I stayed between his legs after he was finished and pulled my knees up to my chest, ready to watch the sparring match.
Troy was quick, flexible, and powerful. A great combination for any fighter. We weren’t allowed to hit with full force for training purposes, but we still felt pain afterwards.
Troy was great at figuring out each one of his opponent’s strength and weaknesses. Of course, he attacked their weaknesses. He was trying to teach me how to read my opponent as well. I knew from watching Butler spar previously that he was a hot head. He fought with emotion. Troy would get in his head and push him. The angrier he got, the sloppier he got. The sloppier he got, the less hits he landed successfully.
The matches were three, two-minute rounds. Each hit was worth a point. Level of difficulty and head shots gained you two extra points. If you left the ring you got points deducted. If you left the ring more than three times, you were disqualified.
Just as predicted Troy continually evaded Butler’s hits, and Butler started getting irritated. Troy continued to play defense until Butler started to visibly clench his fist more (his tell). Then like a cobra, Troy struck. He was in his normal defensive stance with his left leg back and his front leg slightly bent up front. His hands were up protecting his face and abdomen. He struck out with his left leg landing a solid roundhouse kick to Butler’s side, and before Butler could go on the defense, Troy landed a back-spin kick to Butler’s head. He had scored four points in less than two seconds.
I heard good-natured groans from Butler’s friends, but our little group and a few of his fans cheered him on. That only irritated Butler more, so he got even messier in his movements. By the end of the first round Troy had twelve points to Butler’s three.
Troy came over to us with a smile and a wink to me as I handed him my water bottle.
“You don’t need to make it look easy,” Noah joked, slapping Troy on the back.
Troy shrugged with a cocky grin as Henderson blew his whistle for the next round. Troy won in a land slide. Butler was decent, but he was nowhere near Troy’s level. When Troy was done, he plopped down beside me. I gave him a smile and squeezed one of his sweat-soaked biceps.
“Good job, Tiger,” I joked.
He waggled his eyebrows at me, and I couldn’t help but giggle.
They generally liked to stagger the female fights in between the male fights. They weren’t as fun to watch, but there were a few girls that clearly trained for years. Those were the matches I enjoyed watching. So far, I had only sparred the other gifted girls.
It was clear that was going to change today as Bradford looked over at us girls gleefully, a malevolent expression on his face. He resented us, and I still couldn’t figure out why he did. He was an instructor. We didn’t threaten his spot on any teams.
“Let’s see how our Little Rock Star does against…” Bradford looked around the room. It wasn’t a term of endearment. It was far from it. He used it in a disparaging tone. “Adams.”
I was a small girl. I was five-one at most. Adams was an average girl at five feet-five or so. She was also built. She was one of the girls that had trained in martial arts for years and arguably the best female fighter here. I knew I could put up a good fight, but I highly doubted I could beat her. She also had a huge crush on Troy, and Troy had told her he wasn’t interested in her as kindly as he could. She hadn’t taken the rejection that well. I had a sneaking suspicion that she had a hand in making that video go viral. I think she wanted to embarrass me, but it hadn’t worked; instead, I had gotten compliments on the video.
Last week, the youtube video had circulated with me, Ben, and the band at our Halloween party. Jemmy and Rachel had planned the event, so needless to say, our small intimate gathering had turned into the party of the year. I hadn’t realized someone had posted the video and it had gone viral. Once again, my aspirations of being in a band again were being put on the back burner.
“Wear her out,” Troy leaned in and whispered to me. “She lacks endurance. Take the small hits until she tires.”
I smiled my thanks at him before wrapping my hands and sticking my mouth guard in. I walked out onto the mat and took my position in the middle. Adams took her spot and gave me a smug smirk. She didn’t think I had a chance of beating her either.
It was clear by Bradford’s look that he was trying to set me up to fail. He gave Adams a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder.
“Let’s go, Blake,” Rachel yelled her encouragement. She was clearly rebelling against the social etiquette here. She refused to conform and call me by my last name. Here, everyone was called by their call signs or last names. They were too entrenched with their military training, despite the fact they no longer served.
I gave her a half-hearted smile before Adams and I fist bumped each other and the whistle was blown. I immediately used my speed to my advantage and struck her side with a roundhouse kick before I darted back out of her reach. I continued to wait for the next opening, hoping to tire her out as I danced out of her reach. I feigned in and out a few times, making her strike air and waste precious energy.
She was all about the flash and trying to get the higher points as she made contact to my side with a double round house kick and an axe kick to my shoulder. My shoulder was sore, but I managed to land some double jabs to her abdomen and two more round house kicks.
I was surprised when the first round ended with us being tied. I could tell from her cheering box, they were surprised as well when they saw the score posted above us.
“You’re doing great, Princess,” Troy smiled at me as he handed me a water bottle.
“She keeps dropping her guard on her right side,” Remy said quietly. “Watch for it and land your double roundhouse kick.”
“She keeps aiming for your face, too,” Terrance added. “Keep your guard up.”
We were allowed to land kicks to the head if they weren’t full contact or direct hits. I had narrowly missed a few of her kic
ks directed to my head. They were worth more points, but I was funny about aiming there, myself. I had a thing about people’s faces. I didn’t like hitting people in the head, because I hated when people made head shots on me.
“Thanks guys,” I smiled as the whistle blew, indicating the end of our break. They gave me a fist bump, and I went back into the ring.
I could see that Adams was already getting tired. It was in her eyes. The guys’ confidence in me bolstered my spirit, and I tried to remember everything they told me. She was beautiful to watch, but she came in the ring over confident and feeling the need to show off. I saw the glances she had sent Troy’s way. It was times like this I wish I could tell her she was wasting her time. Our connections meant more to us than any fleeing attraction.