match her.
He took off his jacket and stepped up to the mat. One of
the cadets whistled, and the class gathered to watch.
They circled each other, as they had many times before,
but something was different this time. Taz was a whirl of
fury as she threw herself at him and he had to put his full
attention into blocking her blows. Left jab, right hook,
knee, elbow – he was on the defensive. The cadets started
to catcall.
He managed a hit, a sideswipe that sent her to the carpet,
but before he could pause for breath, she had rolled to her
feet and they were circling again. This time he moved first.
She blocked him, and they sparred at a pace Up hadn’t
reached in a long time. He rolled to avoid a well-placed
roundhouse kick. She was actually trying to hurt him.
Just as he got to his feet, Taz leapt at him, arms raised
overhead and a wild look in her eyes. Throwing his hands
up, he caught hers and held them tightly, forcing them
backwards over her head. She struggled to break his grip.
Their faces were inches apart as he leaned over her. Their
eyes locked, and she stopped fighting.
They stood there, nose to nose and breathing hard, until
after a long moment the cadets started to applaud. Up
released her, and she stumbled back, rubbing her wrists.
“That’s enough for today, cadets,” he said, trying not to
let his fatigue sound in his voice. Taz looked back at him as
she filed out with the rest of her classmates. He wondered if
her heart was racing as fast as his.
Taz knew she was forgiven for her awful treatment of
him when Up sat down next to her in the mess hall and
peered over her shoulder at the book she was banging her
forehead against.
“Calculus?” he asked.