Chapter 14 #2
There are moments in life when you realize that some future goals have to surrender to a present one because there’s a human life involved.
I want to be noticed, but not against my conscience.
I cannot stoop so low as to hurt a person to get attention for being reckless.
So, I bend, raise my hand to punch him, and hit the floor fiercely, avoiding his face.
“I accept a fail.”
Shay responds to me, “Alright, alright, but it’s gonna cost you!”
I guess it’s a good thing that I failed; I am not quite sure.
I just know I have to do something else to be noticed again as a nuisance. So before Shay can say any more, I kick Quan’s feet lightly, three times. I honestly seem like an insane human. I see some students in the class giggle, confused at my actions.
And that’s what I like to see—confusion.
I look at Shay, infuriated, but it is not even him that I hate in this moment, it is the system that made him become this way.
The Commons, the Patron De Londe, the people who promote this system.
I look away, frustrated, wondering if my current plan is more of a stupid one than a smart one.
My plan to confuse them has begun to confuse me.
The class ends, but I need to stay behind to run ten miles for failing my homework assignment.
I also receive a blue detention paper from Shay that will go straight to a Patron’s office.
That is good for my plan. I need to head there after running ten miles, so I begin to pack my water bottle into my backpack.
I pounce on my bag, frustrated. I can’t believe it has come to this—me making a complete fool of myself.
And moreover, I have never been to detention in my entire life, but I don’t care anymore.
I just want to find my sister. Perfection is not necessary for that.
I am fighting to lose. I try to diverge my thoughts to rest because I am growing increasingly tired.
I need some time to breathe, to think about what words I should say to the Patron when I arrive for detention and to decide what my next steps will be in order to fail this physical test. But before I can come to terms with my thoughts, I am interrupted.
“Put your bags down,” Pesh says.
“I can’t. I have to go. And I really don’t want to fight anymore. I’m done.”
“Put your bags down.”
“I can’t. I need to run ten miles. Plus, I’m like thirty seconds late to detention with the Patron P—”
He blocks me. I look at the blue detention sheet. It is only now that I realize that my detention appointment is with him. “You,” I whisper.
“This is your detention. It’s with me,” he says under his breath.
So annoying. Pesh comes to destroy my plans of failing again. Also, I thought he told me to stay away from him. Why is he here now?
I sigh and stare at his face, not his eyes. I am not sure what sort of mood he is in at this moment, but his tone is not friendly, it is patronizing. It seems we are back to business as usual, duty over camaraderie, yet I’ve never been one to assume.
“Does the same rule of eye contact apply here?” I ask.
“It applies everywhere. Step back.”
He directs me with his hand to move back. I look to the right to avoid eye contact.
“How am I supposed to learn from you if I can’t look at you?” I ask.
He looks at me and accepts the challenge. And as though to both reassert his pride and denounce my reasoning at the same time, he whispers to me, “You listen. There are things called ears.” He snaps his fingers near my ears twice. “You should use them more often.”
That was demeaning. But I think he won that round, though it did give me a little delight to try to irritate him.
I scoff, then turn to him. His breath touches my ears as he measures my head as if for a helmet.
But I don’t need a helmet, so I’m confused.
He holds a sword next to a strand of my hair. Why is he doing all this?
I don’t have time to think of a response before he begins to justify his actions as though he senses my doubts. “Your hair is down, put it up. I could cut it.”
Meaning to irritate him some more, instead of tying my hair up, I split it into two and braid it down, simply to buy more time.
He completely ignores me, however. He flips the sharp blade and catches it, tossing it aside, then walks to the opposite side of the stadium before I can respond.
I close my mouth and try to be calm, but deep down, I’m nervous. I don’t know what he has planned.
“You would have lost either way. You’re not listening. You can’t just fight with things you learned in high school or on your own. You can only fight with moves that align with The Commons. If you don’t, you’ll lose, even if you win. Understand?”
“Understand.”
