Chapter 556
Judy’s POV
It’s been a week.
One week since I last saw Gavin. It has been one week since I last spoke to him. I didn’t bother calling him on the phone or texting him like I did last time. I knew what this was; he wanted to get laid, and he used me for that reason. I just didn’t understand why he didn’t just use Rachel. I mean, they were close now. None of it was really making sense.
I hadn’t told anyone about my night with Gavin because I was embarrassed about putting myself in that position again. I was embarrassed because I let that man use me and my body to get his rocks off, and I was once again left in the dust.
Last week, Gavin told me not to worry about tutoring Matt during my finals week at school. He didn’t want Matt’s tutoring and training to become a distraction, so Taylor had been taking me straight home after school. I’ve been drowning myself in studying and doing my finals each day. Though Gavin was a bit of a distraction himself, constantly popping into my mind at the wrong times, I was confident he wasn’t a distraction enough. I got through most of my finals except for this last one.
Today was the final for my combat class. I knew I’d ace it without a problem, though, and most were terrified to go up against me because I had already won the Gamma competition.
The final was in the gym, and anyone could watch if they chose to. Nan was in the front row, cheering for me. I smiled at her when she waved before I took my seat with my other classmates. I looked around at the nervous faces, and I felt like I was the only confident one, which was funny because everybody in this class was really good.
Once my name was called and my opponent, Monica, was called, I put my game face on and stood in the center of the gym. She looked to be a nervous wreck; her eyes were clouded as she stared at me, and I hated that I was intimidating her, but I needed a good grade for this class. It’s not like she’d fail the class if she failed this competition. The professor is only looking at our technique and whether we actually learned anything in his class. If she gives me a good fight, he will pass her no problem.
“Good luck,” I say to her, trying my best at a warm smile.
She tried to return it, but it looked more forced, and she gave me a short nod.
As the bell sounded, we got into our stance and circled around each other. I always learned to never make the first move; only attack if being attacked. The professor hadn’t taught us that, though someone needs to make the first move. I watched her every movement, the way her eyes darted back and forth. The way she sized me up, the way her eyes would stare at my hands and then my legs, trying to figure out what kind of attack I was going to do first.
I’m sure she had seen most of my attacks from class and from watching the competition, which I found out that the entire class had watched me in the competition over the course of the summer.
Her mistake was staring at my feet for too long; I now knew she was going to try and knock me off balance. An opponent is weaker on the ground, and though it was a good tactic, her tell was too obvious.
She immediately went for my feet, and at the last second, I back-flipped away from her. In the process of it swung my foot out and knocked her to the ground. She gasped and attempted to kick herself out from under me, but I was faster and pinned her in a way that she couldn’t move. If she was a real enemy, I’d be able to slit her throat from his position and end her life immediately. But because this was only a final in a class, I pretended to slit her throat just for good measure, making everybody stand to their feet and cheer.
“That was the fastest time yet,” my professor announced, clapping his hands. “You both did well. Monica do have a few notes for you, but you handled yourself well, and though it failed, you did attempt some of the moves taught during class. Good job.”
She was flushed cheeked when I released her. Her eyes were filling with tears; I knew she was feeling bad about how she performed. She wanted to do better despite the praise she was receiving.
“It’s not fair,” I heard her whisper to another classmate. “I did have to go up against Judy the tank.”