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Being pointed back to my side and him to his, I bring my fists up and tilt my neck to the side to pop it again. The smile on my face becomes bigger, I feel it already, I’m going to cause some motherfucking pain. I’m going to mess up his pretty boy face.
“Are you ready?” Harry shouts to me.
I nod, more than eager to get started.
“Are you ready?” Harry asks Ethan and gets a similar nod.
Ethan isn't smiling like I am, he’s stone-faced. Oh well, I just hope he doesn’t have as much fun as I plan to.
Mandy
“Man, I’d like to take a bite out of that,” some guy whispers loudly and then there’s a bunch of snickering.
My head turns and my eyes scan the room, searching for the source. There are too many bodies though, and male bodies at that, crowding this small space. Half of the guys in the room have their eyes on me as I stand next to my best friend Ethan. There’s no way I can tell which one of them made the remark.
I hate it. I can’t stand all the eyes crawling over me. I much rather slink into the back of the room and disappear against the wall. But Ethan loves attention, he thrives on attention. He needs it like the rest of us need air.
This is Ethan’s moment of glory. He’s finally got his shot at the title he’s had his eyes on for more than a year. He’s worked so hard to get here and now it’s about to pay off. The room is packed, the noise level is deafening. Everyone is here to see Ethan, to show support for him. It’s a pre-celebration as if no one expects him to lose.
I know better.
I caught a glimpse of the guy Ethan is supposed to fight over an hour ago when we passed each other briefly in the hall. I was searching for the ladies bathroom. I heard from somewhere, somewhere I can’t remember, that they call him Reaper.
I’m afraid to know why.
It was just a brief glimpse, we passed each other so quick I didn’t get a good look at him, but after those few seconds, after seeing the sharp calculation in his eyes as he sized me up before I even realized who he was, I was left with a bad feeling in my gut. If anyone were to beat Ethan, I felt like it could be him.
That feeling still lingers.
Ethan grins his million dollar grin of bright white teeth that never fail to dazzle and jerks his chin a little as if he’s trying to flip back his hair. He used to have such beautiful wavy blonde hair, but once he took up fighting he shaved it all off.
Ethan’s bulging arm is already wrapped around my waist. He likes to keep me super close before his match. He leans toward me, having to bend down to reach my ear.
“Smile,” he hisses between those dazzling teeth low enough that no one else can hear.
My lips stretch automatically. I only have one job, one reason for being here. I’m his pretty lucky charm.
I love Ethan, like a friend, I really do but this has become quite the chore. When Ethan first took up fighting I was a bit confused. It just seemed so out of the blue. So unlike him. Not the guy I knew at all.
We first connected in middle school. Two outcast geeks who weren’t quite nerds but definitely not cool. We had so much in common. We both loved the same geeky books and the same awful TV shows. It was as if the universe was throwing us together knowing we were perfect for each other. Knowing we would be best of friends.
Ethan lived in the same part of town as me throughout middle school but during our freshman year of high school his father’s electronic business expanded and Ethan moved to the upper side. We were still friends though for the most part. I guess it’s only natural that we grew apart during high school especially with puberty and all. Ethan had money, he became more popular and hung out with the popular crowds. But he always made time for me after school. And I just kind of stayed the same until I graduated and lost my grandmother.
My mother has never been in the picture. I was her mistake. To her, I’m living, breathing, walking and talking regret. She dropped me off with my grandmother when I was five years old and never looked back.
And I’m thankful each day that she did. It was probably the only thing in her life she got right.
I love my grandmother. She was already in her mid-sixties when I came into her life, well past the age expected to raise children, but still she took me on. She never made me feel guilty that she did it either. To her I wasn’t a burden, I was her joy. She once confessed to me that I was her second chance at life. Like God had given her another shot to do it all over. She made me feel like her raising me was the best thing to ever happen to her.
I’m grateful that we had so many wonderful days together but I still miss her. She died a year and a half ago. She was all that I had. It was always just her and me against the world. She was retired, living off a small pension. I didn’t even have the money to bury her. Ethan stepped up for me, he took care of it all.
Ethan has been amazing to me. When my grandmother passed, I had to sell off her house to settle her bills. There was nothing left, and I was already scraping by, just keeping my neck above water during my freshman year of college. Not only did Ethan cover my grandmother’s services and her burial, he set me up with a job in his father’s flagship store. Thanks to the job I earn just enough wages now to cover my apartment and other living expenses. Thanks to him I don’t have to worry about being homeless or starving to death while I try to finish college.
So I owe Ethan, big time.
He’s a great friend, and he’s never once asked me to repay him. But in the past few months Ethan has changed a lot.
First, it was the interest in fighting. I thought it would be a phase, perhaps something he would try, decide it wasn’t for him and move on. But he didn’t. If anything, he’s become more and more engrossed with it. Some might say he’s obsessed.
