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"Carbon." "Nitrogen." Jab "Fluorine." Jab, jab, right hook
"See? Studying isn't so bad if you associate it with something you're actually good at!"
I grunt in response as Molly shuffles her notecards for the fifth time. She decided it would be a good idea to keep me company and study for a chemistry test I didn't even know was coming up. Molly was my tutor, and best friend if you will. She's known both Michael and me since the third grade.
"Now, let's start from the top, shall me?" She chirped, sending a beaming smile my direction. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, "We shall not, actually. I'm busy." I said bluntly, rolling my shoulders back as I jabbed at the punching bag once more. The gym was almost vacant, only about three or four boxers training in their own fields. The smell of sweat intoxicated my lungs, my breathing raspy and uneven.
It's been two days since the exemplary knockout inflicted on Dylan Mitchell. Since then, I've had an increasingly amount of angry, troubled men lining up to beat the crap out of me in the next competition. One competitor really stood out to me, demanding a match with me to Connor, my trainer. He held intimidation, savagery, and was compelling in some weird way. So, in about four hours, I'll be in the same ring as I was two days ago.
"On a scale of one to ten, how confident are you in this match?" Molly asked, setting her notecards down and placing her hands on her lap. I didn't bother looking back at her, jabbing at the punching bag much more fiercely. I shrugged, "Don't know. Eight?" I said doubtfully, "I don't set much expectations. I'm not a god. I just do what I do best, I guess."
She gave me a look, clearly wondering if I've humbled myself over the week.
"Where's Michael?" She wondered. I chuckled, dropping my hands and turning around. "Tired of me already?" I pouted, ripping the velcro off from my gloves and slipping them off one by one, my hands drenched in sweat. She snorted, "Maybe. You're boring. Anyway, is he coming to the competition later?"
Taking a huge gulp of water from my bottle, I nod my head. The match starts at 8:30 and ends at around 9-10:00, depending on how long we can keep up the match. No one really likes going home anyway.
"Sick. Well, I'll be heading home now. You clearly don't wanna pass this chemistry test so I'll be saving your ass once again." She grumbles, shoving her belongings in her bag. I smiled cheekily at her, showing off my pearly white teeth and small dimples that I've been told I have. "Thanks, I owe you one." I chortled, sending a small wave as she headed out the door.
"Shut up, you said that last week." Flipping me the birdie, she stalked off and to her car. Molly's always been saving my ass in chemistry, and every other class I have that I just wouldn't show up to. I don't even know why I even bother staying in school if I don't even show up. I already have enough on my plate, I don't need a diploma to insure me I did a good job. Molly, however, insists if something ever goes wrong, I can always start with a good education.
