Black Academy

Chapter 12 - Part 1

"Gentlemen. Ready?" Both boys nodded, saluted Senor North and each other, and slipped their fencing masks over their faces. "En garde, then. Ready? Fence." As Tyler lunged hard at Jack, and Jack took a step back, parried and riposted, Elsa fiddled uneasily with her body wire. She'd already made a pig's ear of getting her kit on and she was never going to look as elegant as Jack or Tyler. Or any of them, for that matter. Rapunzel, in fencing whites and with a glossy ponytail tumbling down her back, looked like a martial goddess. She rested her fingertips casually on her épée, mask tucked under one arm, as she chatted to Tom, whim she'd just comprehensively thrashed. Guilt nagged at Elsa. Rapunzel was trying hard to act normal, but her couldn't-care-less attitude to Elsa's news didn't ring quite true. When she sat down at last, pushing back damp strands of blonde hair, Elsa smiled at her. 

Maybe she was doing too much smiling herself lately, and maybe that wasn't very normal either. Elsa took a breath. "Rapunzel." She paused. "Do you mind about me getting an interview?" The interview was tomorrow. The thought of it had already been keeping her awake, and now a small thrill rippled down her vertebrate. For once Rapunzel didn't protest or shrug the question off with a laugh. Seriously she studied Elsa's face. "Truly, I don't mind. You deserve it, you -" Rapunzel paused. "Perhaps I'm just disappointed. That again they have not asked me. But I'm happy for you. Yes?" Her smile seemed taut. "It should have been you. I'm sorry. I'm new, and you've got more right to it, and-" "No, it isn't that. It's just . . ." Reddening, Rapunzel clamped her mouth shut. "What?" Elsa frowned. "Nothing." "Its not nothing. Tell me." Elsa's tone had a dangerous edge. "Give, Rapunzel." "Look, it's not what I think. People are taken aback, that's all. Because . . ."

Elsa waited. Her roommate's words came out in a rush. "A scholarship student has never been asked before. That's all." "I see." Elsa tugged off her fencing glove and twisted it. Rapunzel pulled her hair free from its ponytail. "Elsa, I don't think it's - wrong, or anything. It just goes to show special you are, yes? It's just that some in the school are. . ." "Surprised," said Elsa, "Yeah. And I 'm guessing it's not in a nice way." Rapunzel opened her mouth to answer, but an electronic beep signalled another hit and Elsa turned her attention back to the piste. Jack, unflustered, had scored off Tyler. Again. Mean and magnificent, faces obscured by the black mesh, jackets and breeches tight over muscles . . . It was enough to make a girl light-headed. You could never mistake one for the other, though, even when their faces were covered. 

Both were fast and light-footed, and both made their strikes like cunning snakes, but one of them was just insanely elegant, every movement economical, graceful and woundingly effective. Boy, did Jack look good with a weapon. "Elsa!" She blinked, stunned, and Rapunzel nudged her hard. "Eyes front," her roommate whispered mischievously, all her good humour restored. "You're on." The bout was over; Tyler and Jack had tugged off their masks and were shaking hands. Fifteen-nine, she noted, glancing at the score. To Jack, of course. She tried to be disappointed. "Elsa," said Senor North again. "On piste, please. One of you two, stay." "I'll fence her," offered Tyler eagerly. "No." Jack stepped in front of him. "I will." Tyler seemed about to argue, then he shrugged and unplugged his body wire, offering the connection to Elsa. "Damn," she muttered. "He'll hammer me." "Huh," whispered Tyler, offended. "You don't think I would?" "Yeah, OK," she grinned as he clipped her wire on to the back of the jacket, turned her by one shoulder and closed her Velcro neck fastening. 

Tyler was so close she could feel his warm breath, smell his fresh sweat; his fingers were almost brushing her throat. She could feel disapproval, too, radiating from the silent Jack like a physical force. Jack didn't smile as he saluted, then pulled his black mask over his face. "Remember, Elsa," said Senor North beside her, "keep your wrist so, your body angled so. You are still giving your opponent too many chances, you are vulnerable to hits. And do not back off all the time! Do not be afraid to lunge. Now! Ready?" Nod, salute, mask on. "En garde. Ready? Fence." It was hopeless. Jack got past every parry with no effort, blocked every thrust she made. The electronic counter sounded with embarrassing regularity, and Elsa almost fainted with relief when Jack made one mistake and she made a hit by default. At least he wouldn't be wiping the floor with her, fifteen-nil. 

Elsa was well aware of Caroline, her own bout over, watching and smirking, and when Jack stepped back and removed his mask, then extended his gloved fingers for a curt handshake, Elsa felt only overwhelming glad that it was over. "Fifteen-one, on my right." Senor North sounded disappointed, but not remotely unsurprised. "Rapunzel and Tyler. On piste please." As Elsa disconnected her body wire and offered him the connection, Tyler's fingers brushed hers.