Black Belt Tried to Embarrass a Single Mom During Sparring—Then She Changed Her Fighting Stance
Chapter 3
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As Derek walked away, high-fiving Kyle, Diana turned back to the bag. She didn't throw another punch. She just stood there staring at the worn leather, her breathing slowly changing rhythm.Friday night arrived with the heavy, electric energy typical of open sparring. The gym's playlist blared deep, aggressive hip-hop beats, and the mats were crowded with fighters wrapping their hands, greasing their faces with Vaseline, and hyping themselves up.Diana sat on a wooden bench near the cubbies, slowly wrapping her hands. She wasn't using the bright pink, pre-made slip-on wraps that most beginners bought. She was using traditional 180-inch cotton wraps. She wove them methodically between her knuckles, locking the thumb, creating a dense, professional cast around her wrists. Her movements were automatic, hidden in the shadows of the locker room corridor. She wore her usual baggy attire: a faded gray t-shirt and loose black sweatpants. She looked entirely out of place among the lean, heavily muscled fighters in their custom Muay Thai shorts and tight rash guards.Toby sat next to her, swinging his legs. "Are you going to fight the loud guy, Mommy?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine worry.Diana stopped wrapping for a second and kissed the top of his head. "It's just practice, baby. Just a game of tag. You stay in the viewing room and eat your snacks, okay? Mommy will be fine."Across the gym, Derek was putting on a show. He was shadowboxing in the center of the main mat, throwing lightning-fast combinations and snapping loud, cracking kicks against the pads Kyle was holding. He was making sure everyone in the room was watching him. He thrived on the intimidation factor. Tonight, he was determined to put on a comedy show for his friends with Diana as the punchline.Coach Brendan gathered the group to assign partners. "All right, 3-minute rounds. Keep it technical. If I see anyone trying to take someone's head off, you're doing burpees until you puke. Derek, you're with Diana. Flow sparring only. If you hurt her, you're dealing with me."Derek rolled his eyes playfully. "Relax, Coach. I'm a gentleman."The buzzer sounded, a sharp, piercing electronic wail that signaled the start of the round.Diana walked onto the mat, her head down, her shoulders hunched. She raised her gloves into a standard, textbook beginner's guard: hands too far apart, elbows flared out, chin exposed. She looked terrified.Derek didn't even bother putting his hands up. He bounced lightly on his toes, his hands resting on his hips, wearing a mocking grin. "All right, Mom. Let's see what you got. Try and hit me."Diana threw a slow, telegraphed jab. Derek slipped it effortlessly and tapped her lightly on the top of her headgear with an open glove."Boop," he said aloud. Kyle and Jason laughed loudly from the sidelines.Diana tried a one-two combination. Derek parried the first punch, caught the second, and spun her around by her shoulder, making her stumble clumsily over her own feet. She caught her balance just before falling, her cheeks burning red beneath her headgear."Come on, Caldwell," Derek taunted, circling her like a shark. "You're moving like you're stuck in wet cement. Wake up."