A fist connects with my jaw like a freight train, sending stars exploding across my vision. I hit the training mat with all the grace of a sack of potatoes, the impact knocking what little air remained straight out of my lungs. The ceiling spins lazily above me, the fluorescent lights blurring into streaks as I try to remember which way is up.
"Arms up, kid! What the hell was that?" Professor Masters looms over me, her military-cut hair perfectly in place despite having just knocked me flat on my ass. "You were blocking this exact combination three days ago."
I blink up at her, trying to formulate a response that won't sound completely pathetic. My jaw throbs where her knuckles connected, a dull ache spreading across my face like wildfire.
"Sorry, Sensei," I mumble, pushing myself up on wobbly arms. My entire body feels like it's made of lead, muscles protesting every movement after last night's patrol with Spider-Woman. "Just a little tired today."
Masters crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing as she studies my face. "A little tired? You look like you've been hit by a truck, Steele." She extends a hand down to me, which I gratefully accept. "Late night?"
"You could say that," I admit as she pulls me effortlessly to my feet. My legs wobble beneath me, threatening to give out at any second. Two hours of sleep after six hours of patrolling with Spider-Woman has left me running on fumes and terrible campus coffee.
"Yeah," I say, trying to grin despite the throbbing pain in my jaw. "Something like that."
"Studying for another class?" Masters asks, her eyebrow arched skeptically as she takes a step back, giving me space to find my balance.
"Kind of?" I offer weakly, knowing it sounds unconvincing even to my own ears.
Masters sighs deeply, her shoulders dropping with the exhale. Before I can react, she hooks her foot behind my ankle and sweeps my legs out from under me. For the second time in as many minutes, I find myself flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what just happened.
"Sorry," she says with a laugh that softens her usually stern face. "That one was cruel."
Despite the fresh wave of pain radiating through my body, I can't help but smile. There's genuine fondness in her voice, something that would have been unthinkable when we first started training together. The past month and a half, Masters and I have really hit it off, she's become my favorite teacher by a mile. Not just because she's teaching me how to fight, but because beneath that tough exterior is someone who genuinely cares about my progress.
As she helps me up again, I decide to ask something that's been weighing on my mind.
"Sensei," I begin, wincing as I roll my shoulder, "how do you get a woman to love you?"
Masters' eyebrows shoot up so fast they might achieve orbit. Her expression shifts from surprised to amused to uncomfortable in the span of three seconds.
"I don't sleep with students, Steele," she says flatly, crossing her arms over her chest.
My eyes widen in horror as I realize how my question sounded. "Oh god, thats not…"
She glances around the empty training room, then lowers her voice. "Well, unless..."
"Not you, Sensei!" I cut her off. "I didn't mean..."
Masters laughs, the sound echoing off the gym walls as she watches me squirm. "Relax, kid. I'm just messing with you." Her expression softens into something more curious. "So who's the unlucky lady that's got you tied up in knots?"
I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. "I don't think you know her. She's ripped, Sensei. Strong as an ox. And she's clearly into me, but she keeps acting like she hates my guts."
Masters shakes her head, a wry smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Don't waste your time with women who can't make up their minds, Steele. Life's too short for that bullshit."
"You think so?"
"You're young," she says, tossing me a towel from the nearby bench. "College is supposed to be about having fun, meeting people, figuring yourself out. Don't get hung up on someone who doesn't even know what they want."
I frown, wiping sweat from my face. "But she's so hot, Sensei."
Masters bursts out laughing, the sound echoing through the empty training room. "I've never heard a man say that about a woman before," she says, shaking her head in amusement. "But I'm sure there are plenty of other attractive girls on campus who won't waste your time."
"What if she's just playing hard to get?" I suggest, hope creeping into my voice despite my better judgment.
"Playing hard to get is for children, not adults," Masters says, her voice taking on that no-nonsense tone I've come to recognize as her 'wisdom mode.' "Real women know what they want and aren't afraid to go after it."
She walks over to the equipment rack, replacing the training pads we'd been using. "Look, I've seen plenty of people waste years on someone who keeps them dangling. It's not worth it."
"But…"
"No buts," she cuts me off, turning back to face me. "If she's interested, she'll make time for you. If she's not, no amount of chasing will change her mind."
I sigh, my shoulders slumping as her words hit home. The rational part of my brain knows she's right, but my heart isn't quite ready to listen.
"That's probably true," I concede, running a hand through my sweat-dampened hair.
"Don't be too down on yourself," Masters says, her voice surprisingly gentle. She claps a hand on my shoulder. "If it's meant to be, it'll be."
"Yeah… I guess…"