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When she didn’t turn up for the second session, relief turned to mild concern. After session three, I was genuinely worried. Not about her grade. Brandy was high-honors material. She’d received an “A” for first semester, her essays were detailed and insightful and whenever she’d answer questions in class, she was thoughtful and well-informed. During the last nine months, she’d only missed a handful of lectures. It just wasn’t like Brandy to skip three classes in a row. After the last lecture of the year, I walked back to the former storage closet that is my office, and found an e-mail from Brandy: “Can I see you this afternoon about something personal?” Something personal? Had Brandy finally picked up on my infatuation? Did she want to talk about “us?” Was she distressed, confused, aroused? Was my transparent lust the reason she’d skipped those last three lectures? “I’m free at 3. Meet me at my office,” I wrote, my body shivering like a badly tuned violin string. A few minutes later. It was a one-handed attack, so Chase blocked with one dagger and used the other to slash at Becker’s hand. He pulled away before the blade could reach him and attempted an uppercut slash. Chase dodged the swing and lost one of his daggers from the kick that followed.Overhead, a cloud moved over the moon, and its deep shadow eclipsed the two warriors. Chase disappeared into the darkness but Becker wouldn’t let him get away. He couldn’t let him retrieve his dagger. A handful of dirt hit his face, and while his mask blocked most of it, his concentration was broken, and Chase lunged with both blades. The next moment, one blade was deflected and the other missed Becker’s throat but left a deep cut on his shoulder. The cloud passed overhead and the two men could see. Once, twice, three times, they attacked each other, steel against steel. An untrained eye would only see intermittent sparks in the blackness, but both warriors were dodging and blocking each other’s attacks with unhindered.
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