursed through me. "I'm running terribly late, Racy! I have a class," I exclaimed, my words tumbling out in a flurry. Racy's face lit up with a dazzling smile, and she fell into step beside me. "I'd be delighted to escort you," she said, her long strides effortlessly matching mine.
The sound of our footsteps harmonized as we strolled, Racy's words flowing like a melodic stream. I listened intently, my thoughts oscillating between the impending class and her presence. But then, curiosity got the better of me, and I turned to her with a question. "What part of the world do you hail from, Racy?"
Her response was a masterclass in unexpected wit. "I'm from Britain, so i'm British" she said, her face a mask of serene amusement. I studied her, intrigued by the enigmatic smile playing on her lips. "That explains a lot," I murmured, a sly smile spreading across my face like a sunrise.
Racy's eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing. "Explains what, exactly?" she asked, her voice laced with a curiosity that was both captivating and unnerving. I chuckled, the sound low and husky. "It explains why you have a name as intriguing as Racy Lion," I said, my eyes sparkling with amusement. "People with names like yours tend to defy conventions and push boundaries – like naming themselves after everyday objects or concepts."
As I gazed into Racy's enigmatic eyes, her words hung in the air like a challenge. "Well, I don't know what you're talking about," she said, a mischievous glint dancing in her gaze, "but you've not answered my question. Will you be my friend?" Her voice was laced with a persistence that was both captivating and unnerving.
I studied her, intrigued by the determination etched on her face. "Given your persistence," I said, my voice low and measured, "do you understand Korean?" I asked.
"A little bit," she replied, her voice tinged with a charming accent. "A little bit of Korean," she clarified, her words dripping with an air of understated confidence.
I raised an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued like a flame that refused to be extinguished. "How proficient are you in korean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Racy's gaze drifted off, like a leaf carried on the gentle breeze, as she pondered her response.
"Enough to start a sentence and... be in a decent conversation with somebody," she said finally, her words imbued with a quiet conviction. I nodded my head.
My mind wandered to the possibilities of our conversation, like a river flowing through uncharted terrain. "Are you familiar with tradional korean cuisine?" I asked, leaning in with interest, my voice filled with an unspoken anticipation.