“Okay. Let’s redo your homework assignment.”
“With you?”
“That’s an A for listening. Who else?” An A? That’s a fail.
I put the stray edges of my hair behind my ear, then look at him.
For the first time today, I am terrified.
I can’t play Pesh. I just know it. I can’t.
He’ll see right through me. And I know he is not going to give up until I learn what he is trying to teach me.
Also, seeing as I am tired physically, I am not sure if I can defend myself against him while trying to fail at the same time.
This is going to be hard. I am not optimistic at this present moment. I’m intimidated, but I pretend I’m not.
I mean, how good can he be, right? Urgh! That’s a stupid thought.
I remember Zavish’s words: Pesh’s moves are lethal. This should be fun. Not.
He sees right through me despite my efforts to be calm. “Are you scared?” He perceives.
“I’m not scared of anything or anyone.”
“Good. Keep that same energy. You’ll need it.”
I cannot let my guard down. If I do, will he have mercy?
We give each other a little distance and stare at each other from opposite sides of the field.
I take a deep breath and bend forward in a fighting position.
I don’t wait for him to attack me. I go right in for the punch, but he catches it and spins me around.
I almost fall, but I catch myself. My intuition was right. He is ready to destroy me.
Before I can get back into position to kick him, he flies a kick toward me, which causes me to fall on the floor. He kicks me on the floor in order to get me to rise up, twice. I curl up to brace against the impact. Oh my goodness.
“Get up. Again,” he commands, calm.
I thought I had the freedom to fail in his presence, but apparently not. He will not even wait. I’m in pain, but I shrug it off and stand up immediately. I try to keep my balance and put my fist up to go in for an aggressive punch. It gives him the space to jab me. I gasp, the pain is excruciating.
Urghhh! I have to keep going. I almost fall, but I hold my balance.
“Fight with the rules of The Commons!” he screams at me. He kicks me.
I fall back, then he slides through my feet, and I fall to the ground.
“Jab, kick, slide. Everything that I can’t see coming.” His voice thunders.
I gasp, then immediately stand up, terrified of being kicked by him again. Flustered, I try to collect myself and stand in a fighting position, overwhelmed by his intensity. He is not giving me the chance to react.
I scream in hopes of getting a response and causing him to take even half a second break from his ruthless attacks. “But it’s not fair fighting!”
He spins me around. From the back, he hits my stomach and holds me against his chest. “We decide what’s fair,” he whispers in my ear and strikes deeper into my stomach.
I scream. I’m infuriated, so I kick his feet, then spin out of his hold.
Before I can put my hands up, he grabs my hands and hurls me to the floor.
I crash to the sand, grabbing onto the ground to stop my head from banging on the stone right next to me.
If he threw me one inch further, my head would have smashed into the stone. What the crap!
I spit out the sand particles on my lips. Standing up, propelled by the taste of fear, I sprint toward him in a flying kick. He catches my legs in his fist, spins me around in the air and lets me go.
I crash to the floor again. “Arghhh!”
Flipping up, I go for a kick, but he strikes a long sweeping kick, his feet flying at full force to my head. I duck and escape the blow. I’m confused. Why did he aim for my head?
Is this guy trying to kill me?
Maybe he’s just so skilled that he somehow perceived that I would escape it? I’m not sure which, but before I can come out of my crouched position, he slides at my feet, and I fall back. He hits me with his ankle. I defend with mine.
I hit him back aggressively, but he is untouched. It’s like hitting a rock or slamming my body into metal. What on earth!
Okay, now I’m thinking… I have to figure out a way to get that sword he tossed on the ground, or I will be brutally wounded.
But before I can come to terms with that thought, he grabs my right elbow and spins me around.
He pushes me against a wall, then joins and tightens my two hands together in a cuff, behind my back.
I scream, stuck. He intertwines his feet with mine.
I am now even more stuck. I can hardly breathe.
I struggle, but even now, he does not relent or judge me too weak to be defeated at this point.