Much like she'd always aimed for in high school, Isobel was in the front of the class. Garbed in second-hand green active wear from her feet to her shoulders, her hair was pulled back in a pony tail and she paid attention to every word the instructors said. She was wearing contacts, which made her blink an abnormal number of times per minute, but it was better than either risking her glasses or having to wear some kind of protective goggles that would make her stand out all the more.
She watched the demonstration with no small amount of trepidation, her arms instinctively crossing over her chest in a defensive posture as she easily imagined Bryan doing something like that to her. He wasn't really the sneak and grab type; he'd always wanted some sort of affirmation, her knowing he was there. But things could so easily change. The whole point of these classes was to prevent ending up in the hospital again, at least if she didn't freeze up when the actual moment came.